{"id":3745,"date":"2017-10-18T20:57:04","date_gmt":"2017-10-18T20:57:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/runyourownwebsite.uk\/sorted\/?p=3745"},"modified":"2021-02-17T15:05:02","modified_gmt":"2021-02-17T15:05:02","slug":"cold-silence-and-solitude-hiking-in-sarek-by-corinna-leenan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/runyourownwebsite.uk\/sorted\/cold-silence-and-solitude-hiking-in-sarek-by-corinna-leenan\/","title":{"rendered":"Cold, silence and solitude"},"content":{"rendered":"
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In the summer of 1967 a guy halts his steps in a field in Wiltshire, retraces his steps the way he came for a few yards \u2013 then turns back. He repeats this to-ing and fro-ing for a while. At some point he steps aside and photographs the line which has become visible in the flattened turf as a record of his walking.<\/p>\n

July 2017: I halt in the middle of a large snowfield in Laponia, turn around to see that our feet have worn a brown line into the surface and press the button of the GoPro to film Tom struggling towards me across the ice.<\/p>\n

The guy in Wiltshire is Richard Long, English sculptor and land artist. His photograph is in the Tate Modern and bears the title \u2018A Line Made by Walking\u2019.<\/p>\n

Long and I have this in common: We are both fascinated by the meaning of paths and leaving traces.<\/p>\n

With repetition, small interactions like \u2018walking\u2019 become well-worn marks in the landscape. But by and large, the only traces we register as human interaction with the landscape are toilet paper, ...<\/p>\n <\/div>\n

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