The route to the station on the commute lies along a long spur of high ground that falls away to the east from the Great North Road, gradually declining in height to reach the waters of Pymmes Brook. To the North the land falls away to a brook with no name. This rises on the North Middlesex Golf Course and up in North Finchley, going underground at Friern Barnet. To the South the land falls away to the North Circular Road (NCR), which hereabouts runs in the valley of the Bounds Green Brook. On a bright but greying afternoon, during the second national lock down (to protect against Covid-19) this brook is located, at the bottom of Colney Hatch Lane. It returns to light here after passing under the road, running sprightly and clear, culverted in concrete, more like a sluice from a reservoir. This is not the source. The latest Ordnance Survey map suggests this is up to the west, in the Glebe Lands where the Great North Road and NCR diverge. ...
Despite the attempts to escape, there are times when you realise that where you are is where you are supposed to be. The story that this undulating, mostly urban land tells me and my relationship to it is not yet resolved. This is yet another attempt at finding that way through the mixed images and scenes to understand land and self. It is done through the lens of the fresh and new but also inhabits memory and another country of my youth. Here are clean, clear or misty snapshots through re-wired synaptic jumps, expressing neither a concrete reality or a myth, but a mashed up in-between. The thought of walking, in leisure time, beside a filthy stinking north circular road fills me with dread and a strange excitement and intrigue at what may be found. In my mind it is always the other, outer places that flow and the shuddering joy are found. Minds though are easily fooled. There is no other place, no other time. T...