tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post6282499510896531274..comments2023-11-02T06:50:42.777-07:00Comments on billierosie: ANOTHER PLACE: ANTONY GORMLEYbillierosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00288997506566830393noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post-42659002106802882052009-12-07T13:51:19.684-08:002009-12-07T13:51:19.684-08:00Wow - how absolutely wonderful! - the art installa...Wow - how absolutely wonderful! - the art installation, the pictures and your description of the experience. I absolutely love Gormley's "Angel of the North" and keep going back to visit, and now I want to make a pilgrimage to "Another Place" too.<br /><br />Thank you Billie!Janine Ashblesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post-43240741179958355312009-11-24T09:40:27.140-08:002009-11-24T09:40:27.140-08:00So wonderful -- so magical! I so would have loved...So wonderful -- so magical! I so would have loved to have seen these with you :-)<br /><br />Hugs<br /><br />Cmchristianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11887406428164757014noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post-2283671992241963162009-11-24T08:54:03.545-08:002009-11-24T08:54:03.545-08:00Thank you so much everyone. Another Place is certa...Thank you so much everyone. Another Place is certainly a special place to visit. The installation, its location, the sounds of the sea and wind. The wonderful light. I'm pleased to share it with you. It's inspiring and profound.billierosiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00288997506566830393noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post-85028913377612987582009-11-23T12:54:01.007-08:002009-11-23T12:54:01.007-08:00So strange you'd post these, billie. Awhile ag...So strange you'd post these, billie. Awhile ago a dear friend sent me a couple of links to the statues and I had this idea for a book come to me. Here's the opening:<br /><br />Wind sent ripples across the wide expanse of ocean in front of him, whipping the tops of each wave into the air. A couple: the man, dark haired and well built, the woman, short, a little on the plump side with her blonde curls, passed by him. Their voices were barely discernable, the words stolen by the wind, yet he was sure they were happy being on the beach, in the wind. It must have been cold; the man offered his jacket to his companion, who wore only a pale blue summer dress and white sandals. That left him in shirt sleeves, grey shorts and worn runners. <br /><br />The couple walked on, getting closer to the waves until finally they turned and headed inland, away from the only thing he could see. Time passed and more couples meandered along the beach. Children ran into the water, splashing, crying out their joy at being young and carefree. Dogs chased balls or sticks thrown by unseen owners. In the dark, he watched the stars, the moon, or clouds. The tide came in, covering him to the waist at times, to the knees at others. When it went out the farthest, he could just see a line of white where sea met sand. <br /><br />Days ran into weeks, then months, and he stood stoically by and watched while the season changed and the world passed him by. More people, more dogs and children, even the occasional horse traipsed passed him. He never hungered. The nearness of water never caused him to crave a drink. <br /><br />He did remember fear long ago when the water rose, encompassing his knees, his groin then his belly. It had been a calm day, so the waves were small, gushing forward rather than leaping as they sometimes did. When it reached his nipples, he realized he was going to be submerged and terror gripped him. He couldn't move, couldn't flee, couldn't swim. And still the water crept higher, touching his chin then his lower lip and then covering them. He wanted to close his eyes, to shut out the sun and the brilliant blue with the white tipped death that crept up him. Yet he stood frozen in place, feeling no chill or push of water against him, no wildly beating heart of gasping for breath. <br />He simply watched and waited, while terror tore at him.<br /><br />The ocean reached out and touched his nose, a wave lapped over it, touching his eyes.<br /><br />He screamed, inside his head. No voice, no breath. If he could have, he was sure he'd have soiled the water swirling around him. <br /><br />When the water flowed over his head, he stopped being afraid. Nothing had changed. He still stood, stoically, back straight, arms at his sides, feet well placed for balance, and watched.<br /><br />Time passed, tiny fish circled him, a crab scuttled across the sand, and the water receded.Jude Masonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14067166768734750026noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post-22319548924231947912009-11-21T07:59:25.462-08:002009-11-21T07:59:25.462-08:00What an extraordinary experience! I love the fact ...What an extraordinary experience! I love the fact that you had to wait for the tide to turn before you could actually see the bodies. That seems very mystic, which makes the trip seem ever more special.<br /><br />I'm so glad you had a wonderful time. Big smile and hug to you.Neve Blackhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06106539156218430155noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8670812027273632828.post-37445934451316521252009-11-20T15:51:35.428-08:002009-11-20T15:51:35.428-08:00Beautiful! Quite lovely. I read the figures as wai...Beautiful! Quite lovely. I read the figures as waiting for something, I don't know what, perhaps rebirth, they are waiting for things to get better. They are 'born' every day and then the ocean reclaims them. The figures go back to the womb. Am I allowed to be so fanciful? Easter Isalnd eat ya heart out! <br /><br />HUGS xxxViscount Andrewhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14430740088695656739noreply@blogger.com