Stepped into a thousand year old church today; dark, musty and full of ghosts of the past; but it was the immense stillness which was so poignant and so beautifully overwhelming.
I’ve always been fascinated by stone. Something in me believes that stone is not simply dead and inanimate, but rather alive and a kind of receptacle of memory and history. In some mysterious way I think stone gathers into itself and holds within itself what has happened around it. I would often look at a mountain and ask the question, “What have you seen? What memories lie in your stone? What would you say if you could speak? I addressed these questions to the stone of this church.