An Autumn Walk

The Autumn Walk narrates the process of exploring a strange land; it visualised how the subjectivity of consciousness shapes the process of recognising the landscape. It consists of a stop motion animation, a map and a gallery of on-site drawings, which linearly pictured a walk from Falmouth to Helford.

I arrived in gloomy dusk. I took a look through the porthole-shaped window of the accommodation. It was dark and blurred; the wind swept across the coastline to hills; nothing can be seen. I never thought about it tooled as the only window that I can gaze into the direction of the sea. Horrible weather, constant rain kept me indoors for days, then straight into the lockdown. The furthest I reached in the period was the green near the Swampool. I saw trees and bushes growing in the harsh wind. They stretch, roofed, formed tunnels to unknown experiences.


I name portholes and windows in the gloomy rainy as “peekhole”. Usually in a dark and humid day, when watery mist condenses on the glass surface, burring the landscape on the other side. Twilight shines through the panel dimly, illumines a small proportion on the wall. I cannot help to perceive the similarity between so-called peekholes and bush roofed paths. Thick vegetation eliminates the most of the light, which makes even a dim weather looks stimulating where the tunnel ends. Although reaching the other side won’t be a difficult task, information filtered through is inevitably influenced. Size and lighting contrast decides the limitation of our perspective, and their structure fundamentally established the linearity for our experiences. It somehow reminds me of trails on a wild field. Although there is not obstacles to unlimited possibilities, people still choose to follow their leads. They are tunnels to randomness, but the randomness is often set to be certain.


Every time I walk past a dome of vegetations, I would have a sense of completion of the path before. Perhaps except landscapes that being recognised generally, the individual initiative also decides if the landscape exists spiritually, as a symbolic power maybe? I always pay unusual attention to trees. Perhaps because they are the most obvious marks insight, or perhaps love, awe to nature herself? I imagined those who walked on the land and narrated their seeings as stories passed down generations. Their engagement with this land fundamentally invented so many landscapes that we can celebrate. I wonder about their survivals, their lives, and their love of this coastline. Where did they go when they perished? I’d love to think that they are the guarding souls that gaze at the sea in an infinite of time.


The continuity of the landscape is a very interesting thing. I see only repeating landscapes and seascapes in my observation. The soil piles up the land I am standing on, and the land expands to the horizon and form the region I am living in. Boundaries are but also invented to define each part of the land. Nature is infinite. There is no boundary for nature.


A sudden wood appears. It obstructs my sight, but not the sound of wave splashes on the rock. I walk, and walk, seldom see the sun shines through leaves and the dome. I know where I am, but I also do not know where I am. Shapes and shadows twisted and twined. The warmth in the air brings a pleasant odour, which eases my nerves about not having a clear view of the path. Until I travelled through, I realised the landscape has changed, and till I travelled back later, lost in the dark, randomly approached a graveyard, the image of the wood turned a bit more solemn.


The estuary introduces the first side of Helford in the distance. At the top of a little hill, I see perhaps the lizard point on my left; and the land patched with fields extending on the right. The grassland is full of mushrooms and wild berries. Robins hide in thorny bushes, humming melodies I don’t understand.  


Nature gives —— a personification which concludes an almost infinite cycle of material and heat into behaviour that easier to explain. This interpretation fundamentally based on the human perspective. Although it reflects a sort of human arrogance, the obligato of human will in constructing reference systems is shown as well. We standardise the measurement for an abstract concept based on our performance and unconsciously projected our inner world during the visualisation. Aesthetic, sense of security even the desire for control, reveals as the selection of objects or the design of metaphors. The anthropomorphic process places nature as a “giver”, but the receivers of the fortune seem to be indispensable. Perhaps, we as living beings are important to nature; but before we exist, nature exists.