For her Artful Way, artist Caroline Dalton chose to walk with her daughter Connie around the northern flank of the Solway estuary. This out-of-the way and exposed place holds a significant meaning for Caroline and she wanted to share this history during the walk.
Artful Ways made me think more about the act of walking and I recalled my walks from 36 years ago on the Solway and the restorative power that came from being there; simply pausing to breathe, evaluate and reflect within Nature. My walks always pointed me in the direction of Cumbria where I now live and work and have done for several decades, perhaps as my daughter suggested I was “writing my future without knowing it”.
Caroline and Connie made an audio recording of their conversation. If you’d like to listen in, this is available at the bottom of this post.
Looking to Cumbria
I’ve always considered myself blessed to be able to work within the Arts and creative industry – it’s been a dream come true since my childhood. However, the emerging Covid-19 global pandemic and resulting Lockdowns impacted hugely on my sense of well-being and creative capacity. Creativity for me is synonymous with Freedoms, freedoms to experiment, to imagine, challenge, collaborate and create and it’s part of a deeper understanding of who we are. But in these times of pandemic my thoughts shifted away from creativity to confusion, and to concerns much closer to home. Ours has been a ‘shielding’ household and with that anxiety, came significant fears. I didn’t want covid with its terrible consequences to come knocking at my door, and like many people, the last thing I wanted to do was act beyond the immediate enduring moment, so making art seemed trivial. I began to feel disengaged and fearful; I was losing my sense of who I am and recognised the that last time I felt such vulnerability or uncertainty was after my father’s death in the early 1980’s, when I was all but 18 years old and trying to find my place in the world.
At that time, I used to walk alone along a part of the Solway shoreline, always facing towards Cumbria and reflecting on my insignificant small-ness amidst the Solway’s vast panorama. This is a stunning but brutal landscape and being pounded by the winds, it courses through your veins.
I’d walk there alone with my dog and stare out to the horizon and gradually, little by little – I’d recalibrate.
Artful Ways made me think more about the act of walking and I recalled my walks from 36 years ago on the Solway and the restorative power that came from being there; simply pausing to breathe, evaluate and reflect within Nature. My walks always pointed me in the direction of Cumbria where I now live and work and have done for several decades, perhaps as my daughter suggested I was “writing my future without knowing it”.
I also recognised that one of the most significant connections of this place had been lost – my children knew nothing about this special place as I’d never returned there, so they knew nothing of its significance to me or how it had helped shape and maybe even heal me. I reflected that if we are to know ourselves better in identity and from one generation to the next, we need to share in connectedness and tell of with the places and stories that come from our earlier lives, otherwise our heritage, culture, and sense of who we are, becomes lessened.
I realised that this was a slightly different proposal for Artful Ways to consider, as the walk indeed took us beyond the county’s demarcation, but its conversation is rooted in ideas of a Cumbria perceived from afar – looking back to, or is it looking forward? And after all there is only one body of water flowing in the Solway estuary making it one whole ecology. I decided that due to the dislocation of Covid-19, this was the right time to re-visit the Solway shores and to take my daughter with me. It seemed like a sort of mother/daughter pilgrimage, observing the changes, connections, and meaningfulness along the way.
Listen to the conversation between Caroline and Connie:
This is a gentle and slow conversation – just under half an hour in length.