‘I placed seven pieces of charcoal in a line delineating the space. I found my place on the bridge and began to work the twine slowly a rhythm began to form and I was there, surroundings fizzled out and my focus began to steady, each link connected to the next and my thoughts flowed with their interconnection to thoughts of each one as if a being, a person, people past and present. I was drawn to the tree beside me leaning over the bridge’s side tying the first part of the worked twine onto one of its branches, the tree became my anchor physically but also on another level, I felt a real connection beginning to form and I drew comfort from the tree and it’s elongated gray trunk-like branches.

From this distance I could see another tree with yellow drooping branches moving in the wind, this was to be my connection on the other side. As the piece began to grow I began to use the wind, holding it up high as to lift it off the bridge and shapes took form in the air and in the shadows on the bridge floor which was covered in a sandy grit giving it a crunchy texture. I created a circle using the charcoal marking the ground defining a space, it seemed a little heavy so using my fingers I began to merge the marking with the grit of the bridge, I interwove two pieces of the charcoal into my twine piece, going on instinct this felt right, just two. The charcoal initially was being respected by the many passers by curious as to what was taking place and then slowly it became crushed Irish charcoal merging with the gritted path of Germany at an intersection of East and West.

By now the length of my twine had grown enormously and so had its weight, for some reason lifting the crocheted twine high in the air became a task in its-self, allowing it to drop low to the ground for the passing bikes, dogs and walkers. The breeze began to cool and I caught moments of sun closing my eyes to feel its warmth… I looked again up at the tree, but there was no way to reach it when I suddenly noticed out from the bridge support a tree was growing in the small space that extended past the width of the bridge floor, it was growing in the gathered dirt and leaves, I felt this was very poignant and a perfect fit for the connection, when the connection was made I felt a rush to walk away, I walked quite quickly as if I needed to get some air and walked down to a small lake surrounded with dead reeds after climbing over a small barrier I began to gather the reeds breaking them down low to keep their length, on walking back I noticed myhand was bleeding. Walking back up I held the reeds near to me noticing their dead dry structure and thoughts of the temporal nature of our bodies came into my mind.

When I reached the bridge it seemed like a natural action that I would make a clearing using the heads of the reeds brushing them against the coarse grit on the bridge, following this I moved to the centre stepping up on the side ledge and throwing the reeds one by one into the water, I felt very sombre and reflective, they began to form patterns and floated slowly away together… When I had gone down to the reeds there was a beautiful smell in the air it was coming from a large tree covered with white blossom, I took some small bundles of these and gave these as gifts.

I moved into the remnant of one of my black circles that I had drawn earlier and coiled into a crouched position by now the cold had gotten inside me and I could feel my body shaking. I used the headdress to wrap around my arms as best I could, I felt alone, unseen and yet I was aware that my positioning would disturb the flow of passers by within the space, private emotions were stirred up inside me and a sadness enveloped me, my thoughts drifted further to those who had nothing, those who were the conveniently unseen, those who were always out in the cold.’