UNDISCLOSED #9 – 28th September 2008

It must be around 8.30 am and I am on a Spring beach.

There are a few people around maintaining their early morning fitness regimes.

I find a spot in the sand that is firm but not too dry or wet, somewhere in between.

A place where, if I dig a few feet I might start to get water seeping up but am not in danger of waves coming in – yet.

I start digging.

The hole is over a metre long and around three quarters of a metre wide.

This seems easy work to begin with and I imagine just looks like I am someone playing in the sand for the sheer joy of digging.

It must be about 15 mins on and it is starting to get serious, I am going deep. I am trying for at least a metre and a half. It starts to get a bit tough because I need to start maintaining the walls to prevent them from caving in.

I am at about half a metre and I sit inside the hole and start digging from this position so my movement does not disturb the edges as much.

I am excavating the part of the hole in front of me, in effect creating a seat where I can dig from.

I am getting somewhere and the sand is moist enough and the air cool enough that it does not dry quickly, so it adheres together nicely. I am pounding the walls to make them hard and solid.

I am standing in the deeper part of the hole, which I think is getting to the depth I want and I start scooping off layers from the higher part. I am actually creating a seat.

I think I have now been going for what seems a long time but I am sure it is probably only about 40 mins or so.

The seat is patted down now and I can sit on it. The bottom of the hole is a little soggy with water seeping up.

 

My head and shoulders just come above the hole from this seated position.I am patting the sand around the perimeter of the hole making it nice and smooth. I write on one side

 

“Colonised”

and on the other side

“Coloniser”

I draw an arrow from both sides meeting in the front like the bow of a ship.

I sit down and look straight ahead.

I watch my horizon.

I watch my horizon.

I watch my horizon.

I am still.

I stand up, climb out and leave walking in the direction of the arrow.

 

~ by jvulcan on February 15, 2009.

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