Imogen Bone

Walking is a very convenient way to explore the landscape and has become integral to my work. I am often found ambling along the footpaths or hopping over the rocks to seek out new painting locations. I was looking for a new way to approach painting Mount’s bay and thought this was a good opportunity to go overland and see the view afresh. No better route to take than the ancient way of St. Michael walking from Lelant to Marazion.

Now I am not a religious person but I can appreciate the notion of a pilgrimage. All that’s really required is time, a willingness to complete the route, a comfy pair of shoes and a packed lunch. I can also appreciate that the early day pilgrims from the north on their way to Santiago de Compostela in Spain being reluctant to sail their boats around the waters of Cape Cornwall therefore deciding to abandon ship and hot foot it overland to St. Michaels Mount, a site of spiritual significance before continuing onwards. A few years back I waked the last 100km of the famous Camino de Santiago with a group of friends. Honestly, even though we missed our flight and had to make up the miles it was one of the best holidays I’ve ever had. Our only requirement each day to cover a certain amount of distance, even then it was too vital if we went over or under the miles we had allocated ourselves. Life can become busy and complicated and it is quite liberating to only have one objective to complete each day.This later spurred me on to complete the John o’ Groats to Land’s End cycle with a different friend. This too has a somewhat disruptive start and and it’s own challenges (bikes getting lost, us getting lost, so much rain) but we had a fantastic time, wheeling our way through the country. It does give your head enough time to catch up on processing thoughts. Whether your pilgrimage is a day, a week or a month and whether you call it a journey, a walk or a pilgrimage  there is a satisfaction on completion of the route, legs tired and head clear. So it pleased me immensely to be back on the track of the scallop shells (the official camino signpost markers) for this exhibition.

From Lelant Saltings railway station this coast to coast walk takes you alongside the Hayle estuary and if it is low tide you can take advantage of walking shoreside of the railway tracks. Heading up the path to the official start of the walk is the charming church of St. Uny and it’s ramshackle cemetery with headstones poking out of the primroses and bluebells that grow with great abundance in spring. As you pass over the sand dunes above Porth Kidney beach, the view opens out as river meets sea and the long beaches of Gwithian and Godrevy. This was always a favourite stop for a quick paint, the spikes marram grass nudging me to get moving again. On higher ground blackthorn and gorse keeps you from getting too close to the edge and you can peek though to the turquoise waters below. On the ascent to Knill’s monument you enter a warren of pathways through the bracken, the first of many opportunities to get a little bit lost.

The mid section of the walk and of the map may as well be marked with ‘Here be Giants’ as this is the land of giants, boulders and cows. I have walked this route in it’s entirety twice. My first complete route was was solo, with a hand drawn route map I had printed off the internet. No OS map, no smartphone. Needless to say, I did get lost, I blame the cows. They scared me and I went off piste. The second time I had a smart phone, OS map and my cow loving partner Hugo to same me from these giant beasts. This mid section is dairy country and my previous experiences of being chased led me to be wary. If they were on the other side of the field, great, I could scurry along and hope they didn’t notice me, pretending to be calm but actually panicking. If they were scattered or close, I would wait a while til they vacated the area, and if they didn’t, I was off to pastures new. Even cow loving Hugo agree to reroute when a herd of young bullocks started gently pawing at the ground. Sometimes my short outings were cut shorter, but my appreciation of fences definitely grew greater.

As well as giant cows, there are some cracking lumps of granite and the myths of the giants themselves in this section. One of the highlights of this walk was being up on Trencrom hill, which was an iron age hill fort with it’s spectacular views over both north and south coasts. Trencrom was also home to the giant Trecobben. Some of the lumps of granite up here have notable names, the giants chair, giant’s cradle and of course a massive boulder near the base called bowl rock. Supposedly left there when the giants had a game of bowls. When they were having a genteel game of bowls, they were hurling rocks at each other. Alas one that Trecobben thew killed Cormoran’s wife, Cormelian and her headstone is now known as chapel rock in Marazion. Cormoran and Cormelian built their home and their own vantage point in the forrest. Their rock outcrop is now known as St. Michaels mount. As it was Cormoran was somewhat of a terror and pillaged the local farmers fields. His fate was met by a wily lad known as Jack the brave who trapped and killed the giant leaving Marazion in peace once more. A heart shaped cobble on the path up to the mount is said to have one been Cormoran’s heart.

This walk not only has commanding views but takes you through some very old paths where the hedges are so high with the passage of footsteps wearing the land lower with every tread. Verdant in springtime, the bluebells almost luminescent in the shade and cow parsley climbing up to the light and frothing over the edges. Pops of pink punctuate the cool colours from the campion. In spring three cornered leeks dominate the woodland permeating the air with their pungent tang. Clouds of midges congregate in shimmering clouds over damp paths and fords, sticking to your skin as you swat your way through.

The second half of the walk is dominated by destination, St. Michael’s mount nearly always in view. Much of the land seems softer on the sunny southern side and fields of cabbages, wheat and corn patchwork the view. I feel it is perpetually cabbage season in Cornwall, neat rows of just planted plugs, great orbs of green or the cut rotting stumps, the cabbage is integral to this landscape. The curves of the cabbage leaves lent themselves to pleasing wiggly movements on the canvas, not dissimilar to breaking waves and a joy to paint in contrast to the strict field boundaries.

For this exhibition much of the work is small scale. A snapshot of place. I really embraced these mini works as I could show more locations and get a feel for how larger paintings would look. The fields of cabbages and the building on the mount were complex to paint, a level of accuracy required versus the energy and freedom I love to work with. They were a challenge but I felt it right to give them the time and consideration they deserved. As the journey was one from north to south I was always heading towards the light.The sun at different times of year not only casts a spectrum of light colours but yields and array of deeper shades in the shadows. These different colours and moods of light and weather affect my approach in applying the paint. Some marks need a soft touch and some need a sharper attack. There is an evolution through the whole body of work and I will often revisit early paintings and work them until they are on an equal footing as the later paintings. It takes time to put a collection together and I feel this is only a glance at the route. There is so much more that I haven’t captured visually, not all the imagery in my head has made it onto paper yet. I think this walk gave me more than I had anticipated and I am pleased I can share a glimpse of it with you.