v. Robert Smithson, on the shore of the Great Salt Lake:
From that gyrating space emerged the possibility of the Spiral Jetty. No ideas, no concepts, no systems, no structures, no abstractions could hold themselves together in the actuality of that evidence.¹
¹ Robert Smithson, The Spiral Jetty, 1972.
iv. The geometry of Tlön comprises two somewhat different disciplines: the visual and the tactile … [visual] geometry disregards parallel lines and declares that man in his movement modifies the forms which surround him.
iii. The wind and weight of the string exerted unexpected forces on us; Tlön, it seems, is a mountainous world.
ii. One end of the string was tied to an oval pebble and the other to a piece of petrified iron, which — with my companion stationed at the centre of the world — I set about dragging through the damp sand.
i. What scale this map of Tlön? How long, so to speak, is a piece of string. In this case, approximately 100m, yielding a circumference of around 630m that fitted neatly on an area of beach defined on three sides by water: the shore, the mouth of the Rother and a stream forging a gully through the sand, parallel to the sea.
iv. Or a novel…
The sun had not yet risen. The sea was indistinguishable from the sky, except that the sea was slightly creased as if a cloth had wrinkles in it. Gradually as the sky whitened a dark line lay on the horizon dividing the sea from the sky and the grey cloth became barred with thick strokes moving, one after another, beneath the surface following each other, pursuing each other, perpetually.¹
‘So of course,’ wrote Betty Flanders, pressing her heels rather deeper in the sand. ‘there was nothing for it but to leave.’²
¹ Virginia Woolf, The Waves, 1931.
² Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room, 1922.