Figure / Ground / Paint / Rock

We / fit together as tectonic plates do — / one of those rare natural puzzles.  —Jennifer Richter in Dear Future

This series of animated finger markings in red (ochre? blood? berry?) on the lower section of the stone face contrast with the more precise and intentional forms on the upper -- the lightning snake, the circles....

Here, the paint appears as pressings, slappings, draggings -- wondering.... acts of inquiry? supplication? yearning? The stone itself so very complex pulls all meaning toward a magnetic core of origin.

Figure and ground, the red markings emerge from stone bearing invocation, offering in-sight.

 

This outcrop roughly furred and fractured bears forth seasons of knowing and forgetting. 

 

CODA
Smelt the gold and silver
Hiding in the rock. 
Glimpse what can't be glimpsed. 

Wherever the soul soared, 
Fire was there first. 

Everything I don't know, 
Love will tell you.

 

    —Rumi. (trans Haleh Liza Gafori in GOLD (2022) 

FURTHER… A 2023 post of this stone offers views in a dappling morning, deepening a fading field of shadows. SHADOWING RED

The Oblique Angle of Time

Every act of memory is an act of forgetting. 

 

The tree of memory set its roots in blood. 

 

In forgetting lies the liquefaction of time.
—Lewis Hyde, Aphorisms

A grotto in the Ochocos holds rock paintings. How and when the cave has been occupied, the impulse shaping the graphic rock paintings, remains unknown. This deep, obscure cave, on private property, requires permission. 

To view details, click on photo to enlarge

 

These red ochre-based paintings envisioned with clear focus and intention. The markings appear to be done using fingers or a softened twig as a brush. The style similar to others on rock faces scattered at various places in central Oregon. Likely influenced by the traditions of the indigenous peoples of the Snake River (moving west) and/or Columbia River (moving south) regions.

 

To decipher the invisible: to recall not the past exactly but the atemporal suchness of things, their otherwise obscure being. —Lewis Hyde in A Primer for Forgetting

 

Below, at the deep end of the cave fire blackening carbon stains the ceiling and walls.

 

It has nothing to do with loneliness, for loneliness presupposes memory. Here, in this wholly mineral landscape lighted by stars like flares, even memory disappears; nothing is left by your own breathing and the sound of your heart beating. —Paul Bowles

Black Canyon

Black Canyon wildfire in early July was sparked by lightning on the Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge. Luckily contained at 1500 acres. Recalling, camping a few years ago with friends near Black Canyon. The July fire was further south than Black Canyon proper and rock art on a rough low ridge. (Black Canyon - Lorings’ site 151)  With good fortune, a stony walkabout, guided by indigenous Mule Deer, may reveal an outcrop of rough stone which holds forth petroglyphs. 

 

The Lorings: "The most unique design resembles a large elaborate lizard. 19  inches high by 12  inches wide, with concentric circles for head, feet, and  tail."

 

CODA
Lewis Hyde tells this story:  Said John Cage to the painter Philip Guston, "When you start working, everybody is in your studio—the past, your friends, enemies, the art world, and above all, you own ideas—all are there. But as you continue painting, they start leaving, one by one, and you are left completely alone. Then, if you're lucky, even you leave."

Taking this to Black Canyon, let's say as you walkabout, your ideas start leaving, one by one, and...

Ogham Stones

 The real constitution of each thing is accustomed to hide itself. —Heraclitus, frag. 123

Standing forth wondering what does this stone remember?  How has the stone itself forgotten. Ogham is an ancient Irish alphabet carved vertically on stones. This early Christian practice traveled in the 5th-7th centuries to about a hundred known places in western Wales, Cornwall and Scotland.

Edge notches and discrete incised lines inscribe memory, as memorial, as boundary.  This 6th century. Ogham stone (above) stands next to this 10th century Celtic Cross (below) cornered by the wall of St. Brynach's Church in Nevern, western Wales.

Looking on, thinking, we need Time to remember, but Time does not need us to forget.

St Llawddog's churchyard, Cilgerran, Wales, an Ogham stone (right) stands with grave-slabs.

Four close-ups of the Cilgerran stone, weathered Ogham notchings are inscribed and can be discerned along the edge. Below, on the dark face of the stone, is a Latin inscription restating the Ogham inscription.

The stone and the rose -- all is transitory, all in the now of presence.  The chalked markings present a re-remembering, perhaps a ritual of forgiving. The Sacranus Stone  stands in the entry way of the parish church of St Thomas the Martyr in the village of St Dogmaels. The church, on the grounds of the Norman abbey now in ruins, holds several inscribed stones connected to an earlier 5th-century Christian monastery.

Inscribing is holy. Words are holy.  The photograph is holy.  All drumming down the halls of the moment called time.

NOTE
Photos: May 2025, Western Wales.  With gratitude to T&B and Jackson for their spirited goodwill. The people and places ever kind and patient with the curious and lucky traveler. Especially helpful, the mother of the Vicar at St Brynach’s, and Sarah with her generous welcoming to St Llawddog’s Church, as it happened, on the 80th anniversary celebration of VE (Victory Europe) Day, May 8 2025, photo below.  -DB

Sundial of St Beuno

my body opened at the knowledge of existence
and of being, confused and diffused
my body trembled and sighed
to a forgotten song
not yet a fugitive of music
I knew the place of time
and the time of place
—Alejandra Pizarnik 

 

Standing next to this 10th century granite slab-type sundial time I wonder... how does time matter, or rather appear? And so, this musing:  time matters. With a gnomon (rod-pointer) extending from the drilled hole, the sun’s shadow would mark the canonical hours as it crossed the linear incisings.

This sundial, a slab-dial with a cross of western Celtic pattern at its head, once marked the monastic daily cycle. The linear incisings, some still visible, marked the canonical hours, the divisions of the day for fixed times of prayers, often the three-hour intervals of religious services appointed by canon law.  Time plays on and on as many come and go.

Located in Clynnog Fawr, North Wales, it is a type also known in Ireland, but thought to be unique in Wales and is a Grade II listed monument. According to Cadw, the Welsh Government’s historic environment service, “probably still standing in its original location on a major religious site.” Perhaps, and No. And yes.

H. Harold Hughes in a 1931 Miscellanea “An Ancient Sun-Dial at Clynnog” notes:  Fenton writes (in Tours in Wales, 1813) that from Clynnog, "In our way to Carnarvon about a mile on our road, observe a long stone of a curious grit, with a cross in a circle on one end which appears to have been a tomb or shaft of a cross.”' Hughes in 1931 learned the stone-slab was used a footbridge and later moved to a farm “to support milk-pails.”  His group helped the Vicar of San Beuno Church relocate the sundial-slab to where they believed it belonged: next to the chapel in the churchyard.

 

With this stone I gaze at the ancient churchyard, populated with inscribed slate stones, some for the ancient monks. Imagining, for a thousand years in place at the corner of the St Beuno Chapel and the 16th century St Beuno Church. And somewhere near a lost 7th century monastery.  

The free-standing sundial is my height. Ambiguously Cadw notes:  “approximately 2m high (reduced by c30cm).”  The “reduced” is not explained. From the rear view the top appears rough. Was there more to the cross?  What does Time not tell?

Hughes, a Bangor architect, doesn’t clarify, but carefully measures the stone and notes:  “The full length of the stone is 9 feet 3 inches, but 2 feet 9 inches is buried below the ground surface.”  Hughes concludes: “The Clynnog dial appears to be unique as far as Wales is concerned. I have little hesitation in assigning its date to a pre-Norman period.” 

NOTES

—Appreciation to Ashley Batten, MA, MCIfA, Regional Inspector of Ancient Monuments and Archaeology North Wales, for his helpful advice after we crossed paths one fine morning in Penmaenmawr.

—Photos May 2025.  Red arrow, left in above photo of St Beuno Church, indicates the Sundial next to the Chapel. (click to enlarge) 
—Alejandra Pizarnik, from Extracting the Stone of Madness (translated by Yvette Siegert, 2016).

—H. Henry Hughes in a 1931 Miscellanea “An Ancient Sun-Dial at Clynnog” in Archaeologia Cambrensis.

—Cadw. Full Report for listed Buildings: Sundial in the churchyard of the Church of St Beuno. https://cadw.gov.wales/
—https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clynnog_Fawr

—Speculative binaries:  Marcia Bjornerud, in Timefulness, distinguishes Time as something that simply marches on — chronos — and Time that is defined within a narrative — kairos.  Similarly, Stephen Jay Gould shapes a geologic dynamic as: Time’s Arrow, Time’s Cycle. 

CODA
And, above all, to look on innocently. As if nothing were happening, which is true. —Alejandra Pizarnik

 

Another Tale of Time in Clynnog Fawr

 

Cupped Dolmen in Wales

One begins to understand that rocks are not nouns, but verbs — physical evidence of processes…  —Marcia Bjornerud, Timefulness 

Dolmen near the Irish Sea on the Llŷn peninsula  

This cromlech near Clynnog Church in Carnarvonshire has nothing very remarkable about it, except that the upper face of the covering-stone, measuring eight feet by five feet eight inches, is covered with small artificial hollows, apparently placed without any attempt at order.  These markings are of more or less simple character. The most simple, and perhaps the oldest, form are the small cup-shaped hollows placed either in symmetrical order or scattered promiscuously. It may also be considered remarkable that the hollows are on the upper, not the under, side of the covering-slab. 

— E. L. Barnwell, from “Marked Stones in Wales,” Archacologia Cambrensis, April 1867.

Half a mile to the south-west of the village of Clynnog Fawr, stands near the sea a cromlech, consisting of a capstone and four props. This cromlech is described, under date 1772, in the old Rhyl MSS., compiled by the Rev. J. Llwyd, of Caerwys, as having upon its capstone "near a hundred shallow cavities running in oblique but almost parallel lines along, its surface, three much larger than the rest in a triangular position; it is supported by four strong bearers, and in length four cubits, in breadth three, its inclination towards the setting sun." 

—Sir James Y. Simpson, in Archaic Sculpturings of Cups, Circles… (1867) Included the above image, a plate lithograph from a sketch by Dr Hughes of Llanwrst, Wales.

Looking SE from the dolmen: left, Gyrn Goch and Gyrn Ddu, Right in the distance, the striking trio of hills known in English as the 'Rivals'. At 564 m, the central, Garn Ganol is the highest in the Llŷn peninsula; to the north-west, Garn Fôr (444 m), to the south-east, Tre'i Ceiri — with its extensive hillfort — at 485 m.

Bachwen Cromlech with Bard, watercolor, by 18th c. Welsh artist Moses Griffith (National Library of Wales). Click to enlarge.

This cromlech (the Welsh word for dolmen aka burial tomb) is well-known as the Bachwen Dolmen, an easy walk from Clynnog Fawr, on the western edge of Llŷn peninsula. The Neolithic dolmen is unique in Wales for its capstone with the numerous (promiscuous!) carved cupules. Pictures, comments and documentation can be found via the internet. 
Color photos: Douglas Beauchamp, May 2025.