Lake Turkana -- not to be

As is revealed now, I did not leave on my little private expedition into the wilderness. Lake Turkana - the Jade Sea -- the place I have dreamed about visiting since I can remember, the one place in the entire Africa, on this entire year-long journey I have undertaken, that I wanted to see, to experience, to live -- I am now not going to get to. But, as big as the disappointment is -- I had made a promise to my children and I keep my promises, so, I simply have to accept that such are the ways of this continent, and such are the ways of motherhood.

I am trying to process this disappointment right now. Obviously I have had disappointments before -- big, life-changing events that hurt, confused, bewildered, surprised, shocked, left me in an altered state -- and yes, obviously one gets over those disappointments -- albeit as an altered person. And then -- obviously! -- you look around you and see the wonderful world around you -- and live the moment.


And -- over the last few months, it has often occurred to me how this vast continent of Africa can be described in the same way -- and, on occasion, I have written about Africa and the influences on it, the changes it is undergoing, the cruelties inflicted on it, the hardships, its strength, its energy, its beauty -- as if it is itself a person like you and I.. The similes are there -- so much so that it is hard not to think of this mass of land as a living organism - to anthropomorphize it and see it as having a heart, a soul, a personality such as that of a human being.

So -- with the change in plan and the shattering of a dream, and with these last comment in mind, it was quite a remarkable coincidence that I opened the latest entry on a website I subscribe to this morning, watched the excellent short clip and then read the artist's comments:

Perhaps you would like to do the same:
The Film clip

Doug Aitken reveals the dining table origins of Altered Earth:

“The project came out of a casual dinner amongst friends who had connections with the Camargue. They were speaking about this place that has an incredible resonance. It’s very surreal, very stark. There is a rawness and sense of survival that captured my imagination. I had a glass of wine that was on a paper napkin and I noticed drips from the red wine starting to bleed into the pulp of the napkin, just as they were talking about the Rhone River and how it cuts through the wetlands.

I felt like I was holding the geography in my hand almost, this perfect square with a river running through it. I began to fold the napkin as they were speaking into an origami-like shape and realized that what I was actually doing was taking the landscape and dividing it. When you divide something and multiply it, it creates shapes, forms and structure, which eventually creates architecture.

The idea came to me really quickly that it would be interesting to take the geography of Camargue itself and divide it—in so doing creating this set of restrictions, that this region, this space, will be the only space we film in. We will look at the different symptoms of this place and move from there; let the landscape, and what you find when you are exploring and discovering it, create the texture of the narrative.”