About Effigies in a Wood

Effigies in a Wood

I made crude shamanistic figures out of hessian and cord, although not quite intending them to be the effigies they seemed to become. They accompanied me to a secluded woodland. Light in the  woodland morphed from dappled to mottled as the sun battled with clouds, and earthy scents rose from the damp forest floor and a curious scene unfolded—a fleeting installation born of impulse and introspection.

Alone with just the crude figures in the emptiness as we ventured beneath the autumn canopy. I built a makeshift shelter from fallen branches. In this shelter, the effigies were laid and dwelt quietly and still for a time. I felt directed to suspend them in the shelter, their suspension allowed them to move in errant breezes. I shivered their presence more sinister than I had intended in the eerie shadows.

As the forest murmurs shrouded me, introspection ensued—a recognition of life's impermanence and the beauty in imperfection. The effigies, acting as conduits for contemplation, invited thoughts on life and death, on light and shadow, form and void.

I took photographs and videos, hoping to capture the installation's raw essence and its sinister overtones, a testament to life's fleeting nature. In woodland whispers, the figures, shadow and substance, swayed in the wind, silent reminders of ancient knowledge. 

Finally, I placed my wood cut-out word onto a branch, for in the end, all is a 'whatever'.