Post Hoc Exilium (after this exile). A line from a very early Christian hymn, Robert MacFarlane talks, in his book 'The Wild Places', of monks who chose to live on remote Scottish Islands building tiny cells and living in harsh conditions in order to be closer to God. They felt that they were in exile from heaven.
In a remote Cornish bay in the idyll of my childhood I would stand in the clear water and try to touch the ferny seaweeds that floated there. Their texture was beautiful but I could not touch it, I was of the earth and air, they of the water. I could only try and touch them with my mind.
In 2016 I began a residency with the vascular surgery unit at St.Mary's hospital in Paddington London (see the Thread Management blog in the side menu). Whilst working there with Professor Colin Bicknell I could not touch I could only look but I saw him train a young surgeon by allowing her to put her hand on his as he felt his way through to where he needed to be.
The piece that you see here represents all that I know of my craft mapped onto what I know of the surgeons.
Though there is the obvious parallel between our knowledge what it also speaks of is the extension of touch that I already understood and the extension of empathy that I had to make to understand the world of surgery.