The light changes frequently, from dull misty conditions, to sparkling sunshine overhead, accompanied by heavy rain. As I reflect on the ferns, I struggle, as I did yesterday, with the intense vibrance of their decaying fronds. I tend to be drawn to the muted palette of Loch Cill Chriosd in spring, rather than the current quite over-powering burnt orange hues of autumn. But the scene captures the reality of the lifecycle of these delicate yet resilient plants that litter the edges of the loch, providing a backdrop to the silvery shimmer of the reeds. And there are certainly glimpses of Derrida’s unnameable glimmer to be captured.

Collaborative Practice 29 – Alison Price, October 2022

Collaborative Practice 30 – Alison Price, October 2022

Collaborative Practice 31 – Alison Price, October 2022

Collaborative Practice 32 – Alison Price, October 2022
As far as the presentation of my images in a handmade book is concerned, although the ferns are brash, they do offer the opportunity to punctuate images of the subtle seasons of the loch, with a bright and dominant interlude, or a series of images in concertina form where the viewer can dwell in the autumn colours, if they wish.
As I work, I play with making subtle movements with the camera. The weather might be considered “drippy” or “dreich” as the Scots would say, and I try to capture that feel in my work – providing a sense of the climate the ferns endure. I feel more confident today as I become more familiar with the ferns as objects and subjects, rather than as a contextual background to the loch, and a place where sheep rest. I consider and reflect whether to explore the environs of the loch again, more quietly and carefully, as I had done in the early days of my PhD. Although I wonder whether expanding the natural objects I capture, might combine to give more than the hint of reality I am after and in so doing paint a fuller picture than I wish to reveal.
