Regardless of these changes, it seems to me that my project The Shape of Water remains valid. The Island is still surrounded by water that affects how people live their lives, the climate and its history. Even from an aesthetic point of view, there is a great deal of water to photograph, given that at any time, such is the shape of the Island, you are only five minutes from the sea. On the Island itself there are many thousands of burns, waterfalls and inland lochs. Water is plentiful and rainfall is all too frequent. All these considerations led me to conceive of the The Shape of Water. My intent is to capture the constantly dynamic state of water, whether it be a fast-flowing burn, a waterfall in spate or the waves crashing on the beach. Similarly, the shape of water is equally mesmerising when waters are calm and tranquil. The waters in connecting with themselves and the land create shapes and forms that are unique at any moment in time and will be gone in an instant. Furthermore, the secrets beneath and the light and landscape above make for ever-changing palettes and opportunities. The camera with its ability to reduce space and freeze time is perfectly placed to record The Shape of Water.
Given the on-going building work on the house, I have decided to focus on my photographic practice for the next three weeks. I intend to spend more time in the landscape, seeking out the abstract details. I plan to play with my camera, write in my journal, reflect on the first seven months of the PhD and develop my attentive and creative writing skills. I will also experiment with Ryan’s (2019) strategy for opening non-conscious awareness as the gateway to essence. The first approach is through activation of the non-conscious with its cue-dependent structures. The non-conscious responds directly to emotional intensity that activates the ‘tags’ we lay down in the archives of the mind. Music can be profoundly powerful in this respect so I will be experimenting by trying to open my awareness through that means. His alternative strategy is to quieten the ceaseless processing of sensory experience – the chattering monkeys of our conscious engagement with the world as presented to us. Techniques for ‘zoning out’ via reflective concentration on details within the frame and other quasi-meditative skills can be very useful. For a start, I will use music to relax my mood, encourage the activation of my sub-conscious mind in deep engagement with the shape of water.
What do people say about plans – they rarely survive first contact with the enemy! I will not lose sight of my academic research and writing plans over the next weeks but I will take this opportunity to focus in a concentrated way on making work and reflecting on my practice.

Interesting use of “eroded”.
Makes me think of the Scottish islands that are now uninhabited because there was nothing there for the young people. It seems unfair as well as impractical to keep the island “pristine” and not let the people on it develop but to try to keep them as some sort of living folk museum.
Unless you are only focussing on the geography and geology of the island, but is that the essence of the island? Is it the island without the people that you want o portray as the essence?
Your house building is also part of the island. You and Bob are part of the island.
A further thought. Maybe you are looking at one aspect of the essence of an island and that your work is really about isolating that aspect. Then you have the eureka moment. Or is there something deeper underlying it all that you have yet to resolve?
Many thanks for your comments. Much to think about and I do take your point about whether I see the essence as being able to be reached without a study of the very people who live here.
An abstruse question to have been asked…
An island is a body of land surrounded by water, and usually that is sufficient to define it.
But Skye is quite unusual in that the island is actually a small core (the Cuillins) surrounded by many peninsulas. To me, the excitement of exploring the nature of water and Skye revolves around these and their relationship to the water rather than the island itself or the water in isolation. The tidal flow changes their form, of course, however being largely volcanic they are quite resistant to short-term erosion, so the structures have remained in place since the Mesolithic or earlier. These peninsulas often have a story of their own – land managed and land abandoned, shelter provided and shelter refused, water retained and water released. This can appear to be a dichotomy or a dynamic continuum depending on your perspective.
If you really want abstruse questions, then is Skye an island surrounded by water, or water penetrated by a much mangled volcano?
Many thanks for your thought-provoking question! I will indeed reflect on your question as to whether the shape of water is more about the hills and rocks it flows around rather than water itself.