It was one of those miserable sort of drizzly rainy days today.
None of that seemed to bother Maisy though; she still wanted to pad her paws around the park. So, I scurried along the pavement keeping my head low and in so doing I noticed how interesting pavement actually is. I have been visiting this village for 12 years but never really noticed what was beneath me.
It was obvious from all the patch ups, that little regard had been paid to the pathway design over the years. Just a practical layering of different materials and varying levels of nature's fingers, gently trying to reclaim.
I found myself wondering ... is pavement what artists would term, negative space; that is, space in and around the significant object? And if it is, should pathways be positive space?
The idea intrigued me and I found it quite poignant. Are the paths we tread, simply journeys around something more significant?
I realised that I seldom notice how loud I walk or the different sounds my shoe'd feet make. Next time you are out walking, notice the sound of your footsteps in your head.
And if pathways are negative space, what happens when 2 negative spaces come together?
And then I wondered how many negative spaces I could fit into one photograph. What is it to look through the space between the branches, or the reflections in drains, or the cement between paving slabs.
I found myself wondering what is the relevance of this to drama? What do we want our audience to feel underfoot? Do we even consider this? Do we think about how loud their shoes click on the floor, or our own feet?
I smiled to myself because I realised that I really like being the kind of creative that would have these thoughts, simply from looking at pavement cracks. I pondered on how important it is that we nurture what my teacher's would have called day dreaming but what was in fact, me trying to work out the world in a different way to them.
Now, it was not a miserable day at all. It was a day full of wondering and despite the drizzle, I felt my back straighten, my head held level, and I thought to myself,
'Aw, look at Maisy. She's wagging her tail.'