New set of circles from today’s walk. Pottering with stuff I find along the way forcibly reminds me of the walks my dad made us kids do every – but every – sunday afternoon. I was usually far behind  the troops, twisting and torturing grass stalks, pieces of bark and other found footage into fantastic shapes. It was a way of thinking with my hands – feeling through a sea of possibilities – totally absorbing.

Most circles are one-minute-works  – the tree I tortured took longer. Tree torture has its  possibilities.  NB:  try some almost circles – when does the mind refuse to see a pattern?