In the early 2000s, I rented a studio space in a disused Coastguard lookout at Middle Beach, Studland (on land now lost to the sea).

The hut was perched a few yards from the coarse red clays of Redend Point with the contrasting white dazzle of Old Harry Rocks just beyond.

I began swatching, dribbling, powdering, scratching, grating materials from cliffs, soils and beaches in the vicinity. Squeezing fistfuls of clays, I could feel the balance of clay, silt, and sand in a sample. Scooping residues from puddles I learned about the complexity of puddle particles. Milky puddles mirrored the chalk-stained seas around Old Harry after a storm. 

Twenty years have passed since the first sheets of paper were littered with samples, observations and assorted stuff. I retain the curiosity and simplicity of that initial response in my current practice, yet, repetition is never quite repetition, and I continue to learn more about what it is to be alive to the world.

Palette-gathering is mysterious and rather wonderful in the way it continues to evolve. It has deepened into a divinatory practice involving an intentional shift in quality of attention. I’ve developed a holding structure to support this. 

The ritual is as follows:

• Pause at a threshold (a gate, puddle or stone) 
• Enter the location respectfully
• Seek permission to engage with the commune of the Place
• Cultivate porosity
• Allow
• Say thank you before leaving