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Anthropologist, Tim Ingold, reminds me that we employ all the senses when we experience place. In the book, Being Alive: Essays on movement, knowledge and description, he asks:
‘What difference does it make that pedestrian touch carries the weight of the body rather than the weight of the object? And how does the feel of a surface differ, depending on whether the organ of touch is brought down at successive spots, as in plantigrade walking, or allowed to wrap around or slide over it, as can be done with the fingers and palm of the hand?’ (p45)
Sensory perception of our surroundings, and the space and objects within it, is a crucial aspect of Place Writing. So, let’s read this quote again and think about how we experience place through touch.
Last year I spent time researching a landscape that contained a small wood. I purposefully sought out trees of different varieties and sizes, to feel their trunks and branches and leaves, and to examine their texture and temperature for strength and fragility, with my hands and fingers and, yes, even my face. Laying my cheek against the deeply fissured grey bark of a mature ash tree, registering its age through its scratchiness, there was a spiritual as well as a physical relationship as my ear bonded to its craggy surface and I focussed my attention on listening, imagining the sound of sap rising and falling, in tune with my own blood pumping, and the life of the tree, for a short moment, spoke to me through this intimate embrace.
When we write about place let’s think about it from the perspective of the body in space and how it can connect with its surroundings. Enjoy the beauty of it and take time to appreciate it. The natural landscape is important, of course, but the manmade plays an equal part in our relationship to place. Galen Cranz, a champion of body conscious design, advocates for heightened awareness of posture and examines how the human form can find more natural ways of resting, and she reminds designers of their responsibilities in this regard. So, when Ingold talks about allowing the body ‘to wrap around’ an object, we could think about chairs, benches, beds, and the way we connect to them with different parts of our body, clothed or naked, comfortable or awkward. Such ideas can be incorporated into our writing on place.
What sensory experiences have you recently read about or written about? I’d love to know.
Credits & Links:
Photo is my own.
More about Tim Ingold here. His book can be purchased here.
More about Galen Cranz here.
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I’ve naturally have done this in so many places I’ve visited. Touch and ancient tree in the Seqs or a Roman ruin, and feel the energy from the past. ✨✨✨
Your exploration of touch as a gateway to a deeper connection with place resonates powerfully with the practice of mindful presence. When you described pressing your cheek against the ash tree's bark, it reminded me of how often we rush through spaces without truly experiencing them. I think there’s profound wisdom in pausing to engage fully with our surroundings – whether natural or human-made.
Thank you for this thoughtful reminder to slow down and truly feel the world around us. And thanks for planting the seed to incorporate more sensory perceptions into my writing.