The Pasticheur: “Chalk Stone White”
We walk across collapsed burial mounds, along worn tarmac and salt marsh, through quagmires where black crows pick at the remnants of life. ‘THIS TERRAIN MIRRORS OUR OWN MOMENT. PAST AND PRESENT NO LONGER SIT IN SEQUENCE BUT OVERLAP, ERODING INTO ONE ANOTHER. THE CHALK CLIFFS, CONTINUALLY SHAPED BY PRESSURE AND WEATHER, REVEAL HOW ALL










