But what's happening with the sea? If you go out to the horizon in
your imagination, where is it going left? The sun comes up here behind
you and goes down over there. The sun is always going down to this
mysterious place - it's actually Labrador. The fishing boats went
out there and came back. You go out to Seal Island and you get a bit
of it: Suddenly you're down in the swell of the ocean or over the
top of it and the cliffs are black.
That
sense of where you are in your childhood's headspace: In your
left hand it's over there where the sun sets. When you look back
you map on your body your life's journey. The way the map is constructed,
even the way we see the earth is literally a construction. When
you take it apart it's just history but your own journey is unique.
That's the special thing when you begin to draw and paint your
life in your work.
If
you come here you dream of living here or coming back. If you come
here as a child you never forget. If you've grown up here you have
to deal with the problems thrown up with the effects of tourism
as an industry - a disneyfication, a picturesque, a cheapening of
values and a false glorification of its wonderfulness.
You
can't escape. Oxygen is being pumped into just about everything
that can make a buck for good reason. Cornwall has always been exploited
and the people who live here the most exploited. The people of this
place are scattered to the ends of this earth - most of them.