A Year in the Life of a Field by Sam Francis | Field Post #1

The first Field Post by Sam Francis in response to an archival multi-disciplinary project based on the creative documentation of a ‘year in the life of a field’ by Lizzie Cox, at Arnolfini, in 1981.

Read full details of A Year in the Life of a Field here


[  vernal equinox ]
20.3.21 | 9:37am

at St. Audries Bay undressed in layer stripes I enter the water timed in blue : in green
imagining a field, a life lived in colour

| m e m o r y      t r a c e s |

*Lizzie Cox’s studio, March 2021

through the buzz songs of others
a place(s) in relation to a person
(and/or the other way around)
              | here | gone |  real |
shrouded in chock-full drawers, glutted boxes
footsteps: new-old, just-out, in-out, about
               alive | a life | oh!
stitched myths told lithe through grazing fabric
cracked orange slashed earth
                a field far more | less ordinary
than what. my ears hear for all of this,
eyes all a vigor, hands in sight



*earth cuts i, at Nettlecombe, shot on 35mm, March 2021




shul n. track (Tibetan)

“a mark that remains after that which made it has passed by – a footprint, for example. A path is a shul because it is the impression in the ground left by the regular tread of feet.” (Solnit, 2005)

*’Field’ slide transparency, Lizzie Cox’s studio, March 2021





= equal =

               light | dark

*earth cuts ii, at Nettlecombe, shot on 35mm, March 2021

[ b e n e a t h    t h i s ]


| then | now |

1:2 becomes 3:4

[ rhythm ]

feet | seasons

[ a spring in her  step ]


* line  colours at Nettlecombe, shot on 35mm, March 2021

At Nettlecombe, woken by a commune of ravens
overhead. Beneath a dawned yawn of rumbling,
tumbling oaks, verdant with lichen
pale gold, ripened moss chests.

Brown of root-earth-systems prop up
green dwellings of under-grassy-land,
hold of hand.
an utterance

100 thistles at Nettlecombe, March 2021

Many conversations (have) take(n) place in this place

Veering up-down, 1:2 under-hollow-foot,
without pause.
3:4 over-jagged land.

Echo-trace thrills on the chill breeze, endless routes
trill in cheek by jowl.

What now is then seen, past, trailing, continuous.

100 creeping thistles grow,
slow down low. Just a touch high.
a long intonation



Here it is that I begin a year-long exploration of a work and a person, a place(s); part 1:4 in seasons.  Discovering a life lived in colour through the fall of footsteps, the brush of a hand, the breath of a rich life told through the voices of others. A visit, discovery, a family so warm.  Of a  life lived in a barn, then a chapel. A certain field. A studio, and a life lived of love, art, and work.

Sign up to our newsletter

You can change your mind at any time by clicking the unsubscribe link in the footer of any email you recieve from us, or by contacting us here. We will treat your information with respect. By clicking below, you agree that we may process your information in accorandce with these terms