'Madron mist' fine art print

This is a fine art print of my original ink painting 'Madron Mist', 2024.

There's a well in Madron, just a short walk from Penzance where I live. The first time I walked there (not knowing anything about the place), a row of trees was surrounded by mist; you could barely see the end of the path. It was a little spooky, almost like I wasn't alone, but it was deathly silent save for the creaking of old trees in that constant Cornish breeze. That odd feeling of needing to look behind you was overwhelming! And then feeling silly when you finally turned around, only to find the empty path through which you just walked.

And there it was. The mossy bog, the well, and the cloutie (ribbon) tree. People have come here for centuries for healing, for the water's magic properties, and to tie ribbons and pieces of cloth as offerings. As I was walking around, it still felt spooky, but in a more familiar way. Like an outsider that is being cautiously welcomed. Still shrouded in mist, but lifting as I left.

I've gone there many times since, in the rain, in mizzle, in sunshine, but never again in mist. Always in awe of the place, which feels heavy (and light?) with something, but not being able to put a name to it. 

And so I think of all the people that came through, with their ribbons, offerings, wishes, and desires. Saying thanks, pleading for health, hoping for love. Bringing them to the well and leaving a piece of themselves with it.