Forth rail bridge which spans the Firth of Forth on the way into Edinburgh. It is said that as the bridge is so long - upwards of 2.5 km - that once you have finished painting it you have to go back and start all over again. There is some curious fun in imagining the hardy painters, like Sisyphus with his boulder, living a constant yet noble task in keeping the mighty and spectacular structure safe from the wear of the notoriously brutal Scottish elements. Unsung heroes filled with the purpose of a never ending function.
Last week I wrote a little on the benefits of art and creative pursuits; on the unerring dedication to the process of creation and I began thinking, thinking about my (possibly overzealous) use of the term process and its near undefinable hidden structure on the way we produce art.