One of my favourite artists is the land artist and sculptor Andy Goldsworthy.

There are plenty of descriptions of his art, as well as images, to be found online: what always strikes me about his art can generally be put into two categories:

1. How ephemeral the work is. It doesn’t hang in a gallery, or stand (with an accompanying sign) in a public park. It challenges the age-old cliche of whether something really exists if there is none there to see it. Well, for someone to have created it the answer must be yes, and even when the elements are back in the seeming randomness of their environment, a shadow remains.
2. How precisely formed the work is. Out of all the stones in the field, or twigs in the hedge, what emerges is a well-ordered and shapely mass that has a meaning. It makes me think of writing, or painting: a honed, polished structure within a jumble of words or colours that has been given meaning, context.

The film produced about some of his creations and the creative process is also worth seeing: I watch it in quiet moments when I enjoy seeing the sculptures melt back into nature, having nevertheless left behind and imprint.