Gaia Walk


September 28, 2016

So what am I doing at the base of the sculpture ‘Birth’?


I’m carving the letters TODAY.

Six hundred million years earlier, visitors to Windgrove begin their 1.2 kilometre journey along the Gaia Evolution Walk where each big step (one metre) equals 500,000 years.

The years roll by with each step. From the Precambrian Eon through to the Cenozoic Era — via the Ordovician, Silurian, Devonian, Carboniferous, Permian, Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous Periods — The Walk is completed when people touch the sculpture ‘Birth’ with its inscribed word: TODAY

Interestingly enough, after almost five years in the making, this lettering marks the formal completion of the Gaia Evolution Walk. The Walk is finally finished.

“To the future”, I say.


On the gate is the sign: The Future. Once inside, students within the expansive classroom of the Wombat Circle talk, not only of what they learned along the Gaia Evolution Walk, but how they view the future of the planet, the environmental and social changes that will surely occur, and, most importantly, what role they might play in helping to create a peaceful word for themselves and others.


Another topic of discussion that I like to bring up is whether or not human constructed art has a place in the natural environment. Is the sculpture ‘Birth’ an eye sore? Or, a lovely addition to the surrounding trees? Is it just one man’s ego intruding on the landscape?

Or, does it move beyond a pleasing aesthetic and become transformative to a person’s life? And the earth’s.


Easter Rising

March 28, 2016

Finally, after many, many days of re-finishing the sculpture nicknamed the Pumpkin Pole, it was installed on the eve of Good Friday.


During the Easter weekend myself and Marisa have been working around the base of “Birth” in preparation of sowing grass.


Here’s a very short four second video that is fun to watch.

gaia from Peter Adams/Windgrove on Vimeo.


Monday work blues?

June 29, 2015

I would imagine that most people when heading off to work on a Monday morning would rather be home or, at least, not stuck in traffic.


My drive to work this morning was out towards the Point and the Wombat Circle; about a half kilometre, three minute drive. I would have walked, but the car had tools, drinking water, etc.


With heavy duty shears, for the past few weeks I have been cutting back and burning native currant bushes to create a large circle whose centre will mark the ending of the 1.2 kilometre Gaia Evolution Walk.

Yes, the work is exhausting and by the end of the day I want nothing more than a cold beer as any decent construction worker would want.


But while on the job and needing a bit of a rest, I just push through the gate to the Wombat Circle and rest with a cup of cold water and a packet of potato chips.


If the view gets too boring, I can take a short walk further south to the Point to refresh myself there.

All in all, not a bad place to spend a day working. And don’t think for a moment that I’m all alone. There are delights everywhere from eagles soaring overhead to seals frolicking in the water. And on the ground, countless droppings of wombat poo.


Gaia Walk update

June 1, 2015

Every afternoon after carving for most of the day, I leave my studio around 3PM and head out to the Point or other parts of the Gaia Evolution Walk to put in a couple of hours of work before the sun goes down.


The first photo shows my studio with the sculpture ‘Present Time’ on the work bench. It’s about nine foot long and will (one day) stand tall like a totem pole. In front and on the sawhorses are 22 sand blasted wooden posts that are to be installed along the Gaia Walk as soon as they are prepped — holes for steel posts and a bit of sanding.


I found this squashed creature along the Walk this past week and it somehow seems fitting to rest it on the stack of sandblasted posts.

Of the eventual 80 posts, to date forty have been placed along the 1.2 kilometre path.



The “20” signifies 20 million years ago. I, myself, find it interesting that for most of the history of Earth, there wasn’t the melodious voice of any bird to welcome in or close down the day.


Most of the 13 illustrative panels have been placed along the path as single units. The last three, however, representing the Cenezoic Era (65 million years ago to present day) have been placed together.

And, flat on the ground like all the others. Level, too. With a slight slope for drainage. And branches to deter wombats. Length is 3.6 meters or 12 feet.

I like the concept of ancient time buried in the earth, yet visible.


My shadow gives a sense of scale.


The star like mini-sculpture that I’m holding in my hand might look like an intentional artistic endeavour, but it’s nothing more than an off-cut.


To date there are 126 of these off-cuts.


They come from the ends of 63 hardwood signage posts varying in length from three feet to four and a half feet (or 900mm to 1400mm).


To date 15 of these posts — giving the evolutionary periods in millions of years — have been sand blasted.


And placed along the Gaia Evolution Walk.


Stay tuned. The Gaia drawings are presently being printed on 1200mm x 1600mm panels.


Walking towards hope

October 1, 2013

Every step we take is future directed. Whether seen or unseen, imagined or real, our life’s future awaits ahead of us. With curling finger eternally beckoning, time urges us towards her. From tippling toddler to, hopefully, cane assisted elder, our lives register as footprints on the vastness of the stellar sand that shapes the cosmic story.

For those of us still fortunate to have a beating heart we are called upon by life to continue walking onwards.

Walking, we move towards a future one step at a time.

Simply put, walking towards the future is an act of hope. And we all need hope.


Last week I mentioned how Ross Langdon was about to start work on a museum centered around the earliest fossil record of humanoids walking: two adults and one child. Preserved in volcanic ash and discovered in 1976 by Mary Leaky near the famous Olduvai Gorge, these 3.6 million year old tracks are called the Laetoli footprints and are located in the Ngorongoro Conservation Area in Tanzania. Importantly, they represent the first evidence of bi-pedalism in our human evolutionary history.


Of the paired photos above, the top photo shows the dining room table from two days ago with some of the 13 evolutionary Gaia Walk drawings artist Aviva Reed is working on. She arrived last week from Melbourne on the Tuesday to continue with her interpretative drawings just one day after the news of Ross Langdon and Elif Yavuz went global.

Take a look at the right side of this photo and notice a white banner hanging down in front of the french door. This is the same banner found behind the photo of Ross and Elif taken last year when they visited Windgrove. The words on that banner (and on the other smaller ones) read: “Love”, “Peace”, “Hope”.

Obviously there is some sort of synchronistic parallel between Ross’s African museum project and the evolutionary Gaia Walk project being constructed at Windgrove. My heart warms at this connection.

DSC_9357When Aviva’s mother came for a look see and brought along both Aviva’s daughter and grandmother, well, there were four generations of women down on the floor looking at the past 600 million years of our joint evolutionary history with flora and fauna.

In a moment of inspiration, it dawned on us that the Laetoli footprints had to, somehow, be drawn and incorporated into the Cenozoic Era panel.

To a special group of friends and family, this small inclusion will represent a secret connection and memorial to Ross Langdon’s last commission.

To the public at large, it will be a very poignant symbol of how — for 3.6 million years — people have been walking towards their/our collective future. Maybe with a touch fear, but always with a sense of hope that whatever lay ahead was their tomorrow.

We, who are so privileged to be alive and walking on this earth — an earth that has seen some 4.6 billion years come and go — what tracks are we laying down?

In honour of those who have completed their walking — whether a distant or very near memory — shouldn’t we keep on walking?

I hope so.

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