Guy Moreton

Jacquetta Hawkes

'Walking between the high, crumbling cliffs and the sea, one is exposed to the assault of time. The great depths of soft, grey-blue soil suggest memory itself. To abandon oneself to them is like moving in that smoky world which is reached by moving among the images of the past stored in one's own brain. And there embedded in them are the perfect spirals of the ammonites, the slender cones of belemnites, and the glaring eyes of ichthyosaurs, to represent the vivid moments and the cruel monsters of memory'.