Patrick Sutczak

The first time I went to Marathon, I drank from the Nile, turned over stones in the dry and shallow Marathon Creek, and knelt down in the plains to feel the grass and warm earth beneath my fingers. I walked into the hills under sunshine and walked out again in the rain at dusk – wet and sensationally rich with the scents, sounds, and sights of Eucalypt forest. The next day, I took a different path to the hills.

                        Climbing

                  Pausing

          Sitting

Walking

/ Documenting, Listening, Being, Moving

The second time I went to Marathon, I drank from the Nile, plucked stones from the cool running waters of the Marathon Creek, and knelt down in the plains to feel the grass and moisture beneath my fingers. I meandered in solitude, and talked to myself. I looked up at the sky. I crossed fences, and discovered a wooden footbridge eroded by time. I stood on that footbridge and drank from my water bottle. I wondered if I would be the straw to break it. I was not, and I thought about that. I tried not to startle the sheep.

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Marathon is a fertile ground of ideas and intersections - human and non-human, the natural, the lost, the domesticated, the experimental, the scientific, the compassionate, the resourceful, the responsible, and the unknown. Here / There – is a space of dialogue that straddles simplicity and complexity. My time on Marathon is about personal intimacy with a landscape generously opened up for exploration, creative thought and response, while considering the land, the use, the conservation, and the relationships that ultimately develop when we think about nature, culture, agriculture, and survival.