Go to what the British blew up and we rebuilt at any time of the day and find a geocache.
Geocaching — an activity that involves using GPS to hide and search for stashes of objects — is about discovering new places and re-discovering known places. Upon discovering this cache, I thought about how small pieces of fun and adventure (or resistance, as some academics might define it) could be removed or adapted to serve state narratives. I tried to find a spot where an obvious fake-ness serves a memorial purpose; where the participant can ponder the constructs of history and landmarks. In a sense, one could think of the state as building a geocache of its own.
About the Location:
Our South always changes. It continuously extends towards the horizon, endlessly filled by sand dunes; the memories of individuals are consequently displaced and removed. What is left are ghostly apparitions within our minds, and a much newer visual physicality. At the chosen site, the state has constructed a replica of a natural structure historically used for wayfinding; an attempt to immortalise a bit of our national history, set against an ever-expanding shoreline.