The creator (1989)

Megalith0113 eastdrn quadrants, Brian Fair 1989

The lack of instructions for how to use the stone circle in Sighthill did not mean that the stone circle was not used. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s Duncan and colleagues continued to come to the stone circle to test out alignments and check it was working as intended. The circle became a focus for pagan activities, and some said that it had been erected on a ley, or line of power. The stone circle remained hidden in plain sight, visible from the M8 to the south, although only due to the tips of the stones breaking the park horizon line. No signs pointed to the circle, and it became increasingly embroiled in casual interactions: dogs walked, cans of Tennent’s lager consumed, paint spilled. The stones became a blank canvas upon which graffiti could be sprayed. Wet cement was smeared on some of the stones even as they were settling in, baking decoration into the monument’s DNA from day 1. Then came the names of people and gangs. Chinese characters. Huge bawdy initials. Random splashes of paint. CREAM. JIMI HENDRIX. THE MINTS. A tin of white gloss was emptied out beside the stones, perhaps an accidental offering, forming an incoherent, inarticulate shape on the dying grass. In the 2000s the monument became a focal point for personal mourning, with ashes scattered in the circle and the central standing stone acting as a family memorial. Offerings were tied and left at the base of the stone as if this were a memorial garden. In short, the stone circle by dint of being in the heart of Sighthill had become a community resource, from gathering point for socialising, to a place to enhance wellbeing.