'There’s a building called the Tower of Winds in the ancient marketplace in Athens. Each of its eight sides is dedicated to the wind from a different direction; Skiron, Boreas and so forth. Once it had a wind-vane on top; it was an early weather station. The winds are universal but as the Tower suggests, they manifest uniquely and intimately as part of place. And then there’s the human culture wind calls up across languages and societies. The Greek word for wind is aerides, the basis of both ‘air’ and ‘to breathe’. Wind is a symbol for the spirit, the soul, but also it’s historically inseparable from sailing and thus trade, cultural exchange, colonisation. That only accounts for the direction, the velocity, perhaps the ferocity. The rushing air also gathers up multiple large, small and microscopic lives, it transposes and recomposes dust and fumes and moisture. Sparking hope and fear, symbolising change, the wind is specific to localities and seasons. Then it’s personalised, given names such as the mistral, Perth Doctor, Southerly Buster.'
(Introduction)