Labyrinth wanderings in Portland

On the nicest day of the year yet, I finally had a real opportunity to go visit the labyrinth at UNE here in Portland for the first time in mid-April.  No rush, no fuss, just early spring sunshine and a couple of good friends... and a woodchuck committee of one to herald our arrival!

I have seen hand-drawn labyrinths before, small on paper and large in sand, but there is something unique about the presence of a labyrinth built in stone, laid in to the earth before you.  It feels like a stone labyrinth manifests "labyrinth" in its truest form.

Walking a labyrinth is a unique experience too - fully grounding and at the same time intentionally disorienting.  When you stand before it, the center looks so close and within immediate reach from the entry point, but as soon as you set your feet on the path, you are required to suspend your portion of humanity's built-in impatience to complete something, and instead give yourself up wholly to the process itself.

It is a lesson that we as humans must relearn over and over again.  

We are always in a rush, always looking forward, looking for the next prize.  Perhaps a labyrinth is, as part of its intrinsic purpose, designed to thwart and disrupt that constant forward-looking momentum, and draw our attention inward, with the result of gifting us a wider view outward at the end.

We visiting three, one at a time, took a stone from the small pile near the entry and walked it to the center, leaving it there and pausing before turning around and repeating our path back outwards in reverse.

The participatory stones are a recent addition, part of a performance described in small booklets left in a holder near the maze.  [Activating the Labyrinth: A Performance for Two People in Three Parts by Elana Adler and Patricia Brace, performed on site Sept 6th, 2025]

It was good to see that the labyrinth continues to be of use to the community.  In fact, even if the event programs hadn't been present, we would have known the circuit was frequently used because of the way the ground was trodden in along the pathways between the stone rows, the unmistakable mark of the passage of many careful human feet over time.

This labyrinth, now approaching its 15th year, has certainly been in place long enough to give it a settled feel.  For those who have not encountered it in person, it lies in a piny glade behind the University of New England's Payson Gallery, on their Portland campus at 716 Stevens Avenue.  The site backs onto the edge of Evergreen Cemetery, which can be seen clearly through the wood fence running behind the campus.

Crafted of local fieldstones by Ethan Stebbins, a Maine based master stone carver and wood crafter, the labyrinth follows a 5-circuit medieval pattern.  Stebbins' current sculpture/sculptural furniture work is also gorgeous, and unites his stonework into wood furniture, with breathtaking results:  

ethanstebbins.com or on IG: @stebbinsdesign

Stebbins completed the site work over the course of a couple of months during the autumn of 2011.  

The field stones were hand-picked from a gravel pit, in the nearby town of Gray.  He worked from the giant crater there, where "they had a pile of like-sized stone, but I spent a lot of time picking through it." 

"It's granite, glacial till, and they were selected for the right size and shape (flat tops, enough depth to bury in the ground and be stable).  I mapped it all out to scale on graph paper before starting."

The labyrinth trenched and ready for its stones, 2011 [Perennial Stone]

Stebbins told me in an email that he trenched the whole thing out by hand, "Just me and a shovel and pick!"  He worked alone, and each stone piece was set by hand, with a careful eye that is evident in the still-beautiful patterns found in the stone rows today, fifteen years later.

He laughs about the amount of labor now, and how "I never allotted myself enough time or got paid enough back then!  [...] I was younger and dumber.  But it was a fun creative challenge at the time and I was always looking for the more interesting artistic jobs."  Regardless, the results are gorgeous still.

Stebbins may have done the hard digging and lugging himself, but the project did have collaborators: "I worked with Anne Zill, who was the gallery director at the time, also Joe Wolfberg who taught at UNE was very involved."  I will be reaching out to these two to find out their views of the labyrinth, so please do look for more updates here in the future.

The labyrinth in mid-April 2026. [M.Y. Souliere]

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Next up will most likely be another Portland labyrinth -- the one on the front lawn of St. Luke's church on State Street, just a short stroll from the Green Hand Bookshop! (thanks again, Rudi!!)
 

Local low-riding woodchuck processional escort.

Labyrinth Path update!

 Hi all -- it was refreshing to reboot posts on this blog last month.  I am continuing on, even if some posts are updates/notes rather than full-blown articles.  It will be good to restore some continuity here.

 With that in mind... an update!

 Since the first labyrinth post, I have heard of at least one other local labyrinth here in the Portland area:

-- on the front lawn of St. Luke's church on State Street, just a short stroll from the Green Hand Bookshop! (thanks Rudi!!)

I've also begun chatting with Ethan Stebbins, who installed the stone labyrinth behind UNE's Payson Gallery, and hope to visit that site soon and report back.  His current work is gorgeous, and unites his stonework into wood furniture, with breathtaking results:  

ethanstebbins.com or on IG: @stebbinsdesign

As the cold settles into the ground, and brittle sounds snap back as we step on ice and snow on our way home through the darkening winter world, I hope you all have cozy corners to curl up in and good friends to spend time with.  Here's to shining our light into all the corners of our overlapping worlds as we step forward each day.

 

Wabi Sabi Console by Ethan Stebbins (2025; black walnut, granite)

Labyrinths in Maine - a starting point

After taking a half-day workshop about labyrinths this spring, these intriguing designs have been flitting about the corners of my mind.  I’d heard of various labyrinths in Maine, including at least one in Portland.  This of course led me to wonder how many there are, what they are like, and whether Maine’s history of relationships with labyrinths extends further back, before the modern resurgence.   

And then it occurred to me that others of you might like to know the answers to these questions, or you might just be curious about labyrinths in general, so… here you go!  The first fresh Strange Maine blog article in a while, and hopefully the start of a series.  Hope you enjoy!  

How many labyrinths does Maine have? The Labyrinth Locator (labyrinthlocator.org), an excellent resource, lists a total of fifty-one labyrinths in Maine. 

As with everything else in Maine, they run the gamut in their types, purposes, and accessibility. 

Thirty-one are listed as public labyrinths. Thirteen are listed as private labyrinths. 

In between these lie seven labyrinths available by appointment. 

Their locations are divided almost equally between public places and private property.  

Many are on the grounds of schools or churches. 

Most are outdoors, but six live indoors, out of reach of the weather.   

One labyrinth is temporary, and five are portable (yes, there are portable labyrinths!). 

Two labyrinths on the registry are located in Portland, where I live.  The first, at Trinity Episcopal Church, is near Woodfords Corner at 580 Forest Avenue.  One of the “portable” labyrinths, this one is modeled after the labyrinth in the Chartres cathedral and painted on canvas, and carefully spread and lit for occasional Labyrinth Walks, when the church opens the doors to its Lincoln Hall for a couple of hours, allowing people to walk and meditate in a way that is uniquely personal and universal at the same time.  NOTE: The last Labyrinth Walk posted to their Facebook page was on March 2nd, 2025, and according to the parish, they are on hiatus except for special occasions like the Christmas season, and Lent.  Their website is trinitychurchportland.org 

The second, not far away, resides on the grounds of the University of New England, at 716 Stevens Avenue, backing onto the edge of Evergreen Cemetery behind the UNE Art Gallery.  Crafted of local fieldstones by Ethan Stebbins, a Maine based master stone carver and wood crafter, it is a 5-circuit medieval pattern.  

One is almost required to assume there are other Maine labyrinths not listed here officially, living their mazy lives off the grid or unknown to most of the public.  It goes with the territory here. 

Does Maine have a long history of labyrinths?  At first glance, there is little to see.  In the 1800s and 1900s, it was a common word appearing in the prose of local newspapers, though most often linked with conversational styles, politics, ancient foreign ruins, or mythology.  It is not until around the year 2000 when articles start appearing about Mainers building their own labyrinths.  However, I will continue to seek the entrance to this puzzle, and let you know if I find more!  If past experiences are anything to go by, eventually something interesting will turn up.  

If you are interested in labyrinths, you may find some kindred spirits at the Labyrinth Society (labyrinthsociety.org), among the most visible participants of the global labyrinth culture. 

 

 

On a personal note: 

 I started writing and researching this article in the hopes I could return to a regular practice of adding brief stories to my blog.  I quickly realized that the labyrinths of Maine (as with so many other Maine things!) are likely a larger journey, so I am going to use this post as a starting point, close to home, and work my way out from there.  This way I can give attention to segments of Maine’s labyrinths, adding posts as I am able to visit them, or speak with folks involved with them – without finding myself immediately bogged down in yet another massive project that takes over a decade to complete [insert wild hilarity here]. 

The last 5 years have been rough, both personally for myself and my family, and financially for my business, the Green Hand Bookshop.  This has often limited my free time and energy, as major real-world priorities took over, and the also-important but fun stuff, like my Maine historic research, was required more often than not to be set aside.  In an attempt to mitigate this creative drought, I did squeeze in many efforts for a friend, things which aligned with my own Maine interests but fed their pursuits.  It turned out this was a misjudgment on my part, rooted in the vulnerable path of some of my darkest Covid-era days, and undermined my own resources extensively -- and after five years they cut and ran, rewards grasped tightly in hand. 

Through turmoil, tedium and grief, I have continued working on a number of larger in-depth research projects, so do not fear – things Strange Maine are still afoot, if in the shadows and underground.  It’s one of the things that has kept me going through it all.   

I look forward to the time soon when my obligations lift enough that I will fly free of those shadows and return to threading my roots deep within the forests and coastline of Maine.  See you there, if not before!