round? Well yes it does I suppose. Food, heat, light,time to write. All the essentials. I send out a lot of invoices for writing work, and it still gives me a bit of a thrill (people pay me to write ). Today I sent out a slightly different one – to my local bookseller, The Ironbridge Bookshop. They stocked my poetry zine last year and have just sold the last one. Now I’m not going to be retiring to the Bahamas (after commission and the graphic designer’s fee I could just about get a day out in Brum) but this does feel special. There’s something about the fact that someone has walked into a shop, seen my work and liked it enough exchange some of their hard earned cash in order to take it home. It feels like validation I suppose – as though there is a market for my words, and that it genuinely connects with people.
I’ve spent my earnings on two more courses. One is with Spelt magazine all about how to submit to magazines, which I’m obviously doing but I feel I could perhaps do better, with a bit of practical help. The other is a workshop which sounds right up my street both in terms of method and subject. I’m not great in a classroom situation (thank you repressive girls’ school) and struggle to contribute but this workshop seems like it might be just the right balance of contribution and contemplation. My experience on my York CLL course has really shown me how much I learn from a workshop style, and how it builds on everything I’ve read about poetry in the last couple of years.
Things feel good at the moment. I mean obviously everything is terrible, but this tiny poetry aspect of my life feels like a refuge, rather than yet another point of worry. And refuge is, after all, one of the reasons I write.
You can buy Yes to Tigers from Ironbridge Bookshop, or direct from me – just email kathrynannawrites@gmail.com x
I mean – how is that possible? This month has meandered away under a cover of cloud.
The end of summer usually makes me sad – warm weather means less pain for one thing. I miss eating outside, watching the swifts and martins overhead and the general floatiness that comes from spending every day in long skirts and flip-flops. Autumn is beautiful, of course, and winter is pleasingly austere but summer ? Summer is for smiling and pretending I live somewhere altogether less stoical.
I feel different this year. Perhaps it’s because much of summer has been taken up with house renovation, perhaps it’s the insistent gloom of the skies over Coalbrookdale. Perhaps it was that glorious week on the Welsh coast. I don’t feel as bereft and wary of winter as usual.
It could also be because I feel I’ve regained some equilibrium. I’m writing more mindfully, rather than scribbling from a turbulent mind, which inevitably means work that is more poem than outpouring – ultimately, work that is better.
I’ve also been more proactive with submissions – looking at my Trello page and seeing I’ve only three pieces in circulation was a bit of a shock . I spent some time reviewing, redrafting and refining some of the poems I’ve made this year as well as seeking homes for them. Always nerve racking. Always exciting. Always full of “why can’t I just be happy with gardening instead of putting myself through this”.
Camping at Caerfai seems like years ago
Good news too – I’ve had a piece of flash accepted for publication by Sledgehammer Lit. who are fast feeling like my poetry-spirit home. I love what they publish and I love that they seem to like my stuff. This piece is one that I love and that I’ve found hard to home – so I’m thrilled it’s going to be part a journal I admire. A couple of poems were declined – but that’s how it goes.
New projects are brewing too – a couple of gentle collaborations with friends whose art I adore may be coming to fruition in the not too distant future.
I seem to have a new direction in terms of how I want to write. My aim is to set aside a week – autumn I hope – and do my own mini writing retreat. I’ll have to stay at home obviously, but I’m going to try to minimise other work and manage domestic duties so I can focus on reading,writing and exploring new directions. Or I might go and make furniture in the Scottish Highlands like Cate le Bon.
So summer is closing, with a whimper or a bang remains to be seen, but I feel positive about my work, and positive about where I’m going – slowly, as ever, but I’m moving. And that’s what counts.
If you’d like to comission a poem, for yourself or as a gift then you can ! I love to create bespoke poetry – it’s a privilege to be asked to express people’s love and care for each other. If you’d like to find out more just click on Poems from the Hare at the top of the page, or send me a message kathrynannawrites@gmail.com
Apparently, my blog is supposed to be a round up of all the things I’m expert on – I have to be a leading voice in my field. I have no idea what that means. I’m not an expert on being me, never mind anything else. To be fair, I’ve never really looked at what my blog should be. It’s always been a kind of diary I suppose; a way of reconnecting with the world.
I seem to be using that phrase a lot lately and I suppose my default state is somewhat disconnected – that sense of being other. I’ve come to love the fact that I don’t really fit (except when I collide with a bunch of people who seem to resent it) and understand that it’s what makes me me. That doesn’t mean I don’t like to feel connected with others though, I just find it a bit more difficult at first. For someone who loves people I really do struggle to feel quite safe with them.
image by @lukeporter.co.uk
Zine on the horizon?
Connections are happening though and I seem to be venturing towards putting together something cool from my Secret Severn work. Amanda Hillier, one of the artists I worked with on the project has approached me about putting together a zine and getting it on sale in funky little shops. I’ve always been sniffy about self-publishing, but this idea seems to really work with the collaborative nature of the project. I’d far rather these poems be in a book with a real handmade, multi-level feel, that showcases the art that inspired the words.
Our beautiful cooling towers in their final summer
New Build
In January Words for the Wild put out a call for poetry around the theme New Build – this fitted perfectly with work I had been doing for a local project (postponed due to Covid-19) and tied with a beautiful piece of work by two local artists who go by the name Both in Stitches. The poem was published on Words for the Wild on Sunday. It’s a piece that I love – it’s got bullfinches, cooling towers …. what more could anyone want? If you fancy reading, you’ll get the best visual effect on a laptop.
The original art work Your shadow at morning was the spark I needed I even have my own tiny version on my desk
Time squeeze
My grand intentions for this week have been put on the back burner in the name of commerce. I’ve written about all sorts from theme parks to seat belt law, and much more in between. I’m hoping to spend this weekend on a mini writing retreat, by which I mean no household jobs or gardening, just writing – I’ve got a bunch of easy meals lined up so I’m hoping to be able to spend the bulk of Saturday and Sunday working on a big submission, a fantastic prize (that I won’t win but I have to try) and a couple of Secret Severn stragglers. Next week I’m determined to get down to some self-study – I’ve a copy of The Craft from Nine Arches that I’m itching to get into plus I need to spend much more time reading – between paid work, domestic duties and limited energy levels, time is squeezed like a lemon, leaving me with just pips.
So, there we are – not an expert view of the world just me trying to make sense of everything while batting away the worries that crowd in through every minute of the day. Tiny connections make these things feel a little better.
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I’ve admired Maggie’s paintings for several years, so I was really excited about the chance to spend some tine with her. Maggie’s studio is unassuming and bursting with beautiful work. She showed me her huge range of styles, moving from vivid, almost abstract pieces to delicately detailed country scenes and charming festive illustrations.
Two of my favourite pieces are in this downstairs gallery; a piece based on her experience of a choral rendition of A.E. Housman’s Blue Remembered Hills, and Shadows of Moon a swirling image of the hills. Both of these pictures make me feel as though I’m travelling through the landscape, and give a sense of there being a world waiting to be discovered beyond the frame.
Shadows of the Moon
Maggie explained that her career began as a ceramicist and she has produced many ceramic murals all over the country, including the fabulous blue dragon that welcomes visitors to the Dragon Theatre in Barmouth. Working with clay takes it’s toll however, and Maggie now works with oils, as well as creating detailed line drawings and illustrations.
One of Maggie’s many ceramic murals
I also spent a little time in Maggie’s beautiful garden, which is a paradise for bees and nature as well as humans. She explained that she loves to be here in the early hours – that secret time of day before people are up and about.
Next, it’s up the stairs to Maggie’s work room, past a mural of geraniums that covers a patch of less than perfect plaster. There’s a sense of energetic chaos in the room, enhanced by a soundtrack of Mahler, which Maggie described as mirroring her work with its combination of movement and precision. Maggie showed me some of her most recent pieces, based on a friend’s memory of seeing swans in Prague. I really fell for these, and Maggie was kind enough to let me spend some time just sitting with the paintings.
Newly completed Swans in Prague.
There’s a mystical, magical quality to Maggie’s work and it’s this that I find captivating. As we talked about various pieces, she explained how they evolve and develop, and create their own dialogue. This chimed with me as a writer – creating a poem or story is very much about allowing the words to emerge, and allowing the poem to breathe itself into life. There is an idea and an inspiration, but there also has to be a sense of trusting the work itself.
You’ll be able to see Maggie’s work as part of Secret Severn
Art Trail in the Footprint gallery at Fusion, where she will also be Artist in
Residence, no doubt wearing a marvellous hat. To find out more about her work,
visit http://www.maggie-humphry.co.uk/
Do you know how sea urchins got their name? No? Well here goes. Hedgehogs used to be called urchins, sea urchins are spiny (like hedgehogs) and live in the sea (unlike hedgehogs), so the logical name is, of course sea urchins. Why am I telling you this? Because it’s a cheery fact, and it was part of my research for my fifth Secret Severn visit, to Emma Brownlow, a ceramicist based in St Georges.
Emma explained her skill as a ceramicist is about actualizing the image she has of the end sculpture. Part of the joy for her is puzzling out how to make this visualisation into reality, and her work shows an incredible range. She showed me her Shrewsbury pot, a homage to her home town, resplendent with images of the duck race, timbered buildings and the much maligned market clock tower. It’s a three dimensional collection of memories that brings the town to life.
Emma showed me the first piece from her newest project, a series of elemental pots exploring the power and complexity of the earth.
Emma’s makers mark is on every piece she producesA finished sea urchin
I’ve been a bit in love with Emma’s sea urchin sculptures
since I first saw she them, and I loved having chance to see one being made. They
start life as a lump of clay, which is shaped into an urchin-like sphere. They’re
then marked out with what I grandly called dowel (Emma later told me it was a
kebab stick – ceramicists are experts at finding just the right tool for the
job). Spaces for spines are marked out, and texture is added with slip. The
whole process is deceptively quick.
After their first firing, the urchins are ready to be glazed.
Emma uses a combination of colours and takes care to show a hint of the natural
bisque, so there’s an echo of shell shining through.
We talked about the ancient nature of pottery, and I was
taken by the inherently environmentally responsible nature of the process. Emma
showed me how any old clay is reused. It’s smashed up, rehydrated in an old
pillow case, and then wedged, an exhausting type of kneading, so it can be used
again.
Wedging the clay
This was another different visit for me, and it was great to see each aspect of the process, and see the preparation too. The thing that shone out was the amount of love that goes into Emma’s work. She spoke of wanting to honour the sea urchin, and this really comes through, and sits well with the sense of this being an ancient craft.
I came away with a strong sense of what I want my finished poem to look like – it’s going to take a little while to emerge I think, but it’s been yet another level of inspiration for my work.
As ever, please, please help me get the most from social
media. Please like the posts on my pages, add a comment, and share them. It
helps more people see what I’m doing, and helps boost support for my work. Thank
you all so much!
You can find out more about Emma’s work here https://www.facebook.com/Emma-Brownlow-Ceramics-714814132207188/ and see her beautiful sculptures at the Footprint Gallery in Jackfield as part of the Secret Severn Art Trail which runs from 20th to 29th September.
I’m fizzing with ideas after spending the morning with Jayne Humphreys a.k.a. The Strolling Stitcher. I spent my time surrounded by fragments of memories, which Jayne transforms into beautiful story boxes, wearable art and intriguing pictures, and left with a host of thought and images to put into words.
Jayne’s workroom
Jayne is influenced by her Grandmother, and by her environment, especially the River Severn. She explains more below.
Jayne is passionate about breathing new life into precious things, and many of her pieces feature things like safety pins and curtain hooks from her late grandmother’s sewing boxes. I asked her how she felt about giving away these things, and she responded gently that she like the idea of passing them on. There’s an thread of continuity though Jayne’s work, of harnessing and sharing the life of things that would otherwise go unnoticed.
One of the most common images in Jayne’s work are swans,which have been a major inspiration to her since she moved to Ironbridge three years ago. There’s an anthropomorphic quality that is enhanced by the story boxes she creates for each piece. Continuing the practical element, Jayne’s swans double as brooches and the story boxes are designed to display jewellery.
A story box in progress
If you look closely at Jayne’s work you’ll see fragments of journals or scraps of receipts. One of the most fascinating things she’s found is a notebook acting as a photo journal from the WWII campaign in Egypt. Looking up at her window I see a flock of house martins made from the deeds of her old house, and inspired by visits to the Squatter’s Cottage at Blists’ Hill. Reinventing finds that would otherwise be lost in a drawer or attic brings a new aspect to make do and mend, and brings a real depth to Jayne’s work.
A quote from the film Cold Mountain is an integral part of this piece.
As befits a collector, Jayne is constantly gathering inspiration for her work. She loves exploring flea markets, which are brimming with fabrics and oddities that are crying out to be part of her creations, and she’s also inspired by the Back to Back houses in Birmingham. Jayne showed me books, chatted about films that have had an impact, and we talked about her travels, most recently to Romania. One of the most fascinating influences comes from the work of Maud Lewis, a folk artist from Canada, famous for her painted house which has been reconstructed in Nova Scotia art gallery.
On a deeper level, Jayne is inspired by visits to the Foundling Museum in London, which tells the story of the first hospital for foundling children. Jayne talked about the tokens mothers left so their babies could be identified, if circumstances changed and they were able to reclaim them. This fits well with Jayne’s eye for rescuing scraps of life that would otherwise be lost in a drawer.
Visiting Jayne has given me yet another aspect to my writing as poet in residence for the Secret Severn art trail. I’ve connected with Jayne’s work on a more personal level, and it’s tapped into my tendency to be fascinated by the things that get thrown away (I sound like a womble don’t I?). The swans in particular have sparked my imagination, and the poems that are bubbling up have a feel of a dark fairy tale journey. I was particularly inspired by the piece above, a swan with a pocket for a poem. I’ve named her, and I’m enjoying exploring her journeys. It makes for exciting writing, and has given me a new swathe of inspiration.
You’ll be able to see Jayne demonstrating her skills alongside Caris Jackson in the Art Zone in Dale End park during the Festival of Imagination on 21st September, and her work will be on display as part of the Secret Severn Art Trail from 20th-29th September.
Thank you as ever for reading. If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read, please share on social media, like any posts you see, and give me quick comment on Facebook – it all helps beat those pesky algorithms.
Kathryn Anna Marshall 