White women outside a building with her arms spread and knees bent in an expressive pose.

A moment from Glitter Heart. VonalinaCakePhotography

It’s been a rich and busy couple of months. I’ve been incredibly grateful to have worked with a mix of wonderful people in different landscapes and environments, exploring my moving body, my writing and my creative process. I’m sharing these experiences here as a marker – of the importance of being fed creatively, and of a boost to my creative confidence.

In July I spent a week in Pembrokeshire with a beautiful project called Practising Places led by dancers/movement artists Kirstie Simson and Simon Whitehead. In the company of twelve other dancers we explored our connection to the earth, to the local landscape and to one another. The pace was slow and considered, the space was held with a deep sense of care and tenderness, and the experience was deeply nurturing and cathartic. We spoke about self-realisation and trusting that our movement will come from a place of authenticity. So many stories shared of pain, of bravery, of strength, with the calling for tenderness, touch, resting, noticing.

One exercise involved working with a partner in the woodland, selecting a place where we were happy to lie down. I chose a small beach next to a tiny stream that ran through the woods. Once there I closed my eyes and allowed my partner to cover me with natural materials foraged from the surrounding landscape.

A moment from ‘practising places’ covering fellow participant Jo Shapland


I learnt and experienced so much from the week:

  • Simultaneous wrapping and unravelling

  • Permission to touch.

  • Tears from the deep heart.

  • Feeling held. Feeling seen. Feeling heard.

  • Acceptance.

  • Deep listening with our bodies.

  • Understanding the depth you can travel from a simple starting point.

     

    Moving from a place of trust, a place of caring and a place of connection. Asking ‘How can the landscape become the score while I simultaneously become part of that landscape?’ The power of bodies leaving their imprint on the land, connecting with the earth, however temporary or transient that might be.

Black & white photograph of a white woman in the woodland, sticks and foliage covering her body.

Jo Shapland moving from the experience of being covered.

Around this time I was also participating in the project Glitter Heart. Conceived by live artist Liz Clarke this was an invitation to older women and non-binary artists using performance in their practice to explore live art and performance – making from the perspective of older bodies. Using material from Live Art Archive within Bristol’s Theatre Collection as a starting point we came together over two evenings and two full weekends. Exploring collaboration, creative process, witnessing and making in a supported, safe environment. It was one of the most impressively conceived engagement programmes I’ve seen. We were supported by two producer/facilitators, an access/evaluation/catering wonder woman, and a photographer and videographer. Coffee, pastries, samosas, fruit and amazing lunches were all provided at the sessions – and there was a materials budget!

Moments from Glitter Heart. VonalinaCakePhotography


This was a pretty phenomenal group of people with an overwhelming amount of experience between them, but it was a hugely generous space beautifully held in a way that everyone felt they had agency. Sadly I was unable to participate in the last weekend having tested positive for Covid. This meant I was not part of the sharing which made me very sad. But I’ve since worked with the wonderful project photographer, Vonalina Cake, who generously offered to work with me when I was well to capture the journey I’d been travelling through the project. A selection of these images and a tiny version of the zine I made a couple of months back on older women (featured in my June Journal piece) will be included with the group’s work in the Live Art Archive as an official acquisition. As part of this project I was able to explore some new ideas, re-visit some I’d been mulling over for some time, and most importantly spend time playing without any expectation on outcome.

Picking, peeling, wrapping and unravelling.

Connecting, weaving, exploring, listening.

Loose connections and possibilities.

Ephemera of words, of paper, string, creating a movement score.

Stills from my work in progress as part of Glitter Heart. VonalinaCakePhotography


Sandwiched between these rich experiences was the wonderful offer of a scholarship to attend a week-long writing workshop at Faber Publishing, Writing the Body, with the brilliant novelist Jessica Andrews. Yet again I felt I was thrown in the deep end, offered the place at very short notice, moving from the Pembrokeshire woodland to an intense Glitter Heart weekend in Bristol, then straight to a formal classroom at the fancy Faber Academy offices in Hatton Garden, London. Jessica had put a huge amount of work into structuring the week and referenced many other writers and artists whose work focused on the body. We also had a guest appearance by the writer K Patrick, the author of the award winning Mrs S.

The week was filled with so much rich information, inspiring readings of a range of writers’ work and diverse writing styles shared. I hit a point of major anxiety on the Thursday evening trying to select examples of my writing to ‘workshop’* with the group the following day. Coming on the last day of the week and having witnessed the quality of writing by the other participants I felt I had so little considered or finished work. But Jessica calmed me by inviting me to share fragments – whether works in progress, experimental writing or movement scores. This opened a door for me, allowing me to share work without the crippling weight of internal judgement.

There were eight novelists on the course, one poet and me. It was a fascinating, inspiring group. They were generous with both their feedback on my writing and their encouragement. This has given me the courage to return to an abandoned plan of producing a small self-published book about mothers and daughters, my journey with grief, ageing, vulnerability and strength, rage and joy.

I feel deeply privileged to have had these opportunities, all totally different and quite unique in themselves. I’m now fired up by these experiences, ready to explore new ways of working, to generate new work, and to have that work witnessed by others.

* A collaborative process where writers share their work with peers to receive constructive feedback and suggestions for improvement.

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