Rooted
The Stickiness of Place
Hello, and welcome.
Thank you again for your kind comments in response to last week’s post; I’m thrilled that you’re enjoying reading these emails. If FLOW is new to you and you’d like to catch up with recent posts there’s a home page that lets you do so easily.
I’m going to try something a little different this week. I’m now one month into writing in this enjoyable format, but I am also keen to maintain my blog. So this week I have some shorter seasonal observations to share with you here and a link to a new piece of writing on my website about creative connection to place.
Fragments from the week
Sunday
Burnt wood hangs on the air; even the clouds have the appearance of smoke this morning. The light is flat. There are hints of autumn wherever you look: the gean (wild cherry) are turning umber through scarlet, there are purple sprigs amid otherwise green blueberry, and rowan saplings are sporting red Mohicans amid the dark green pines.
What did I forget today? Smidge. What do midges like? Short hair and exposed ears on stationary photographers. For once it’s a relief to get back out of the wood onto the track and to stand in the breeze. Watch fat sheep graze. Feel the air move.
For the second time, I’m scolded by a wren. I see it bobbing up and down on a log, full of attitude.
On the road, fat pigeons fly flustered from elderberry bushes. Starlings chatter on wires. House martins have yet to leave. Machines still harvest, leaving gleanings of grain for crows and rooks to argue over.
Wednesday
The morning is calm and clear, a touch of frost on the grass. It’s hard to believe there’s a storm coming. Silence before Agnes.
I go out for a walk and nearly leave my camera at home. I promise myself - this time walk, just walk. But the birch are yellowing, the light is clean and precious with the clarity of a winter promised. So five minutes into my walk, I’m already waylaid. I take a few pictures of the birch from the path and decide I really must go and have a look at them from the other side along the edge of the wood. So much for just a walk, but the light is lovely, and the grass and the rushes are slick with water and shiny. It really is magical.
The patterns of shifting colour on the birch trees makes me think of salt and pepper. No - mustard and cress is a better description of the speckled effect.
Rooted: Exploring Creative Connection to Place
At the beginning of the month, a short getaway prompted me reflect on the evolution of my practice and how my focus has shifted away from travel to appreciating the beauty and inspiration found close to home.
If you're curious to learn more about my creative process and the impact of place, click the link below to read ‘Rooted: A Creative Connection to Place’ in full:
I hope this glimpse awakens your curiosity and encourages you to explore your own creative connection to place. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences in the comments section - I would love to hear from you.
With best wishes,
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I'm really enjoying your posts Michaela, and can relate to the way you used mixed media in your work. I am getting so many ideas about ways in which I can combine some of my old ink prints with my photography, and I also love water and forests, so thank you.
" my focus has shifted away from travel to appreciating the beauty and inspiration found close to home"....... how this resonated with me. I now appreciate what nature has to offer on my doorstep and am grateful.