Most nights I wake around 3 am, and I usually sit up, open my iPad, and write some Love Letters. Here is an extract: 04:12 Wednesday 25th November I wake, sit up, and I yawn, close my eyes, move my head from side to side, and I’m Horse. My horse. I can be in touch […]
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Watercolours in a book with Mat Osmond, and Torn Contemporary (for works on paper)
Here is the link to a just-published book, with writing by Mat Osmond made in response to the work of Meinrad Craighead. My watercolours from 2019 feature throughout. The Black Madonna’s Song These works on paper will soon be available from Torn Contemporary, which will launch soon.
Dartmoor: a few days’ retreat in a cabin: some images and reflections. October 2020.
Dartmoor. Teign valley. I dream of eating the jellied milk from the spirit foal’s belly. It is set in the stomach to the form of the digesting vessel. I ask: Do my words set in my mouth? Do they find a form to congeal into? Are they jelly, a frogspawn of phrases, of eggs black […]
going to the wild; a little more writing.
I recently posted a request for a few days in a hut in the wild for a bit of time away. My very good friends and connections have given me leads which I hope will lead to days away soon, on Bodmin Moor, Dartmoor, and more locally at Prussia cove. I’ve three books on the […]
A man who melts
Awake in the night again, before dawn. My lover comes, the man of butter, the man who is golden, whose fluids run over my body, who settles in all the creases of my skin, who anoints me before the morning. He tells me of his time in the mountains, of the golden cow who made […]
Packing the wound; a garden I’ve been in love with; the colour yellow; and a love letter to painting
…you pack me away into the hollow of a tree, the hull of a rudderless boat, and cast me adrift; you thread me into a blade of grass with your needle; I sew. My breasts became two little animals before I slept. They were longing to be touched, to be stroked, and also to suckle. […]
Venus on horseback
Venus on horseback It’s two o’clock in the morning. Awake again with the currents swirling in my belly, a dream called me to waken, a self portrait as Venus: oranges and yellows shining, strips of colour like light through trees, sunshine through water as I swim, my arms golden – young again – pulling me […]
Night writing
31.07.20 I’m awake again in the night, before dawn. Sea scent surrounds me. I’m sliding within, and riding upon, a snake or a serpent. My face grows into and is behind the face of the snake. Time happens twice, watches itself, echoes with child, gives suck. I am clothed in white, a shimmering powdery luminescence […]
Notes on love and sacrifice
After swimming, my son rescued a bee from my bedroom. I find sugar crystals; he rolls his finger in them – the sugar sticks. The bee is pale, fading, and exhausted. Then she finds the sugar, and a long, strong, silvery tongue begins to feed. Her tongue goes backwards and forwards, sucking up the sugar […]
Some more writing from Italy and home, 2006/2020
Here’s a little more writing, a first draft from 2006, reflecting time spent near Montevarchi, in Tuscany, and some recent exploratory notes from home. Walk to Croce de Pratomagno 1,591m All day. Starting at Gorgito then through the silent forest where every sound seemed to be muffled. I heard wolves howling in the distance, filling […]