writing

The North Sea

| Sheree

Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?

Longsands, Tynemouth

I’m grateful to live by the sea.

After a traumatic time in my life, I advocated for myself. I needed time to heal and forget. To be soothed and held.

So I proposed to my family a move to the coast was needed. That’s nearly 15 years ago now. And maybe that move has been thrown back in my face at different times by certain people, I’ve never regretted the move.

Being able to see the sea daily, even if there are times I forgot and neglect this ritual, has been beneficial for my soul, n never mind my body and mind. My soul.

The sea is my soul food. And there have been many times, many times in the past, now and probably to come when I will need this soul food more than I really know/feel.

And she’s there for me. The North Sea is on my doorstep. And I greet her with open arms. She is never the same sea twice and I take my direction/ way of being from her so that I’m living my life within the expansive realms of self-expression rather than within the confines offered to me via this so-called society/ culture.

The sea supports me, being me. And I give thanks to her for that. But I also appreciate her beauty and power and way of being which is on her own terms. you’ve got to love that!

Using Today As A Catch -Up Day

| Sheree
Amber Royal Serena Estelle Musgrove Mason Melgram, Nana Amber, circa 1955

It’s what I do right. When I’ve been absent from the blogs, websites and zines, absent from the public realm, then I take a day out of my schedule to catch -up with them all. To post something, to let my readers know that I’m still here. Still alive and kicking. When I get my bum in the seat and force myself to write, something comes along to fill in the blank spaces. And today is no exception.

I’ve been dancing around cyberspace, updating my spaces with words and reflections and memories.

So for now I’d just like to point you in the direction of Studio Notes over on Substack where I’ve just posted about my nana Amber. For some reason, she’s been on my mind this week, and there at the smell of brown bread from the kitchen she comes back fully to life. Check it out and if you feel inclined, add a comment or even become a subscriber, free or paid.

All is welcome.

Studio Notes @ Substack

| Sheree

I’ve just spent the last half hour or so crafting this month’s Studio Note over on Substack.

I’m still not to grips with it all over there. Still features I haven’t explored yet but I’m enjoying the ease of it all. Simple.

Go check it out and see what I’ve been musing about in the heat/ heart of summer, summer, summer.

Poem – An Act of Faith

| Sheree

Isn’t that what a poem is?
A lantern glowing in the dark.

Elizabeth Acevedo

Just as dusk is falling, I walk. Affected by the elements,

head in pain from the wind, I force myself out into the dim light,

believing moving my legs will strengthen my heart.

Motherly care, higher forces in radio silence. Walk

The moon pale blue and silent. But still there. Always.

Like the ancestors, guiding. Allowing me to find my own way. Tonight.

To falter, make mistakes and loop back. Remaining open.

Trusting these windows of silence as still inspiration.

Hope holds optimism. Optimism holds joy.

The touch of joy, fine-grained dark jasper, I search for along the path.

This spiritual path of putting pen to page, again and again.

Like one foot in front of another. An act of faith.

Confessional POetry Course

| Sheree

(Speaking about Robert Lowell’s poetry) “Lowell removes the mask. His speaker is unequivocally himself, and it is hard not to think of Life Studies as a series of personal confidences, rather shameful, that one is honor-bound not to reveal.”

M. L. Rosenthal’s article “Poetry as Confession.”

I’m taking a four week confessional poetry course with midnight & indigo. Founded in 2018, midnight & indigo is a small publisher and literary journal that provides a space for Black women writers to share their narratives with the world.

Tw weeks in and I’m loving the course, Tell Me Something Real: How to Write Confessional Poetry. Not only is the tutor, Schyler Butler knowledgeable, and thorough providing great examples for poetry within this genre all from Black women, but the group of writers signed up for the course bring it every week with their insight and feelings around each poem we read and discuss.

And then we get to trial out what we’ve learnt through these close writings within our own writing, as the sessions finishes with time to write a first draft of a poem and then share it with the group. I’m enjoying what I’m coming up with after being inspired. Because in all honesty, from time I’ve been a confessional poet but have never smashed the term on it.

Confessional poetry in essence can be distilled to 4 main components.

  1. Be of an intimate subject matter.
  2. Use the first person.
  3. Be autobiographical or seen/ appear to be.
  4. Use skilled craftsmanship.

I’m working on a new body of work now. So still in the draft stage but I’ll share a poem from time here, as evidence of my appreciation and dance with this form of poetry.

White Women

Within my family, there are white women.
White women who married black men. I forget,
neglect the fact that their blood flows through mine.

Trace the past, a sea of faceless white is mine.
The black men forefront, a mist of women
behind. Their names, I don’t know or forget.

They are the enigma, shadows. Forget
the cleaning and cooking, their duty and mine,
they went against the grain, steadfast women.

In the corner of the frame, you white women
are not forgotten. Your spirit is mine.

Family Album, 2011

Spiral(Poetry for May)

| Sheree

To spiral is a magical course. One that we can journey on forever.

In the process of becoming whole.

Reconnecting with self, is a circling within. To listen.

Hear your inner wisdom, allow this voice to spiral outwards.

Show up in all your fucked up glory. Access how you are received.

Reflect on the experiences by spiralling back inside.

Turn each event and memory like amber up into the light.

See each crevice, each scar, each deep rooted lesson.

Regroup, patch up and offer yourself grace as you spiral back out into the world.

Rearmoured and ready to reconnect with the world on your own terms.

Spiralling in and out is the plan for change. Is a sign of love.

May (SEA)Poetry

| Sheree

The North Sea, Whitley Bay, North Tyneside, 2023

I wrote a little something after my walk yesterday in the blustery wind/ sea spray of Whitley Bay.

cold seeps into my teeth

grin in the wind/ whistles

through my ears. lost. pain/

with the tide out/ boulders revealed

i prefer the bay full/ full to the brim

like my love for the seas/ me /and you/

Reading Poetry (ish)

| Sheree

As I mentioned earlier in the month, reading and writing/ writing and reading go hand in hand. As I’ve tasked myself with a poem a day this month, I’ve also tasked myself with reading poetry and wider as it all feeds into the creative process.

Dal Kular, a dear friend and awesome imagineer, brought Foluke Taylor and their writings to my attention. I’ve been taken by Foluke’s writing around creativity and repetition so when Dal mentioned the book, Unruly Therapeutic, I knew I had to pick this book up and read it. And I’m so glad I have done just that ( well still reading it in fact!).

This is a hybrid, break down the structures kind of book in terms of how it’s written but also how it centres the Black woman’s experience. It’s music to my ears on so many levels. More so in being real, and allowing the thoughts and concepts presented to meander. To double back and repeat. There’s even a music playlist at the end go each chapter as an indication of what Foluke was listening to while the book was under construction.

I’ll return here with a review of length, but for now I just wanted to mark the reading of this text and a recommendation to get out and buy your own copy, as I’m not lending mine out!

The Motherhood Essay

| Sheree

I think I heard back about my abstract being accepted for Demeter Press collection The Mother Wave: Matricentric Feminism as Theory, Activism, and Practice back in November 2022. And really haven’t engaged much with it since.

I submitted it on a whim off the back of the afterglow from BALTIC exhibition A Country Journal of a Blackwoman( Northumberland). 

I wanted to continue this work as I felt as if I’d just got started mining this seam. But really I feel as if I’ve always been working with memory, family and archives throughout my whole creative journey. There’s always been a desire to fill in the gaps around my origins. Who be my people? Where did we come from? What makes us tick?

So I submitted the abstract changing Blackwoman to Black Mothers, as that’s what I’ve been exploring my matrilineage, our bodies with/in nature and healing.  I just wanted to continue this through a different medium; before ‘art’ now ‘word’. But really all hybrid.

I’ve surrendered more and more with each creation, that to fully express myself, my identity, ideas, passions and preoccupations, hybridity, multidisciplinary creations/ renditions are a truer take on things. More of a fuller picture/ form is rendered. 

My first draft of the essay has to be submitted by May 1st ( now changed to 10 June!). As it happens, I’ve been away house/ dog sitting for the first two weeks of April, alone in Buckinghamshire. Prime time I thought to dive deep and immerse myself in the writing process.

I’ve been using my Patreon supporters as accountability buddies, these past few weeks while working on this essay. I’ve been updating them on progress reports along the away. With my time coming to an end down here, I thought I’d use what time I have left to reflect on the process and progress so far. And I’m sharing the post with you here.

I’m using this reflection as a place marker for progress as well as evidence for when I go home and think I could have done more, or start to beat myself up about wasting time. At least I’ll have this reflection to fall back on.