the conversations I get to be part of.
the person who brings me flowers
the groups of creatives who give me support
the light on the waves
the seafoam around my feet
the cold wind that reminds me to feel again
Today I am grateful for …
black bodies in nature
May (Blossom) Poetry – Empathising with Blossom
I see you, white blossom.
I feel your softness and gentle caress-petals.
Hanging, heavy bell-like clusters of white,
delicate to the touch as well as to the nose.
I taste your thirst for life, to cling on,
as your prime is short-lived, ephemeral
but no less spectacular. Thank you,
sweet one, for blazing white-bright
in my line of sight, that my heartswells
with awe and wonder and love. For you.
For this world. For we share this glory
through our true nature.
Time to Water Your Roots: The Rise Up Rooted Wellness Symposium
The Natural world – from the heavens to our gardens – has so much to give and to teach us
I just manage to get this note in under the wire as today still is in the month of April. But this month has been a busy one. If not being away dog and house sitting then one of birthday celebrations, as both my babies were born in April. I have also been trying to crack on with a commissioned essay, and managed to present something decent at the final event in connection to my exhibition at the BALTIC.
Coming out of my hibernation into a full on month has had its trials and tribulations. But I know what has kept me on the straight and narrow and mostly full of joy has been my connection with nature.
I missed the sea at the beginning of the month, because I was land locked. But this was an ideal time to appreciate the blossom. Cherry blossom, apple blossom, plum blossom, pear.
I’ve always loved on blossom. The blousy pink and white blooms, just fill me with joy and gratitude. I’ve been putting myself in the path of beauty as Cheryl Strayed would argue. Then once I returned back to the North-East it was time to reacclimatise with the sea after an almost three week break. And it was painful. But I needed to get back in, to get close with her, and remind myself that I am alive. And this life is a gift. The sea, along with nature as a whole, is my medicine. And I feel it deep when I am not taking my medicine, through choice, circumstances or self-neglect.
Nature is always there for me when I’m in need or guidance. And I’m grateful for this connection. Even while I worry that we are losing more and more species and ecosystems, I keep faith and hope that we can work together to recognise and reconnect with ourselves, each other and nature to bring about systematic change to benefit all species, and the generations to come. Even in the little ways we show up for nature all count in the grand scheme of things, I think. This is why I’m excited about
🌳 The Rise Up Rooted Global Wellness Symposium 🌳
Join me on May 15th and let the Natural world lead you back home to yourself!
🌳 The Rise Up Rooted Global Wellness Symposium 🌳
Reconnect with the Earth, Reawaken Your True Nature, and Rewild Your Busy Life!
EVENT AIRS: Monday – Friday, May 15 – 19, 2023
Click here to join now for FREE!
I’m delighted to be a featured speaker at this free global event, created by my friend Alex Strauss to serve busy people all over the world. The 5-Day Rise Up Rooted Global Wellness Symposium, May 15 – 19, is your invitation to devote a few quiet minutes each day to your own well-being. I’ll be sharing more about my connection with nature and how she helped me fall in love with myself and others as part of a panel of 20+ featured speakers. From these authors, coaches, speakers, physicians, teachers, and healers, you’ll learn practical ways to…
- Clear space in your life to connect with the healing and uplifting power of the Earth, even when life is crazy busy
- Find hope and inspiration for uncertain times
- Learn simple, Natural self-care practices you can use anywhere
- Boost immunity, beat stress, and re-energize by growing and eating your own organic herbs and vegetables
- Reignite your creative spirit
- Bring the life-affirming power of “forest bathing” into your everyday life (even if you don’t have a forest near you)
- Attune to the seasons and cycles of the Earth (and stop working against them!)
- Recognize and apply “life lessons” from the Natural world
- Become more intentional about the time you spend outdoors…and indoors
- Embrace the power of mindfulness in Nature to quiet your busy brain
and so much more!
CLICK HERE to RSVP for this free event. When you register, you’ll be notified when my interview and other speakers’ interviews are available to watch.
This isn’t like any nature-focused event you’ve seen before. During this five-day journey, you’ll learn not only WHY we all need more Nature now, but also HOW to integrate more Nature into your daily life, and exactly WHAT to do when you you do get outside.
Note: This event was created for busy people. None of these pre-recorded interviews are longer than 45 minutes, so it’s easy to watch or listen during the day, whenever it’s convenient for YOU!
I really hope you’ll decide to invest a few hours between May 15 and May 19 with me and the other speakers. I know you will come away renewed, recharged, reconnected, and ready to tackle whatever comes next!
I hope to see you there!
Sheree x
PS – Don’t worry if your bare feet haven’t touched the Earth for months or you’re not a gardener. The Rise Up Rooted Global Wellness Symposium is NOT about any one way to connect with the Earth. Instead, it’s about simple, practical steps we can all take in our day-to-day lives to be healthier, happier, and more peaceful in body and mind. (Some of them can even happen while you sleep!) CLICK HERE to RSVP now.
PAD/ 028 – A little boy listening to the audio recording
of water/ waves/ ocean
The Middle Passage
water/ chains/ bodies – sweat, vomit, shit
and blood/ blood on so many hands.
The little boy asks, ‘Are they still swimming?’
PAD/ 027 – Taking a risk
When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?
oh it’s so sad/ she said/ when reading about slavery
oh it’s so wrong/ she said/ to anyone who’d listen
I listened/ to her going through the motions/ performing
they say peonies are showy flowers/ blousy bursting blooms/ for the show
at least peonies sense when it’s their time/ chance/nature to keep shut and wilt
PAD/019 – i am becoming my mother
Commentary: years ago I wrote a poem titled ‘ i am becoming my mother’. I think it’s in my first full collection Family Album, Flambard Press 2011.
A few weeks ago while attending one of my late night across the Atlantic poetry group workshops, I had an inkling to revisit this poem with the intention of bringing it up to date. To try and incorporate all the ‘Sherees’ that have developed, spored since the first poem, since my mum’s death and teachings have passed into decades gone by.
So I created this piece. Same title but definitely more expansive.
i am becoming my mother
Dehumanising the Black woman. Mammy, Jezebel, Sapphire, Bitch.
The black woman is seen as one dimensional; the mule of the world, carrying the heavy burden of mothering all others except her own.
Her own children are lost; lost to the auction block, the ocean, the noose.
A Black woman is a source of strength and love. Passing on power as well as pain.
Her body carries stories, carries histories, carries an archive.
as a black woman,
resting deep within the meadow,
held in softness,
grass tickling shins,
dress billowing about
like blossom,
is a political act.
Spring Blossoms
I’m not sure when my love affair with cherry blossom came into being. I’m not sure where I was when my heart began to swell at the mere beginning buds of cherry blossom on the trees. Bradford, where I was born and stayed until I was 10? Or Newcastle, where I enjoyed my formative years before escaping to London for my degree?
I’m not really sure when or where my deep appreciation and joy at seeing these puff balls of pinks or white or cerise came to be part of my being. I just know that I experience a child-like delight when I come across a tree in full cherry blossom bloom. My heart skips a beat and I’m jumping with glee, inside and outside, when cherry blossom comes into view. And the blossom is never here long enough for my liking.
Using the delicate pinks of cherry blossom, collaging with the images of cherry blossom in my visual journal, is my way of keeping the blooms alive, in my eyes and in my heart. Not just the sight of cherry blossom in my journal keeps these fragile blooms alive, but the feelings of joy and delight that they bring to my heart is kept alive too.
I created a special spread of cherry blossom for the BALTIC commission last year, that ended up being blown up from an A3 spread in a journal to an A0 poster size on a gallery space wall. In the middle of that spread is a Black woman smiling, almost dancing between the blossom, exuberating lush joy. This is me sharing my jubilation and love of cherry blossom with others.
This is my love letter to cherry blossom as well as giving thanks for the beauty of nature and how we are connected. How we are one.
PAD/001 – A Month of Poetry
Happy April. Time for showers, blossom and light. Oh and poetry.
As I mentioned last week, I’m honouring National Poetry Month with the challenge of writing a poem a day.
I’ve set myself this task many times over the years, and I’ve always been amazed at the creations along the way. Poems have emerged onto the page that I didn’t even know were in me and needed expressing.
So today I come to the page with an open heart and a rough idea of the themes or issues I want to explore. But who knows with the creative process. Anything could happen.
Anyway day 1 – PAD/ 001
Trying to understand “the difference between poetry and rhetoric”
After Audre Lorde
The contested site of black settlement in England
is shrouded a heavy fog of amnesia. The wrong colour,
the wrong body, the wrong sound.
Read the history books, you’d think we just landed
the day before last. 400 years of being here, lost
in the mire, weighted down with size 10, Dr. Martens.
Like transplanted birds of paradise, West Indians
struggled to put down roots. Alien soil. On corners,
skylarking and limin’, jobs, homes and a little bit of peace
denied; harsh whispers on the bitterly cold wind.
The contested site of black settlement in England
is captured in stills. Images speak for themselves.
Black faces filling the frame; black blooms pressed
against hothouse glass. But still an absent presence in failed memories.
Black Motherhood, Conjure and Poetry
I recently talked about the coming of April and how more poetry would be appearing on here as I attempt to ‘play with words’.
You can not imagine the delight as well as confirmation I received this morning while reading an article for the commissioned essay I’m writing at the moment around (Black) Motherhood.
A bone of contention with me is when I see the words ‘mother’ and ‘motherhood’, even though I have birthed children, I do not see these terms applied to me. ‘Mother’ and ‘motherhood’ come with the connotations of white and whiteness for me.
Test it yourself. Be honest. When I first mentioned ‘mother’, what image came to mind for you? If not a white woman and child. I’ve seen image after image of the idea of motherhood, the natural beauty of ‘The mother’ and nine times out of ten the image is of a white woman and child. As if a Black woman is not/ cannot be seen as a mother, even though a Black woman is the source of the whole human race. Go look that one up!
Anyway, I’m going off topic here ( but not in terms of the hybrid essay I’m writing for the forthcoming special Demeter Press collection, The Mother Wave: Matricentric Feminism as Theory, Activism, and Practice (2023)).
Reading this article this morning, ‘ Conjuring the Ghost: A Call and Response to Haints’ by drea brown, there is a mention of poetry lying in the body, coming from that dark place within where our true spirits lies hidden and growing, argues Audre Lorde. But poetry is also our way, Black people’s way, or theorising and making sense of things. Through our stories, narratives, riddles, poetry; playing with words and language, we not only gain an understanding and reimagining of our lives but these are also tools of surviving.
As Black women, speaking from my lived- experience here, through our creativity, through our playing with language in such a spirited way, we enter in the process of not just theorising and strategising but also self-making and through this practice passing this on to others. Passing on this power to others. It’s what we do, have been doing through time. Starting with the mothering we do of ours and others babies
Living Wild Studios 