After Althea McNish
Sunflowers
big and bold
inspired by Van Gogh’s
brandished
across a
yellow and white
striped field
black lines
outline floppy leaves
and dozing closed heads
bright colour carried to
this grey isle
not a luxury but a necessity
for survival
for blooming
another time
uprooted
sunflowers
As mentioned in my last post, we have the Black Nature In Residence Showcase coming up on the evening of 28 October.
This is the first event in a series that identity on tyne through their Earth Sea Love project are collaborating with Northumberland National Park to host.
Other events offered as an alternative to the Future Landscape Programme that will run at the same tine at COP26 in Glasgow, will provide diverse voices to the environmental and conservation movement and makes those all important links between the local and global in terms of the climate crisis.
Starting on 11 November, 7.30-8.30pm – Decolonising the Environmental Movement
I’ll be hosting a conversation with Sarah Hussain and Serayna Solanki
Through their projects and research, both Sarah Hussain and Serayna
Solanki are providing spaces for marginalised communities and people of
colour to engage with nature as a means of changing the narrative around
who has a say in the Climate Change Movement. They are working within
education and research, community and organisational partnerships, to create
and highlight dialogue around climate justice through personal and community
storytelling.
Then 18 November, 7-8pm, Nature Writing Reading
Join me , as host again, with Jo Clement and Zakiya McKenzie for a reading and discussion of literature which explores place, environment, belonging and identity as both writers read from and talk about their recent collections.
Then on 22 November, 7-8pm – A keynote lecture with Grace Hull, Holistic Sustainability
What is holistic sustainability?
Grace Hull created Green Grace Soul to share her journey to living sustainably in a holistic way. Grace attempts to balance the food she eats, the products she uses and the things she buys with the most beneficial outcomes for her health, the health of the planet, and the others living on it.
Sustainable living and Climate Change activism have many faces, and by centring holistic sustainability Grace engages with intersectionality and the social and historical context of climate change through the reflections of her journey that she shares on her website, podcast and DIY projects.
This will be a keynote lecture followed by a Q and A.
In the shape of a tree,
my scar is painted with code.
Through the letting of blood, I wait
for the sound of my screams.
But what I do not plan for
is the mashed up sycamore spinners,
the trampled copper conkers
and the singed bramble bushes.
Graceless and broken,
I get high on the thoughts
of owning myself; the plumage
of starlings embroidered
on an intimate mind.
I learn to be here, becoming,
as each riding curl of water,
rolls towards my toes
and retreats.
Nothing stays the same here
– liminal layered space/ place.
Black Sea – Sea black.
Night is my skin …
These sands must testify
for the desires of the masters
and yet I stand here breathing
not doubting my black toes
digging in, claiming healing.
Black Sea, liquid black.
Water meets water and connects.
To take these steps into the dark
is coming home, is letting go.
Is enough.
I learn to be here, becoming,
as each riding curl of water,
rolls towards my toes
and retreats.
Nothing stays the same here
– liminal layered space/ place
Black Sea – Sea black.
Night is my skin …
These sands must testify
for the desires of the masters
and yet I stand here breathing
not doubting my back toes
digging in, claiming healing
I learn to be here, becoming,
as each riding curl of water,
silver slivers, runs
towards my toes
and retreats.
Nothing stays the same
in this liminal space.
Black Sea – Sea black.
Night is my skin …
To be continued
eyes closed
listening
divine whispers
submerged thoughts
she holds the power she seeks
as she stands at the edge of the sea
where the veil swings slim
ancient memories resurface
humming
rain falls
she listens
for herself
I feel like I’m holding a million little Sherees
in my arms and each one with a need to be fulfilled.
I’m lost, not knowing what to do for the best,
who to listen to the first. All are fragile and in pain.
They’re little me’s at different times in my life.
The little puffy afro-ed toddler.
The dreadlocked housewife.
The first school bunchies kind of kid.
The jet black straight haired newborn.
The baldy divorcee.
Mini Sherees all making noise
vying for my attention, craving love
wanting to be seen and healed.
I’m afraid one will slip through my fingers,
or I’ll break the neck of another.
It’s a huge responsibility to carry myself
alone. And not allowing one single Sheree in.
After Megan Fernandes
Sometimes, I could see Daddy,
liming along the sea walls of Trini
racing in the hills between the metal shacks
clothed under a black blanket dotted
with diamonds holding wishes of England
whispered from thick black lips.
I’ve been waiting on Summer like a promise.
Sweating under breasts, I’m reluctant to cross
over the threshold, the weight of this black body
offending everybody and including me.
Some days, I imagine silver light shed
along the shoreline. Probing sand eels
leaving spiralling piles of sand and shit.
Grace is not something I wear. Except
one time after pulling myself together again in
Iceland’s otherworldly landscape.
Daddy kept his island parcelled in fur, under
the bed, never to drift out and cocoon me in home.
At midlife crisis, I’m knee-deep in this man-made
forest, serpents for hair, munching waxcaps, knowing
it’s not wise, but mesmerised by their ruby rubber
ness, knowing there’s no escape looking in the mirror
Sheree Angela Matthews 