The walk is blustery. A chill sets in. The stone wall from centuries past worn into smooth layers, slips and trips around memories.
She breaths deep and releases aeons of pain. Her body relaxes into the currents. And with arms wide, she lets go. Her shadow is a moving dark mass across the landscape.
Her heart, the energetic space of unconditional love beats for all, pumping the blood of life throughout and between this landscape and hers.
Proud as a wolf, protective and loyal, she still burns for the life that could have been. If she has said ‘no’ instead of yes. If she had walked on instead of stopping to pay attention.
Burning from the inside out, she has mastered the guise of calm and delicacy to anyone watching her. She has mastered the guise of contentment and love. But she smoulders.
But sometimes, a flicker escapes usually when out in the wilds. Usually when alone under the pale moon. Then you will see her prowl. Then you will hear her howl.
Today saw me hold the first meeting, as project coordinator, for the forthcoming project Black Nature in Residence.
This is a project funded by Art Council England which will run for the rest of 2020 and into next year, where four black writers will be in residence at different natural heritage sites in the North East of England.
More details will follow over on Earth Sea Love as things develop. But for now, believe me when I say, I’m excited about my opportunity to be in residence.
Jon Hopkins at The Sage Gateshead was phenomenal. His kind of music, electronica, is not usually my kind of music. But it was my husband, Alan who invited me along. As a kind of date. Jon and his support, Hayden Thorp, did not disappoint.
Polarity the show, with lights and haze, we a mingling of the gentle with the raw. There was tenderness and harshness. Closing my eyes, and the music getting into my body, I fell into a trance hard and profound. Letting go and just floating on the beats was an amazing experience and one I haven’t felt in a while. There were moments of sheer frenzy and then moments of stillness. Beautiful. I want to explore more of Hopkins’ music as well as Thorp’s because I’ve found having preconceived ideas about certain music genres can close me off from moments of clarity and enjoyment. I’m going to practice being more open to newness and stuff outside of my usual radar or comfort zone. Who knows what doors this will open inside me?
Today, I’m 60 posts into my #100daysofblogging here on my website. I think the first two months of the year have flown by. As we look towards Spring, I feel hopeful that I will fulfil this challenge, I feel hopeful that I’m learning so much from the journey.
During these 60 days, I’ll not lie, I’ve lost the spark, the creative spark from time to time. Those days when I can’t be bothered to come here. Those days when I’m tired or busy or just can’t face the blank screen. But making this commitment to myself has brought me back daily.
The spark is rekindled by remembering my purpose and passion. As the cheetah above signifies. Sometimes I just need to stop and check in with myself and check that I’m doing something for the right reasons. For something true to me.
I took upon this challenge for myself because I wanted a means to keep in touch with my creativity. I believe that action breeds action. Touching the bubble keeps the bubble afloat and important and in focus. Blogging helps me keep writing here and elsewhere.
The spark is rekindled by turning up. Do something. Do anything. Move forward. One word at a time. One foot in front is another. But don’t give up. The spark is rekindled by the feelings I experience when I know I showed up for me once again. It makes me smile. And Lord, do I like smiling.
Girltrek has announced March 1st as Black Women’s Appreciation Day. It’s about giving thanks to black women we know and don’t know. It’s about publicly flooding the world with thanks and love for black women who have not and continue to not receive their/ our rightful thanks, appreciation, gratitude, props and recognition for all that we do in this world; families, work, society and the Earth.
I totally embrace this day and give thanks to all the black women who came before me, trailing a path. I give thanks to all the black women walking beside me now. And I give thanks for the paths we trail for the black women to come behind us, our daughters. My Miss Ella.
I also give thanks and appreciation for myself. How I daily rock #blackgirlmagic against the odds. #ThankBlackWomen. Pass it on.
Today I wake to an email from Kenya and Michelle @Outdoor Journal Tour (ODJT) and the phenomenal work they’re doing in getting black women outdoors. They inspire me to do more especially when they share the reasons why black women need to experience the healing qualities of nature.
What makes me sad and angry is that they, we, don’t get enough support in this endeavour. Some people choose to troll them, us, derail us instead of recognise what we are doing and our struggle. Some people choose to not see inequalities and injustices in our society because it simply doesn’t effect them.
From a recent post on Instagram, ODJT shared their experience of being trolled but also the outpouring of love and support they are receiving for their work. Being able to see this support and understanding and love is fuel to continue what we are doing. Some people will never understand, listen or accept the way society does divide us along so many lines including race, gender, sexuality, religion etc. But we have to still have hope that change is here and there is more to come. We cannot give up hope.
Walk down by the falls, in winter, catch the scent of wet clay upon the breeze of indifference. Dullness is broken by golden catkins, with a hint of blush. Light and soft prickles flutter, hanging long, delicate and strong. Underneath, collect the hazelnuts but pay a mind to the grey squirrel with a rosy back, who probably needs them more than you. Share and connect as we are all kin. We are one.
Today, I’m up at 6am. We return to school after half-term break, and after the school run, I have an outdoor meeting. So my time is spoken for during the day. So I get up early, to come to my desk, and write. I ‘m working on putting my priorities first for a change. And don’t get me wrong, no one puts pressure on me to put their needs and wants first. No, no one has to do that because I do it myself. It is I who thinks I should be and do everything to everyone and bend in so many different directions and ways to make this happen. And when I don’t I’m racked with guilt and think I’m a bad mother, wife, friend, human being even.
For now, I’m changing this record which has been on repeat for far too long. I’m changing it up and sticking on the record which is called, Sheree’s priorities. It’s a sound that takes some getting used to. It’s a sound I might want to turn off straight away as it’s too needy, to hesitate, too demanding, too vulnerable. But I persevere through practice. Through turning up at my desk each day, sitting my arse down and picking up that pen and facing the uncertainties, I know I’m strengthening a much neglected muscle. And it feels good to find and use those muscles I didn’t even know I had.
And this morning, the music of that priorities record, that new release, is so growing on me that I find myself tapping my feet, swaying and singing along to the sweet sweet tune of creativity.
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Living Wild Studios 