Playful Palimpsests

I go to my local probably about once a week if not more. I was brought up next to a library, in Bradford and in Newburn. They were places I could go to for some sense of freedom and adventure.

The librarians knew me and would recommend books to me and events. They wouldn’t rush me, I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted.

Today, I love to pop in to see the book sales at my local libraries. As I have a few on my doorstep now. I flit between them, collecting worn and torn books that I repurpose.

I was brought up to know it was ‘wrong’ to write in books. They were sacred in our home. Probably because we were poor and if we bought books, usually from the indoor market in town, we knew it was money we couldn’t afford to spend on books. But my parents spent it anyway, as they valued books, learning and education. It was our way out of poverty.

I wonder what they would say now, if they saw what I did to books?

10p is all I pay for big, colourful children’s books, withdrawn from library stock. I have to feel the paper first though before I buy them. Even if only 10p, too shiny the page and the paint won’t grip it as well. The paint just swirls around and doesn’t stick.

I like my pages rough and matt finished. Ready to absorb whatever I put down on it.

This sketchbook was my side hustle for the last month. Side hustle to my main creative sketchbook. Here I just lay down colour and see what happens.

I like when what’s underneath the paint bleeds through. I like when the different layers of paint and pencil and pen bleeds through to the surface too.

It’s like a palimpsest. The marks beneath is the feeling I’m after. The haunting, the trace, the evidence of time and the passage of time. The archive is present now.

a morning well spent

Visual journaling in community is always time well spent.

Even if it’s their first rodeo, to witness the freedom, the mess, the expansion as paint meets paper meets card. Bliss. Magic. A gift.

Walking out with their own visual journals clutched close to their chests, promising to carry on the practice themselves, now they’ve got the power within their hands, hearts and soul.

A job well done any time the visual journaling practice is passed on.

I do believe it makes us better human beings. Better to each other and ourselves. Softer, caring and well-nourished.

Healing.

An Archives of Memories, Feelings and Skyr

This is one of my favourite images from my extensive collection.

I know exactly when and where it was taken. Westfjords Residency, Iceland, Feb/March 2017.

This was my go to breakfast. Coffee, cornflakes and Skyr, Icelandic protein enriched yogurt. I love the colours, the composition. The items included. But most of all, I love the memories and feelings just looking at this image evokes.

It takes me back to that time of wonder and discovery during my second time to Iceland. A residency I gifted to myself, writing the application while teaching temporally; frustrated, longing to get out and create.

I stayed for two weeks in the shadows of the mountains, knee deep in snow most days until the thaw came with some greening of the landscape.

I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing there back then. I just knew in my body that I needed to get away, gain inspiration from the landscape and {BE}.

I might not have completed much when I was out there, but I know when I returned the experience shifted my creativity and how I saw myself as a creative.

I saw glimmers of the Northern Lights during this retreat. Pale creamy wisps and trails in a dark navy sky. It was magical and a mystery.

This makes me think about my art-making practice and how most of the time I’m working in the dark, moving out of my comfort zone into the unknown, looking and listening hoping to catch a glimpses of magic and mystery in the process.

What’s created on the page, like this photography, is an archive, a record which when looked upon brings to the surface all the memories and feelings of the process, the experience once again experienced to the full with wonder and a smile.

A Creative Sketchbook, Dec 2025

My creative sketchbook
My creative sketchbook rules

I’m not sure how my creative sketchbook differs from my visual journal. Intention maybe.

Perhaps, I think , I’m attempting to develop my art practice within a designated space. A study maybe.

I haven’t really been in the thick of my art making practice since the preparation for my Baltic exhibition back in 2022-3.

This was quickly followed with the writings and (re)drafts of Darkling, my poetry/hybrid collection published in October 2024.

After this 2025 has been a period of extended rest and refusal.

But something has been niggling me. The desire to create with paint again. the desire to play without expectations and outcomes/ products.

I’ve just scratched the itch through scrolling through Pinterest. Adding another abstract or landscape painting to a board that I’ll probably not look at again.

But it satisfied this niggling feeling. Until it didn’t.

It was going back into the classroom. Completing a few days of supply that pushed me over the edge.

The time I gave away for money. The time I’d lost pursuing my own pursuits. And realising that I wasn’t pursuing all the pursuits I wanted to pursue in the time I had/have.

So out came a creative sketchbook, inspired by the 30 days sketchbook challenge created by Cheryl Taves over at Insight Creative.

This is as much as I’m willing to share for now about the challenge, my creative sketchbook, processes and insights.

One of my rules is that it’s just for my eyes only. I want to see how this rule changes my practice. I want to create without fear but with curiosity. I want to give myself all the freedom without worrying about what others will think or say or comment on.

It’s not like I’m hanging on other people’s responses and reactions but I have gotten into a habit of just sharing anything and everything on my blog and I’m curious to see what happens when I keep things to myself.

Just for my eyes, heart, and soul only.

So far I’m enjoying the process of the challenge and I’m reflecting and paying attention to what makes my heart sing, what’s my creative vocabulary, what pushes my energies.

Do doubt whatever I explore within my creative sketchbook will be showing up in everything that I create. In everything who I {BE}. For sure.

The Current Visual Journal

So I said I would be back to share with you my current visual journal. Coming into the mix at the end of May after a weeks of zero colour, my soul and creativity were craving colour and space. A large space.

So I went back to Flying Tiger and purchased the A3 sketchbook I failed to purchase a couple of weeks before. The paper inside is creamy and reminds me of sugar paper from primary school. It’s a rough and ready kind of texture, rustic and low maintenance. Not too high quality to raise the fear levels of making mistakes or not being quite so perfect.

I’m been enjoying preparing the pages with colour. Throughout my day, I have the journal laid out on the table in the corner of my bedroom and when I walk past, I choose 2, 3 or 4 colours from my collection of little bottles of acrylic paint and make generous dollops on the page.

Then I bring out my trusted old faithful, the disused bank card and smear that paint around. This calms my nerves, stills the worries and brings me joy. I love how the different combinations of paint play out together on the page. It’s a true collaboration.

I know this journal is far too big to be carrying around with me as I go about my business outside: sea swims, coffee meets, trip to London at the moment. But still I carry it with me, enjoying tucking it under my arm or carrying it pressed against my chest.

Sometimes, as happened today, stray streams of paint, still wet and sticky, collect within the seams and edges of the pages, transferring to my fingers, smearing on my coat and t-shirt. Today, it was bright turquoise and sandy brown that ended up on my hands and clothes by the time I reached the metro station to get to Newcastle Central Station. I really couldn’t be annoyed as it goes with the territory. You play with paint and you’re bound to make a mess.

But I don’t care because I feel and know in my heart and gut that I’m making a whole heap of mess within my visual journal because that’s how I make sense, make joy, make a way for me to navigate through this world on my own terms.

On my travels

Today is my travel day for the first trip of 2025. While knee deep in shit in 2024, with the feeling of drowning in it, I made a commitment to myself to hibernate for the first 3 months of 2025 ( as I am {being}). But I also promised to focus on the experience(s) rather than the material in 2025.

So instead of buying more stuff ( low buy year), that is just going to sit around collecting dust or do I really need another duvet set?, I made an intention to use this money I would waste on ‘goods’ on experiences instead that would make me feel something, hopefully joy but also curiosity, wonder and awe.

Today I fly out to Barcelona to begin this year of experience(s). A year of me saying ‘yes’ to my desires. Instead of talking myself out of things or worrying about costs ( all travel is on a budget and carbon off set) I’m just going to {BE}/ do it. I’m going to fill my pot again and again with goodness and ease and abundance because God(dess) knows no one is gonna.

So come along for the ride with me as I revisit Barcelona after many years of absence. At one time back there, I used to visit Barcelona every year around autumn with the family and seek out the golden light.

Not sure what the light will be like this January but I’m ready to find out.

Travelling light in so many ways, I’m walking into my next experience promising to stay in the moment.

Present for this present. Come with me!

Sharing some words on substack

I haven’t looked back since I left mailchimp and took Living Wild Studios Notes over to substack. To send out a missive, a newsletter, or even just a hello is so much more straightforward and simple. It makes the task less arduous and much more enjoyable.

So I’ve just spent some time today creating the last note of the year for subscribers. And I added in an audio reading of it too, because I can.

It’s just me musing about the loss of words this year and then finding them again through listening outdoors and within. Go on over there and check it out. Warning: poetry included too!

And sign up as a subscriber if you fancy too. You’ll be more than welcome.

Update – Mamathon

As I was saying over in the introduction to the recent episode released from The Earth Sea Love Podcast, apart from the year flying by, May was the month that kicked my butt. It’s officially going down as the worst month of 2023, so far for me. But hey I’m still here to tell the tale and I’m grateful for that.

I have to give some credit to still being here and getting through the trenches down to my walking practice of May. I completed the Mamathon as hosted by Girltrek and clocked up 53 miles. Of course I did more walking than that in May but these are the miles that were recorded with my Garmin watch. Just trying to keep everything recorded so I knew when I hit the miles, I knew I was banking them towards this challenge.

I’m so glad I took up this task. I started it with Miss Ella and finished it with Miss Ella yesterday afternoon. Even though she was full of cold she joined me to mark the occasion. I also went over on my right foot again. Same place / same injury as the one that stopped me completing the West Highland Way last year. But I’ve been icing and elevating it as well as walking on it today. A bit swollen and bruised but okay to walk on.

And I’m pleased about that as I would be most upset if I was out of action again just when I feel as if I’ve gotten into some kind of walking routine. Girltrek are running their Black History Bootcamp podcast this year again, which entails 21 days of meditations of Black stories are shared. So I’m just gonna keep on walking in June to the sounds of this podcast and clock up some more miles.

The West Highland Way is on again this year. Birthday week with dear friend, Alex, we’re walking the way together. More details to follow. Already excited about completing it. See what I did there? The power of positive energy. It usually get’s me through. Got me through May. Thank you very much.

Happy June.

Spiral(Poetry for May)

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.