One of the elements of the new novel, The Madness of Sara Mansfield, that’s important to me is the nature writing. Although this sci-fi trilogy nods towards dystopia, there’s also hope, and for me, the potential for new dreams always flows from nature.After wars, or in derelict places, wild plants grow, reclaiming the space, rejoicing in their fecundity. Nature knows how to heal the scars of our making. I think this is why I find books like McCarthy’s The Road…
I’m often asked how I manage to live in such a small space with a man and two hounds. Honestly – once you’re happy in your own company it doesn’t really matter how big or small the space. We do loads of stuff together in the dark evenings – films, scrabble, just chatting about life and weaving dreams; but also we do our own thing, I’ve got right back into knitting after a two-year hiatus because we were in hot…
Cadair Idris – Idris is a Cymraeg giant and this is his chair. Legend has it if you spend a night on this mountain you return mad or a poet (is there a difference?). I went to the mountain today and he asked, ‘What do you want?’‘I don’t want anything’ I replied.And I’ve felt proud that I’ve spent years cultivating this ‘not wanting’, growing an ability to step outside of the maelstrom of ‘want’ that we can all get sucked…
Sophie McKeandIn response to a week-long creative residency at the National Trust’s Chirk Castle, Jan/Feb 2020 To ascend the steep, tree-lined, bird-song-filled lane and face Chirk Castle’s imposing portcullis entrance, is to do no less than to hike through centuries of time. Multifaceted layers hang like bright linen sheets in the morning fog of these borderlands, of y ffîn, so that if you slow down for long enough you might feel a slight caress on the cheek, or a brush…
Finding my balance as an artist / as a woman // the ground shifts / & I stutter / until I understand that the dance isn’t / about knowing all the steps / but learning how to gracefully fall / in love with the process / of becoming. /// thanks for a lovely afternoon @lisaheleddjones and for helping me find my feet with it all 💗 More on this residency over in my Instagram Story Highlights.…
Sophie McKeand Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself.Walt Whitman I am in love with swallows. They have become the mascot of our travels as we follow their migratory paths: north for summer, south for winter. Standing at the borderlands of Y Mers (The Welsh Marches in south Wales) with fellow collaborator Mark Daman-Thomas, we watch summer swallows swing determined arcs from farmhouse roofs out across ankle-high grasses to take flying insects on the wing then sling-shot…
An old poem today inspired by one of my favourite birds, Dippers. There’s something utterly captivating about the way they dip-dip at the riverside, but don’t be fooled by this behaviour as they’re one of the few birds who can dive underwater to hunt in fast-flowing rivers. They’re exceptional wild swimmers and can also grip slippery rocks to wade beneath tumbling water when hunting. I haven’t seen any this year so far but I think that’s just because we haven’t…
The title of this poem is a Cymraeg idiom ‘bring to light’, ‘Stiniog is short for Blaenau Ffestiniog, a place in north Wales where we used to go mountain biking. Some of my deepest connections with the land have happened after a particularly gnarly day of exercise. There’s something about pushing yourself physically across a landscape that allows the mind to seep into new places. There’s a lot of talk these days about how little value words have, it’s probably…