Brief Encounters

The farm tracks are wet from last night’s rain

Fallen leaves wearing their raindrop glossy coats

It’s gloomy – mild for the time of year

The clouds push in, and I see Autumn shades smudging into the grey landscape

Aside from an occasional whirr and chat from the hedgerow sparrows

And the high distant silhouette of a gull and a pigeon, the birds are absent

I pass two people talking, one out walking his dog

And I wander on towards work

Leaving the tracks I turn onto the main road, and as always, the mood shifts

From peace and quiet, to fast moving traffic, and noise

I don’t usually care for this stretch of the walk

But today I’m reminded possibilities can appear anywhere

There’s a kestrel sitting on top of the nearest lamppost

I approach – we size each other up, and the bird takes flight

Settling on the next lamp post

The game is afoot – and we continue

I advance slowly, then the bird takes flight,

Gliding across the road, then back to settle, one stop further down the line

Our walk towards my work continues, until after several hellos and goodbyes

The bird spots something and is away, over the hedge and across the field

Arriving at work, I turn off the main road and as always, the mood shifts

From fast moving traffic, and noise, to something more focused and calm

I don’t usually care for that previous stretch of the walk

But today I’m reminded possibilities can appear anywhere

Strangely - or maybe not - I’ve traced this short walk six times recently, starting with the one that sparked the above poem. On four of those six occasions, the kestrel and I have encountered one another. The bird on the lamp post, me down below.

Curiosity, Patience, Persistence, Kindness

The weather is currently playing with us. Much missed downpours interspersed with long periods of warm sun. Is Autumn here yet? It’s certainly knocking on the door, and before we let it in - there’s some field work wrapped in an adventure that we need to undertake.

And so it was that last Friday, Carole and I took a pair of binoculars, a camera, a packed lunch and headed to Barnes to spend much of the day at The London Wetland Centre. Even before we arrived, a heron was on hand to signpost the way. This was our first visit to the centre - I love that sense of newness, not knowing what you might find - and just being curious and open to the possibilities.

Heron on Barnes Pond

On arrival we learned there are, somewhat aptly, two wings to the centre. We headed out along the South Route, after it was described to us as slightly…wilder? As we head off, a quick note on accessibility. The centre is largely flat, and while there are some pathways which require careful navigation - we noticed accessible alternatives pretty much right across the centre. Even one of the taller hides has a lift - and we concluded this felt like a well designed wheelchair friendly space (I don’t have any special mobility needs myself so this is just a lay person’s observation).

London Wetland Centre Accessible Map

It was a fine sunny, warm day, and immediately we became aware there are dragonflies and damselflies everywhere - neither of us can recall seeing so many in one place before now. Apart from the one Common Darter which settled briefly at our feet, and a Migrant Southern Hawker which Carole spotted - most of the dragonflies we saw were airborne - impossible to track for any length of time - let alone photograph. We wandered on, fascinated by how much more diverse the insect population becomes when you add water into the mix.

Common Darter on the boardwalk

Migrant Southern Hawker

We stopped at a hide to look out over the main lake. I love how much less visible we become in these places. The wildlife is familiar with the hide and with care, windows can be silently opened and closed without disturbing the birds.

As we looked over the water - someone else arrived into the space - we said hello, admired their huge camera and chatted a while. I explained that my current camera is new to me - and that I’ve more or less taken it out of the box and started shooting. I’m happy enough with the results and conscious I need to learn much more about how to operate this technology. The person offered to give me a couple of immediate tips, and after some quick settings adjustments - a hobby sped past the hide. These birds can move, and it was a fair distance away - but I managed to get a passable shot.

Hobby in flight

As we chatted - the hobby returned and this time, a gull pursued it. This aerial battle took place right at the very limits of where my camera lens can reach - and while none of my hobby v gull pics are award winners, once again I was pleased enough with what I captured. We said thanks for this brief yet extremely useful piece of tuition and went our separate ways.

Hobby and Gull aerial battle

The rest of our visit was enjoyable - so much so that we joined the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust, who run this and several other centres. Not long before we left - we spotted another Common Darter. This one was settled on a wooden railing and it kept flying off, and returning. We watched a while and carefully approached. The next time it flew, I pressed the shutter button.

Common Darter In Flight

I can’t quite believe this is the photo I took. I’ve been trying to capture a dragonfly in flight for years, but they’re crazy fast and all I normally get is blurs. I appreciate this photo isn’t ‘perfect’ and the insect is flying away - but still - to capture a dragonfly mid wing beat is something else, huh?

A fascinating day out - and thanks to the kindness of a stranger willing to gently offer me some tips, a chance to learn more about the amazing technology I carry around with me.

Curiosity : Patience : Persistence - and lest we forget, kindness. A powerful combination. indeed

Traveling The Landscape : Dreaming and Reality

A research visit to Tate Modern beckons. The chance to take in work by Australian artist Emily Kam Kngwarray - an artist new to me, and English born Richard Long - someone I am more familiar with. Kngwarray’s work comes from Alhalker, a region of land in the Northern Territory of Australia, specifically in the Central Desert Sandover region, to the northeast of Alice Springs. Long's work encompasses locations from across the world. Both artists explore the land, through topography, geography, geology and more - albeit in very different ways. I travelled to London with Carole, hoping their work would inspire and inform me and my current project, ‘The Path’.

“For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples, the concept of Country encompasses the lands, skies and waters to which they are deeply connected, over countless generations. Country is a shared place of spiritual, social and geographical origins. Kngwarray’s art embodies her detailed knowledge of the places where she lived throughout her life with layered motifs representing the plants, animals and geological features that formed the desert ecosystems around her.”

— Tate Modern

Emily Kam Kngwarray

I’d never before experienced work by this artist - you may well not have done either, given that the exhibition currently on at Tate Modern is the first large scale show of her work ever held in Europe.

The early work on show, first batiks then works on canvas, are impressive yet modest in size. Kngwarray quickly scales up, in subsequent rooms lengthy batiks hang from the ceiling, and the canvas pieces on the walls are sizeable. Something I’m drawn to is how the works look so very different at distance, than when seen close up. As you walk back and take in the work - the patterns and dots become something more akin to pathways and topography. I love how the change happens right before your eyes. Aboriginal culture is not something I yet know much about - so I hope it is OK to say that the writing in the show about dreams, combines with a sense of magic about the work in a way that resonates with me when I think about landscape and our connection to The Path. The exhibition runs until 11th January 2026.

A description of Dreaming which accompanies the art on show

Hanging Batiks

Anwerlarr (Yam) Dreaming

“My work really is just about being a human living on this planet and using nature as its source … I enjoy the simple pleasures of wellbeing, independence, opportunism, freedom, dreaming, happenstance; of passing through the land and sometimes stopping to leave (memorable) traces along the way.”

— Richard Long

Richard Long

I first learned about Richard Long on a research visit to the Tate Archives. This visit was organised while on a relief printing and bookbinding course, run at The Art Academy by the talented tutor and artist, Carol Wilhide Justin ARE.

The research visit was focused on artists books - and though Richard Long’s work extends far beyond the pages of his books - into sculpture and land art, I was drawn to the clarity and simplicity of these written* and photographic works we were introduced to. Check out WANDERINGWONDERING - just one example from an extensive catalogue.

I love how Richard Long is able to distil the essence of several days walking into just a few lines. Learning about his work is part of what inspired me to delve into creative writing myself - focusing on local nature, currently in a more narrative and poetic way? I’m keen to try this distillation idea for myself too - but I worry it might be seen as copying - or too obvious? Anyway, I digress.

The work currently on show in Tate Modern is a mix of drawing onto maps, textworks, photography, sculptures, and a large reimagined wall painting, the original of which featured in the opening of the gallery back in 2000.

Huge flint circle, with china clay wall painting in the background. I didn’t write down the exact details but you get the idea, I hope!

Although Richard Long works all over the world, I find the work he makes based on time spent in the UK particularly fascinating - perhaps because it reflects my own experiences of walking in nature more closely? I don’t know how long this collection of Richard Long’s work is on show for - it’s free to wander in and I thoroughly recommend you do just that.

And as surely as Summer walks out the door and Autumn brings in falling leaves, long trousers and a jumper, I found today’s research particularly invigorating. I’ve done a lot of field work since my residency at The Hide last year. At the time, my host, Alice, advised me not to rush. She was right to suggest some time to reflect, and I think it’s now time to get to work.

Which Way Should We Go?

I’ve just completed a 21.5km out and back walk from home to Morden Hall Park. The ‘purpose’ of the walk - other than to spend time in nature, was to gather materials for a one-off artists book I’m making, using found materials to describe the route from Oaks Park to Morden Hall via The River Wandle.

My time on the trail was a mix of birdsong, butterflies, damselflies, dragonflies, unexpectedly huge fish, a friendly chat with an angler, and more. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve tracked this section of the river from Hackbridge to Morden, but it never gets dull.

I began to tire on the way home - I’d taken a few short curiosity fuelled diversions along the way, extending the walk further than originally intended. Approaching Carshalton I ignored my tired aching muscles, and took a final diversion onto Wilderness Island. Wilderness Island is a small nature reserve surrounded by water. I’d already been there once today - and recorded a zero sightings butterfly count. My main motivation in returning was to see if anything could be found fluttering in the mid afternoon sun. For the record, I saw Large Whites, Small Whites, and Speckled Woods in a clearing.

The island is split into a raised wooded area, and a lower, wetland section. As I walked around the woods, it dawned on me that I always walk the wetland section counter-clockwise. I chose to break this little habit, and wandered on. Over the years I’ve grown pretty good at walking quietly through nature, I often surprise birds who don’t hear me coming until we’re just feet apart.

I turn a corner and my eyesight is immediately illuminated by an unmistakeable iridescent blue. The kingfisher - a notoriously skittish bird - has not noticed me. I unfold my arms and camera, fully expecting the bird to take flight, but it doesn’t.

Kingfisher on Wilderness Island

Our encounter lasts several minutes. The bird scanning the river, me silently in awe. I’ve seen kingfishers here before now - three in one visit - but never this close, and never for this long. Eventually I let my guard down, moving slightly to my right, the bird catches sight of me, and is gone in an instant.

As I wander on - it strikes me that had I walked around the island counter-clockwise, the way I’ve always done before, I would have come across the bird totally differently. The angle of approach, the distance from which I’d have been seen - everything would have exposed me to the bird much more readily. I can’t prove this, but I am completely certain that my decision to break my counter-clockwise habit was pivotal in bringing me to this very special occasion. It’s no coincidence that the front and back covers of the book I am making are illuminated in a kingfisher blue, reflecting this beautiful bird, but I honestly never expected to be able to include such a vivid real life encounter, into this artistic tale.

For me - this is a simple, powerful reminder that habits often form quite unknowingly, and that breaking them from time to time, can deliver spectacular results.

Out For The Count

After a couple of days of meetings and research up in Manchester, I returned home on Sunday afternoon and took advantage of the fine weather in our neighbourhood to take a slow wander and record a few more butterfly sightings on the last day of The Big Butterfly Count. It was a truly lovely walk through Queen Mary’s Park and beyond, with several highlights, including this Small Copper taking a break on a rather tired wild flower.

Small Copper in Wellfield Plantation

I’m getting ahead of myself however - as this citizen science adventure began 23 days earlier on 18th July 2025. Carole and I travelled to Epping Forest for the first time that day - to celebrate our wedding anniversary with a long walk in new territories for us. Epping Forest is stunning - ancient woodland reaching from the edges of North East London way out into the county of Essex. I could write pages based on our time here - but I digress. This is where our 2025 Big Butterfly Count began when we recorded 32 Gatekeeper butterflies flurrying (is that a word) around ragwort. Here are some of thos Gatekeepers along with a handful of other highlights from the walk.

Taking part in the count is simple. You just find a green space - enjoy it for 15 minutes, and log any butterfly sightings during that time, on an app. I chose to integrate this project into my daily work - butterfly spotting on the way to and from work, and in other green locations I encountered along the way. Over the course of the 23 days, I ended up submitting 103 counts, which might sound like a lot, but given many of these were slotted into walks I was already having to do - it was easy to fit this work in.

Most of my counts were submitted on local walks, beginning and ending at home and my art studio in Oaks Park, passing through Queen Mary’s Park, Queen Mary’s Woodland, Wellfield Plantation, and close to Sutton Community Farm. As the days unfolded, I resolved to take a few adventures further afield, to see what else I could find. I visited Hutchinson’s Bank, and Chapel Bank - well known local nature reserves on the Croydon/Kent borders, and I also travelled to Knepp - a fascinating rewilding project in Sussex. These places deserve their own write ups and for now here’s a brief photographic look at some of the surprises awaiting me when I travelled slightly longer distances. At one point there were 16 storks flying over us at Knepp - an amazing sight!

When submitting to the Big Butterfly Count you’re given a range of species (including a few moths) to identify and record. They’re all pretty distinctive - the choices offered are all reasonably popular species and ones most of us are likely to be able to identify positively. You don’t have to see something to submit a record, on a handful of occasions I saw no butterflies - it’s important to register these zero counts too.

Across the 103 counts I registered, I spotted just over 1,500 butterflies, and while that might not seem many in a total count of well over 1.8 million, my figures have me listed as 9th nationally based on the number of counts, and 14th nationally, based on the number of butterflies recorded, from a total of over 117,000 participants. To be clear - back on July 18th I didn’t set out to climb this particular mountain, nevertheless I am really glad I did. Not only did I get to spend time in nature, gathering important data, I visited less familiar places, and saw things way beyond my expectations.

As well as the beauty and variety of what I’ve experienced, what this year’s Big Butterfly Count has shown me is how powerful and simple, data gathering can be. Imagine what you could learn in your organisation through encouraging people to observe things regularly, repeatedly and with curiosity at the heart of that activity.

A Speckled Wood butterfly on Wilderness Island, perfectly backlit.

A Rare And Special Day

It’s 8am, the sun is pushing weakly through cloud cover. All is quiet at Hutchinson's Bank, a nature reserve situated on the Croydon/Kent borders, about 8 miles from where I live. I don’t typically travel far to get my nature fix - preferring to walk in and around my immediate neighbourhood, but this is a special place, worth jumping in the car for.

I begin my walk, making my way into the reserve, heading for and wandering slowly through a cutting, covered in pollinator friendly plants. The cloud is burning off fast, and this area is still largely in shade, so I press on. As I prepare to leave the cutting, I discover three Small Blues. Prior to this the most I'd seen in any one day was two - so I felt off to a good, gentle start.

Small Blue

Wandering slowly past sheep in the fields, I hear an engine growling up above and briefly, see a Spitfire crossing the sky. Not the kind of flying object I was primarily seeking, but a nice surprise nonetheless.

Spitfire over Hutchinson’s Bank

The plane engine noise subsides, and peace in the valley returns. The sounds of song thrushes, blackbirds, and chaffinches gently fills the air. I walk on, passing through a gate into Slimming’s Down, and everything begins to change. Almost immediately I become aware of a handful of Small Blues. They’re tiny butterflies, and their fluttering is almost ghost like. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and more. I’ve never seen anything like this before. It really hits me that I’m the only human around, and I’m delighting in my solo adventure. Truly I feel speechless, so if anyone else had been there - I probably would have remained silent, in awe of what I am seeing.

I cross a barren patch of ground, keeping close to a chalk bank full of flowering wild plants. Everywhere there is fluttering movement. The Small Blues keep coming, and I keep counting, in amazement. I slowly cross the field, spotting the pale orange and brown of Small Heath butterflies, and a vivid Small Tortoiseshell - which leads me a merry dance across scrubby ground before putting its foot down and leaving me for dust.

I carry on, disappearing into woodland, and the Comma and Speckled Wood butterflies dance around in dappled shade. I get lost a couple of times in the woods before arriving at a roadside gap in the trees. This narrow lane can get quite busy, so I look out carefully, and the peace remains intact. I cross the road, and find myself in Chapel Bank, an adjoining nature reserve.

Through the woods and out into a clearing, planted with dogwood. I pause and receive a delightful surprise. The Duke of Burgundy pays me a visit. This is a rare butterfly - I know of nowhere else around here where you’ll find one - and we’re close to the end of their short annual season, so I stop a while to spend time in this exquisite company. As we sit together, Common Blues flutter around choosing not to disturb us.

Duke of Burgundy

Beyond the clearing, and through a gate, a field opens up, and the proliferation of Small Blues continues. I eventually stop counting at over 150 sightings. I literally pinch myself - what a time and place to be alive. In the same field I also find the Green Hairstreak and the Dingy Skipper. This walk just gets better and better.

I begin my return leg, leaving the field, and crossing the clearing. There, right in front of me on the path, is a Painted Lady. Another unexpected beauty. A strong flyer, and not in the mood to hang around, I’m lucky to grab a photo as it briefly alights at eye level before flying away.

Painted Lady

I carry on, slowly making my way back - not really wanting this to end. As I arrive back to the cutting in Hutchinson’s Bank, I bump into two people, and we briefly chat about our different discoveries. I leave the cutting and make my way back to the car.

Walking along the final section of pathway before leaving the reserve, a small brown and orange flash zips by. I stop, and wait. Not one, not two, but three Glanville Fritillaries appear. Without a doubt the rarest beast I’ve seen today.

To end this walk in such beautiful company is so much more than I could wish for, but here I am, and there they are. Stunning.

I drift back to the car, and check my notes.

I saw:

Small Blue - I stopped counting at 150 - never seen anything like it!!

Small Heath - 5

Small Tortoiseshell - 3

Comma - 3

Speckled Wood - 3

Common Blue - 12

Duke of Burgundy - 1

Green Hairstreak - 2

Dingy Skipper - 1

Painted Lady - 1

Holly Blue - 1

Glanville Fritillary - 3

A truly rare and special morning walk.

Wandering and Wondering

Me yakking on about butterflies - not that we saw any on such a cloudy day!

I led a short nature walk through a local park this weekend (Queen Mary’s Park in Carshalton), the first time I’ve done such a thing. It was interesting, enjoyable, and seemed to be well received. I thought I’d scribble a few notes about it in case I need to refer back, and who knows, maybe you’d like to give this a go too? To be clear - I am no expert - simply an enthusiast who appreciates the benefit of spending time in nature.

I introduce my ‘philosophy’ as being made up of Curiosity : Patience : Persistence. Although I did more of the talking - the session was very much about dialogue, and shared experience. The time we spent together was about nature and us, not nature and me.

Around 20 of us gathered against a backdrop of cloudy skies. The plan - such as there was one - was to wander slowly through the park - stopping in various locations, to listen and look.

Pausing to talk briefly about plants, and their role in attracting and sustaining different species.

Being led by sound is a great way to improve our understanding of what is going on in the trees and hedges around us. I sometimes use technology to help me figure out what I’m listening to, and increasingly I prefer to use my ears and try to figure things out myself first - then use tech as a back up or a check.

I often find I see interesting things when I have the time to stop and wait a while. Birds frequently fly off when they see and hear movement, and when we've the time to stand and wait - that patience can be rewarded. Birds can be territorial - you notice this more and more after repeated, slow walks around nature. That repetition helps you build mental maps and imagery.

I kept a note of what was seen and heard - not a complete list but an interesting one I hope.

• Swift

• Mistle Thrush

• Crow

• Magpie

• Chiffchaff

• Wood Pigeon

• Greenfinch

• Skylark

• Starling

• Wren

• Blackbird

• Great Tit

• Robin

• Mallard! Yes - a duck wandered along a path by a wooded section of park just as we were finishing up.

• Firecrest

• Jay

The hour or more we spent together passed in what felt like a few minutes, and as is often the case in times like these, we headed for home with the words of WH Davies drifting through my head.

"What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare?" WH Davies

Remix : Revolutionising the music industry from the ground up

I attended an interesting panel discussion at The RSA last night. I took some notes and I thought it might be useful to share them here. They’re not particularly polished - and I haven’t attributed the words directly to the speakers - but they may serve a useful documentation purpose, so here goes.

The Remix: Revolutionising the Music Industry from the Ground Up

Question: If you could do one thing overnight to change the industry, what would it be?

• Government Action: Devolve responsibility from DCMS (Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport) into business, planning, etc.

• We need a ministry for the arts and it must be separate from sport.

• Put music back in schools and on the high streets. Music should be experienced, like nature, to create connections.

• Redistribution of Money: Shift funds from the top down to the grassroots level.

Key Additional Discussion Points: Sustainability of Grassroots Music:

• Most music does not generate significant revenue. How does grassroots music work in this model?

• There is a need for support as it’s difficult to bring new talent on without covering operational costs.

• Community Ownership: Could reduce risks and increase local engagement with venues and events.

• Passion projects often overtake usual business practice, making it harder to develop talent.

• New Artists: It’s hard to find the right place or community. Networking and finding a space is crucial.

Technology in Music:

Is immersive sound technology an interesting direction?

Diversification:

Festivals are struggling with how to get their message out effectively. Traditional print ads and social media ads are no longer as effective due to low trust in advertising.

Many music venues are diversifying their offerings out of necessity. This has become a key way to stay sustainable, but is it what’s needed? How can we focus on the core offer - grassroots music.

The Need for Connection & Wellbeing:

Despite challenges, there remains a deeply human need to connect through music. This connection is a powerful force for community building.

The Sound Lounge has cultivated a vital community that plays a critical role in loads of ways, including keeping doors open for this grassroots venue.

Grassroots venues are incredibly important for community wellbeing, acting as spaces for social connection and creativity.

Local Government Support:

Local government needs to be brought along on this journey. But how can we get them to actively support the cause?

The shift in consumer habits is significant: post-2000 generations engage with home entertainment more than pub culture.

After the panel discussion - I spoke briefly with the representative from the Music Venue Trust about a ticket levy proposal, aimed at large venues.

There’s a suggestion for a voluntary £1 ticket levy. If widely adopted, this could generate an estimated £20 million, which could be reinvested into the grassroots music ecosystem. This could be something to engage local and national politicians with. It provides local community benefit at no cost to government. You could write to your local MP and Councillors inviting them to engage with this - I’m going to.

Host and Speakers

I’ve copied the following from the event invitation.

The event was hosted by Lynsey Shaw

Lynsey Shaw began her career with chart success in the pop group Girls@Play and now fronts Urban Cookie Collective, performing at major European festivals. Her entrepreneurial ventures include the Electric Dolls, a Live Nation-backed festival act, and innovative projects in LA blending music, film, and storytelling. As a leader at Big Finish Recordings, she has helped pioneer immersive entertainment formats. Lynsey is a champion of artist-led change, particularly in response to structural challenges facing the live music industry.

Hannah White – Sound Lounge CIC

A critically acclaimed British singer-songwriter, Hannah White blends Americana, folk, and country with deeply personal storytelling. Her 2023 album Sweet Revolution, produced by Michele Stodart (The Magic Numbers), touches on themes of resilience, social justice, and personal growth, with collaborators like Beth Rowley and Ricky Ross. In January 2025, she received UK Artist and UK Album of the Year from the Americana Music Association UK. She is also a passionate advocate for grassroots venues and co-founder of Sound Lounge CIC, a live music space and social enterprise.

Gill Tee – Black Deer Festival / Black Deer Radio

With a background in radio and large-scale event production, Gill Tee has been a driving force in the UK music industry for decades. From launching Party in the Park with Capital Radio to creating the genre-celebrating Black Deer Festival, Gill has consistently championed Americana music and social impact. Through Black Deer Live and Black Deer Radio, she is expanding opportunities for emerging artists year-round. Her work with Supajam also reflects a long-standing commitment to youth empowerment through music education and experience.

Sophie Brownlee – External Affairs, Music Venue Trust

Sophie Brownlee leads on external affairs at Music Venue Trust, a UK charity dedicated to protecting, securing, and improving grassroots music venues. Her work focuses on advocacy, industry engagement, and policy change to ensure a sustainable future for grassroots music. Through campaigns and policy leadership, she helps amplify the voice of small venues at both national and local levels, ensuring they are recognised as vital cultural infrastructure.

Maarten Walraven – Music X / Symphony.live

At the intersection of music, tech, education, and community, Maarten Walraven is co-CEO of Symphony.live and a lecturer in music business at Utrecht University. He is also the editor of MUSIC x, a popular newsletter exploring innovation, audience engagement, and new models in music. His work is grounded in a belief that the right sound and story can connect people across any divide.

Once in a Lifetime : Patience and Repetition

Queen Mary's Park is a small area of mixed woods and open space located at the very edge of Carshalton, on the site of a former children's hospital. At first glance it is quite unassuming. Head down, you could march from one end of the park to another in a mere handful of minutes. I know, I've done this many times. I used to see the place as a stepping stone of green on the way to and from work.

More recently, my movement through this space has slowed, and the frequency of visits increased. As this happens, nature cautiously reveals itself to me. Stop for a minute or two - and see what happens. A Nuthatch on a silver birch just metres away. One, two, three Great Spotted Woodpeckers in the trees. Blackcaps singing while they ghost in and out of view. In the summer, Marbled Whites and Common Blue butterflies can be seen moving beautifully through the grass.

Male Blackcap in Queen Mary’s Park

There is always something going on. Often, when that something relates to birds, these happenings are led by sound, followed by curiosity. The other day I was craning my neck, looking up into a tall tree which has recently burst into leaf. The call of a greenfinch could clearly be heard - but the bird itself was invisible. Two people passed by and asked what I was looking for. I pointed out the distinctive call and we chatted for a minute or two, while the bird remained unseen.

I walked on, and as I crossed the park, I heard Blue Tits chattering loudly, urgently. I followed the sound and came to a small tree. The birds sounded distressed, and as I stood there, a peripheral movement caught my eye. Just to the right of the tree, a Sparrowhawk, partly obscured by branches and shadow. I thought it would fly off as soon as we made eye contact, but no. I then realised the hawk was eating a small bird, and though I was quite close by - a thicket between me and the hawk’s tree provided a sufficiently robust defence, preventing me from getting any closer. The Sparrowhawk continued to eat, keeping an occasional eye on me. We spent over fifteen minutes in each other's company before I moved on.

Male Sparrowhawk in Queen Mary’s Park

Nature is happening all the time, yet it has taken me fifty nine and a half years to find myself in this place, with this bird. Chances are I'll never get to experience such a close encounter with a hawk again. And yet, I keep wandering, and wondering.

Gathering and Reflecting

For several years I've been researching 'The Path*'. Observing, recording, documenting, and sometimes sharing my findings. When I say researching - I really mean just wandering about, noticing. In essence very similar to much of the consulting work I do, at least the interesting and useful stuff.

As this research continues I am realising a couple of things.

First - I am becoming more interested in specifics. For example - I've been logging information about butterfly sightings since 2022, but it's only this year I've decided to record not just what I've seen, but when and where. Slowly building more detailed ‘maps’ of my experience.

Second - I want to turn this research into something artful. Actually - it's more than a want - it's a need. Since I created my first fully handmade book last year, I've become fascinated with the idea of books as containers that may hold all kinds of....wonder. And so I'm currently conceiving ideas about how to combine my research and recordings into something 'publishable'. I put that word in speech marks because whatever artefact emerges from these ideas, it will contain hand made elements, and as such - publishing it will literally be a part of the process. I will use machines for reproducing photographs and writing, but some of the printing will be done by me, by hand, and I've other ideas I want to incorporate, watch this space as they say.

*The Path is in fact many paths. Mostly these paths are local to me, others further afield, all connected in some way.

And in case you are interested.

Photo 1: Comma, Queen Mary's Woodland 13th April 2025

Photo 2: Speckled Wood, Queen Mary's Woodland 13th April 2025

Weeknote 2025/08

Time Off…Sort Of

School’s out so Carole is off work, and I am too…sort of? My more regular work continues and because my hours are flexible I’m fitting it in and around more recreational and research based activity.

The Camera Eye

My camera is an essential part of my creative field research. I use it to ‘record’ observations and sightings. I’m slowly getting to grips with a new one. The zoom lens on my ageing Nikon 1 started failing several months ago. It’s been to and from the service centre several times, parts get replaced, sometimes it works, sometimes it stubbornly refuses. After a frustrating recent exchange where the camera failed to work in my hands, but did just fine when in for repair, we looked at other options. Thankfully I’ve had the same person helping me at Nikon the whole way through so they’ve shared the experience with me, and made me a very decent offer when it came to sourcing a replacement. Good customer serivce remember that eh? And so it came to pass I have a new camera. I’m very much in figuring things out mode - but even so - I am really chuffed with some of the recent work I’ve done.

Nikon : Where I’ve been v Where I’m Going

The Art of Books

I had a useful meeting with with a local college last week who are interested in commissioning some introductory bookbinding work from me. It’s early days and we’re figuring out how best to combine the skills I have with some of the courses students are exploring - poetry being one space where we can interestingly combine artforms.

In other news, I was successful in a recent pitch to take part in a Resilient Futures creative programme locally. This will involve me designing and delivering a zine making session - and the contents will have an artful wellbeing focus.

Watch this space as I develop these ideas and simultaneously consider how I incorporate bookish ideas into this year’s Open Studios. I have much to do.

Bookish Ideas

Weeknote 2025/07

Am I Coming Into View Or Disappearing?

Fox in partial shadow : Queen Mary’s Park, Carshalton

A few weeks ago (Weeknote 2025/04) I wrote about a conversation Nick Court and I had on the subject of momentum. Since then - I’ve kept that conversation in my mind, and continued to act on it, with intriguing results. I’m currently busier than I’ve been for a while - and I hesitate as I write that down - because busyness is a double edged sword.

Assessing

In my role as Programme Manager for Arts Network Sutton - I support our Vice Chair on our annual grants programme. We award a series of small grants to local creative practitioners to enable them to design and deliver impactful community focused work. My role in this is to read and assess the submissions, and as part of a panel, interview the applicants. We’re a small charity so we choose to make the time to interview as this process helps the artists bring their story to life, and helps us understand and question their process. We then evaluate all we’ve heard and learned, and make the tough decisions on which projects we can support in the coming year, and those we have to say no to. Everyone is given feedback once the decisions have been made. Importantly, those who are unsuccessful are told why. This is hard, labour intensive, worthwhile work. Most funders wouldn’t and/or couldn’t choose to do this, but we do.

Familiarising

In my new role with SACCO, I’m trying to get to grips with many things. Tech, process, culture, accountability, responsibility, communication and more. All this while the organisation does its thing with a level of familiarity I can currently only dream about. These early times can feel a bit disconcerting, and they’re also really useful for asking the kind of lovely questions that newness and a lack of understanding brings.

Cultivating and Weeding

In parallel with all the above, I’m also having good early conversations with several people about subjects like visual minutes, creative workshops, street art, and more. In among all this - Carole and I are part way through an attempt to reinvigorate a 30 square metre patch of weed, ivy, and bramble infested garden. Blending the mental with the physical is tiring and yet invigorating. Making progress, knowing when to take a break, adapting plans, we’re getting there. I’m loving this, and as momentum builds and continues, I need to make decisions about where to invest my precious time. Just like we are in the garden right now, I need to think about, and do more digging and weeding. I’ll leave it there for now - and close with a photo of another gardener I met this past week - this one was busy digging for his supper.

Green Woodpecker on Oaks Track, Carshalton

A Walk Of Two Halves

House Sparrow on Telegraph Track

Walking with Carole to her place of work : Two paths of peace separated by the endless thunder of a main road.

Within two minutes of leaving the house a great spotted woodpecker takes flight right in front of us, while a green woodpecker laughs - a sound so loud it could be sitting on my shoulder. 

Soon we leave the calm behind and we’re on the busy road . Birdsong is replaced by revving engines, groaning axles, and exhaust fumes. Everything is different. You can see hear smell and (unfortunately) taste it . Everyone’s in a hurry, no one’s going anywhere. 

Except us.

A gentle incline and we pick up the pace. As we leave the main road behind, rosy cheeked from our efforts,  somehow the skylark’s voice rises up from neighbouring fields across the road, and works its way through the traffic, easing us on our way. 

It’s quiet again, and pretty soon Carole and I part company. Returning to the racket. Nothing’s moving.

Except me.

Gridlock caused by roadworks and temporary lights which refuse to change colour. Beep your horn all you like mate - you’re not going anywhere, for a while at least.

With the noise behind me again, approaching the farm tracks I hear the greenfinch let go its familiar spring sigh. Goldfinches bob overhead, sparrows chat, and as the longtailed tit accompanies me down the lane I hear the woodpecker again.

Still laughing.

Weeknote 2025/06

Rejection v Not Getting Picked

I received the email from the Royal Academy informing me that after careful consideration, The Path, my submission to this year’s Summer Exhibition, has not been selected for the next stage. This is with regret…apparently. Does that last bit make me sound grumpy? I’m not - and aside from a fleeting tinge of disappointment, I move on.

I used to see these things as rejections - and when I did, they weighed much heavier. I know it’s only words, but framing something like this as ‘not getting picked’, helps lighten it, for me at least. Although unchosen, the book I submitted remains a fine piece of work, one of my best so far, I think. Conceived, designed, and constructed over several weeks it tells a story of the walk to work, both pictorially and topographically. I love it and the news from the RA frees me up to show this work at a couple of other exhibitions soon. Not getting picked has left me feeling flying high, and as one door closes…

New Beginnings

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about interviews, and so it has come to pass that I’ve started working with Sutton African Caribbean Cultural Organisation (SACCO). It’s no secret that my work has becoming increasingly community focused in recent years and I’m please to be able ot use my skills to work with interesting people doing interesting things in my neighbourhood. What is SACCO all about? SACCO aims to help people of African and Caribbean heritage of all ages to participate more fully in the local community, through a range of enrichment activities, delivered from an African and Caribbean perspective. SACCO aspires to build bridges across the culturally diverse communities in Sutton and the surrounding areas, by organising events and activities where people from all backgrounds and races can come together to celebrate, share and learn about each other in mutual respect.

I think this work will complement my programme management role at Arts Network Sutton nicely, and I’m curious to see how one influences the other.

For Better or Verse (Ouch!)

I’m continuing to lean into narrative and verse - you may have seen one or two pieces emerge on here recently. I love how when you focus on something - it often starts showing itself more often, and as I’ve continued to write, both about work and nature, I’ve been seeing and hearing a lot more of this interesting character.

Green Woodpecker

The green woodpecker is a stunning, often nervous bird. Of late I’m often hearing its laughing call and spotting it rooting around for its main diet of ants. I took this photo - it pushed my old tired camera to the limit but soon I will have a new piece of kit with which I hope to supplement my field recordings to a better standard. Watch this space.

I’m also making some slow progress on my fledgling book idea - combining writing, photography, and hand printed work. A halfway house between a fully handmade book and a machine made one. I’ve chatted with a local printer, and now I need to assemble a mock up which I plan to start work on in the next couple of weeks.

Cold Bright & Quiet

I say goodbye to Carole, and begin the walk home. It’s cold, bright and quiet, and the first thing to break the silence is a jay, calling from high in a tree. I wander on - less attentive for a while, until the unmistakeable call of the greenfinch brings me back into focus. It’s up there! Just the other side of the hedge, a bright green signal in the sun, then it’s off across the fields.

I turn onto the farm tracks, shoulders relaxing, pace slowing. As I approach a bend in the lane - everything happens at once, and in a ten second space of time I see and hear, greenfinch, chaffinch, blackbird, blue tit, kestrel, dunnock, robin, and the familiar laugh of the green woodpecker. I feel like I could stand here forever, sights and sounds to die for, but the moment passes and I carry on.

The tracks are peaceful, just me, the birds, one or two walkers, a van and a car. The van passes considerately, and the car is driven dangerously fast down the narrow lane. It always is - and now I’m familiar with it I can be safely out of the way in good time.

With that done, the peace returns, and I wander on, pigeons and magpies keeping watch. I’m almost at the end of the track when something precious flashes in front of me. A pair of goldfinches stop briefly about a metre away. I marvel at their beauty, and they wonder why on earth is this old man staring at us? Before things get awkward they depart, and I finish my walk, noticing the buds of a magnolia - straining into pink.

Written immediately on arrival back at the house this morning, in the hope I capture something of the essence of the walk.

Weeknote 2025/05

Mind The Gap

Often - things fragment, and work becomes less of a defined path, more a series of spinning plates. Something I notice after 16 years of freelancing, is that often these plates relate to different projects and ideas - they all need a tap, a bit of momentum, but they all spin in slightly different directions. I’ve had a busy week, and it’s been in pursuit of many small things. Important but not particularly noteworthy perhaps? This sense of things shifting, having multiple directions, can feel a bit disconcerting, and it often opens up space and time for something else to appear…

Revisiting : Reappearing

Last Summer I undertook my first artist residency at The Hide, in Gloucestershire. It was a fascinating experience - opening my mind to the artfulness of nature in a location unfamiliar to me, and helping me appreciate our part in the environment in ways I’d not previously considered.

Kestrel hovering over Rodborough Common

I spent my time walking, conversing, writing, photographing, and threw in a bit of very basic print making for good measure. I didn’t use my car once while away - I did as much as I could the slow way, on foot, taking my time. Observing, recording.

Found Objects : Cyanotype and relief printing.

I wrote about the experience here, and I remember I got very excited about how all this wonderful input was suddenly, even urgently, going to fuel new work. I benefitted from two mentoring sessions while away - and during the second of these, towards the end of my residency, I enthused about how this immersive experience would instantly reveal itself on my arrival home. Exhibitions, books, prints, you name it. I was gently encouraged not to rush, instead to let the experience reverberate, wash over and around me - and see what slowly emerges. And relax.

On my last night away - I stumbled onto the fact that the poet WH Davies lived and died in a house nearby to where I was staying, at the foot of a steep hill in the hamlet of Watledge. I decided to visit the place, and as I left, the rain started, and quickly became a downpour. There are two routes to Watledge from where I was staying. The first is a precipitous path, and having skittered dangerously down it in the rain a couple of times, I decided instead, to take the longer route by road. As I walked the rain became heavier, and as I carefully descended the hill I could see rain pouring from the sky, and flowing past my feet as it rushed relentlessly down the steep hill. I approached the house and as I did so - the rain coming off the hill increased in volume and it literally picked me up under my feet and slid me straight past the house. Somehow I managed to stay upright and clamber back, as the downpour obligingly ceased. I stood outside the house and admired this memorial plaque.

Memorial plaque outside the home of WH Davies, in Watledge

I returned home from my adventures, and sure enough, the exhibition and much of what I enthused about, has yet to materialise. I have continued to work on my bookbinding skills, and my writing and photography too, and in recent days it has dawned on me how I will take some of these discoveries found last summer, on into 2025 and beyond. In the first instance - I will design and bring a new book into the world. A book, partly handmade, partly machine printed. A book which I hope will capture the essence of slowly and carefully observing the beautiful minutiae of life. After all - ‘what is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare’. Thanks go to WH Davies, to Alice, who runs The Hide where I stayed, to all the people who indulged this stranger in conversation, to Carole for kindly agreeing to let me spend our wedding anniversary adventuring miles away, and to Arts Network Sutton for funding this essential adventure.

Current Artful Adventures

Back to the present day - I want to mention three creative things I experienced last week, which I encourage you to check out, if you can.

Art and Mental Health

I popped into Bethlem Gallery to admire the art in their new collection and to pick up a copy of a new zine, a collaborative art project titled MISC. Bethlem Gallery is an important place doing important work at the intersection of art, mental health, and more. It’s based near Beckenham on the edges of South London and I recommend you visit.

A montage of the art currently on show at Bethlem Gallery

Rock n Roll Public Library (RRPL)

RRPL is an amazing exhibition of punk and pop memorabilia and ephemera, curated from a much larger collection assembled by Mick Jones, guitarist and songwriter par excellence. It’s a visual and sonic feast in a pop up space on Flitcroft Street. It’s free to enter and open until March 22nd - 12pm to 7pm daily. Get your skates on!

Black Is The Color Of My Voice

Wow!! Carole managed to get us seats for this amazing performance at the equally amazing Wilton’s Music Hall. Black Is The Color Of My Voice is inspired by the life of Nina Simone and features many of her most iconic songs performed live by Nicholle Cherrie, in this powerful one woman play, written by Apphia Campbell. Experiencing this performance was one of those rare occasions when time stands still - a completely engrossing experience. The play is currently touring - and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

What next?

I’m starting a new project this week - and first I need to settle down and assess some grant applications. This is tough, careful work, and tomorrow I find out if my submission to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition has been shortlisted. Watch this space.

Weeknote 2025/04

Momentum : Keeping things moving.

I was included in an invite for an HR Curry last Tuesday, adeptly organised by the very kind Nick Court. Nick is a lovely guy to be around, and he I chatted over dinner about momentum, after I explained I am feeling refocused and currently being more proactive. Nick talked about moving forward, not always in a hurry, not always in huge strides, but moving. He likened this to how certain species of shark need to keep moving forward in order to keep breathing and stay alive. I’m no shark - but the point was well made.

When it comes to keeping things moving I’m noticing changes both in spotting and responding to opportunities for work. I’m trying to figure out what good productive labour looks like, and for me - increasingly it needs to have community at the heart.

Pre covid I traveled quite a lot for work. I enjoyed it and it takes a toll, and it’s environmentally unstable too. Post covid - much of my work has a more local flavour, and while I remain open to the possibilities of traveling further to do good work - that’s significantly less of a motivating factor for me now. So it came to pass that I’ve had 2 more interviews for work projects this week, 1 didn’t go any further, and 1 did. Let’s get the unsuccessful attempt out of the way first.

Interviews

Last year I studied at The Art Academy - and I really enjoyed it, so when they advertised for someone to manage their portfolio of short course - I applied and was invited for an interview. Had this developed, it would have marked a significant shift for me workwise - as the role is full time five days a week in London. My excellent friend Meg Peppin met me at Terry’s Cafe (a superb place to eat) before the interview and we chatted usefully about how things might unfold. The Art Academy had sent me some data which they’d asked me to consider and discuss how I might use it to make changes. I liked this approach. I enjoyed chatting with Meg about this - and I enjoyed talking some ideas and questions through with the people interviewing me. They chose not to go any further with me but they got some excellent free consulting, and that’s fine. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve become quite glad this didn’t proceed.

That second interview I mentioned also went well and this one will see me doing some work with a local charity, Sutton African Caribbean Cultural Organisation. I am really excited about this work - it will expose me to aspects of local culture in our borough that I am keen to know much more about, and my skills are an excellent match for the work the charity needs help with, so I’m confident this is going to be a great fit for both of us. Things are developing nicely - but what else is going on?

Supporting Sutton Community Farm

I’ve had a relationship with our fantastic local farm since it opened in 2010, a blend of work and volunteering. I’m lending a hand for a few weeks with delivery driving - while a regular driver is away. This sees me carefully packing a van full of lovely veggies, bread, eggs, etc - and tootling off to Catford, Blackheath, Lee, and Lewisham. It amazes me that a tiny urban farm in Wallington has customers right into London. I like this work because there’s a lot of customer interaction - people pleased to see me - and I like being a public face of the farm. It’s tempting to badge this kind of work as ‘menial’, but I think that’s unfair. In the case of Sutton Community Farm - they make me feel like I’m part of the team - doing important work. I think a lot of us could learn from their approach.

Grants

I’m the Programme Manager for a local arts charity, Arts Network Sutton, and we closed the application window on our 2025 grants programme on Friday. This is important work for us - supporting local artists to design and deliver creative work that bring real benefit to resident in our Borough. It’s tough work too - carefulyl and fairly assessing everyone’s good ideas - knowing we won’t be able to fund all of them. We’ll get stuck into the job of assessing applications very soon - I can’t wait to see what people have proposed this time around.

Wandering

With everything else going on I’m a little surprised I’ve walked on average, just over 11.5km a day for the past week. Being outdoors is vital for me. Time in nature is never a waste and I appreciate giving myself time to think too. Out and about this week I had a feeling I was being watched…

Little Owl on an ash tree along Telegraph Track

After this wonderful sighting I got home and wrestled a poem of sorts onto paper.

Looking At You

I live in the ash tree

Down the end of the lane

And on a fine day

If you approach just right

Look carefully

Wait patiently

You might find me

Sunning myself

Scanning the hedgerows

Just like you’re scanning my tree

I was lookin' back to see

If you were lookin' back at me

To see me lookin' back at you
(with apologies to Massive Attack)

Time To Go

It would be remiss of me not to mark the passing of one of punk’s true pioneers. Brian James - founder of The Damned, died last week aged 70. His time with the band was brief but iconic - James wrote pretty much all of the first two albums before leaving the band to pursue other musical interests. I didn’t see him perform with the band in that first incarnation - but I did get to a reunion gig in 2022 where the original line up played together for a short tour.

Brian James featured in a piece of art I made for ‘Cut, Spray and Pray’, a stencil art exhibition in Peterborough. Each artist submitted up to three pieces and I chose the theme of Identity for my work. All three pieces were sprayed onto old vinyl LPs and I chose a version of The Damned’s first album cover as one of my submissions.

Damned Damned Damned - single layer stencil and spray paint on vinyl.

Coincidentally - Nick Court has a copy of this design after he spotted it online.

That’s it for another weeknote - other than to say I’ve seen my first butterflies of 2025 in recent days. Several Brimstones, and this morning I spotted this Peacock sunbathing. <3

Laughing Down The Lane

Turning a walk to work into a poem.

Carole spots a redwing, barely a metre away

A striking beauty

The drill of the great spotted woodpecker 

Industrious nature

An exhaled sigh of a greenfinch from its familiar tree, and then another

I can’t help but feel uplifted when I hear that red listed call

The sparrows chat incessantly

And in the breaks, a robin’s beautiful song fills the sky

On the wire, the slightest movement caught my eye

As a kestrel gently airs its wings 

And all the while, unseen in the distance, a green woodpecker calls, calls, calls

Laughing down the lane

A green woodpecker - blending in perfectly with its surroundings. I spotted this one in the garden.

Week Note 2025/03

When the world feels like it’s collapsing, where should we look for hope? Geopolitics is so fragile right now. Trump is a fascist, a white supremacist, a convicted felon, a proven liar - yet somehow he’s currently (dis)gracing The White House - the American people, and hey - just about everybody else too. With this as a backdrop, what have I been up to?

Architecture, Design, Connections

I spent Tuesday in a less familiar part of London - appreciating some street art around Whitecross Street, and some stunning design work too. I caught up with Mark Catchlove at the stunning new Miller Knoll showroom right by St John’s gate. I’ve not seen Mark for a while - and I was welcomed like an old friend.

After taking in a mix of fascinating history and contemporary design, we made our way towards Soho together for the launch of a new book by Gary Cookson, titled ‘Making Hybrid Working Work’. The launch event was interesting to me for two reasons. First - the content and the discussion, and second, though definitely more important, the connections made with several good people who I’ve not seen for a very long time.

Post covid, I’ve drifted into a habit of keeping myself much more to myself - and I was genuinely uplifted by how many people welcomed me, and spent time with me. I’m often my own worst enemy; a client once called me ‘terminally self deprecating’. Harsh, but at times fair. I always knew this excursion would be enjoyable and useful - and it was far more than that. This time spent with good people feels like it has really unlocked something in me. If you’ve been feeling a bit withdrawn lately - I get it - and maybe after reading this - you’ll feel motivated to reconnect with good people you know too?

Mark Catchlove and yours truly - taken at Gary Cookson’s book launch. Photo © Mark Catchlove

The Seeker

I’ve been largely ‘gigging’ for work since 2009, and while this has undoubtedly provided me with some amazing opportunities - it’s a way of working that can often feel quite relentless. Blending delivery of work to a really high standard, with an almost constant need to seek out more, takes a toll.

After my cousin Audrey died in 2023, I took on the responsibility of dealing with her affairs. I was happy to do this - and it required my attention, focus, and effort, to the extent that other work slowed somewhat. Once my work as executor (a horrible term for a really important job that needs kindness and patience) was done, the reluctant, more withdrawn version of myself struggled to move on.

In addition to more conscious reconnecting with people, I’m being much more intentional about seeking out work, and I’m pleased to say that two new projects have come my way this week. One is a small seed, from which something interesting may or may not grow. The other is bigger, and potentially more regular too. Both projects have community at their heart - and that suits me fine.

Talking of Community…

We have a splendid venue here in Sutton - The Sound Lounge. It’s a safe welcoming place to eat, drink, listen, laugh, and much more. This week, they organised a multi-faith & community gathering. I went along representing myself and Arts Network Sutton, our local arts charity. We heard excellent stories from around 14 different groups - all doing good work in the borough. People came along and shared in a way that encouraged us all to welcome and celebrate opinions, beliefs, and leanings different to our own, and to appreciate the power of conversation.

I feel fortunate to live in a place where this is happening - it is much needed.

Being in Nature

In what has been a pretty hectic week - I also found time to get out and talk with the birds. We have a tree on a nearby farm track where I often stop to chat - and the song thrush was extremely happy to oblige with some beautiful conversation.

Week Note 2025/02

How late is too late? Better late than never? Who knows - and given that it’s ‘only’ been 8 days since the last one in this fledgling weeknote run - I’m not going to beat myself up about it (much).

Working With Uncertainty

I ran a workshop this week. The theme was ‘The Returning Light Of Spring’, playing with a sense of renewal. However, as we began experimenting with unfamiliar materials (my invitation to the group included working with ink and bleach), it quickly became much more about going with the flow - letting go of expectations.

Take a look at some of the amazing art that emerged from the session. Not everything ‘worked’ but we had time to try and try again and I think you’ll agree our persistence paid off.

Thanks to all our creative guests and our wonderful hosts at The Sun. We’re back again on March 18th, with a session blending some Chinese calligraphy with our own Chinese Zodiac animals. I’ve been asked to being the ink and bleach along again. Feel free to join us.

Ecocide on The River Wandle

Back in 2015 I sold the first piece of art on my Etsy shop. It was a quick sketch of a kingfisher, observed as a rare chance encounter on The River Wandle. In the ten years since I made that piece - my kingfisher sightings along the river have increased - and they are always joyful encounters - a positive sign of the interconnected nature systems in our neighbourhood.

The River Wandle, our precious, rare chalk stream is once again under attack from humans. This week it’s not the water companies discharging raw sewage, but a 4,000 litre diesel leak instead.

Like so many of us who enjoy much of what this fascinating river has to offer - I’m upset and angry - and experiencing a deep sadness too.

Right now, I can't bring myself to walk the riverbank with which I've become so familiar over the years. I dread to think how the many species of birds, plants, fish, animals, and invertebrates are coping with the disaster we’ve unleashed. The South East River Trust have a crowdfunder to help raise money to assess and try to right some of the damage - if you feel able to suport this important work - you can do so here.

Stylised kingfisher stencil on hardwood ply.

Decluttering

Carole has had the last week off work - and we decided to finally get stuck into Project Loft. We’ve been in our house since 2007 and much of the crap important stuff we stored up in the loft on our arrival - has remained untouched. In the meantime, the people who replaced our loft made a huge mess up there - everything has been covered in dust and debris which has made this huge task seem even more daunting.

After more hours than I care to mention - we’ve carefully removed much of the mess, and at the same time - gone through boxes unopened for almost 20 years, and sorted through everything. We’re keeping some stuff, selling some, donating some, and we’ve taken two full car loads to the recycling centre. It’s been filthy messy work - but we’ve made great progress and rediscovered some important things along the way. It was a particularly poignant moment when I reacquainted myself with my late great grandfather, who died fighting in WWI.

Private George Low. Killed in action in France on 13th November 1916 right at the end of the Battle of The Somme.