Finding Ella Harding

Last Tuesday was our first session at Brambles Care Home in Wye, where we introduced some of the residents to ‘Finding Ella Harding’  - which is a Heritage Lottery funded project being run by Jasper from Funder Films CIC.

Ella Harding was a teenager living in Wye during the First World War, and she kept a diary of the war by sticking newspaper clippings into exercise books, and writing accounts of what happened during the conflict. When she turned sixteen she volunteered at the aerodrome in the village where she spent her time mending planes.

I’m running four creative writing sessions with the residents to give them the opportunity to use the Ella’s diary as inspiration for writing, and to link some of the diary entries to their own lives.

During the war newspapers often published inspirational, patriotic poems, and Ella included some of these in her diaries. On Tuesday we read Big Boy Blue and War Girls by Jessie Pope.

War Girls talks about all the roles that women carried out during the war. It’s somehow comforting to think that despite the horrors of the war, something good came from it, as it was the first time women were able to take on roles that had traditionally been for men, and I wonder how different the world would be without that step forward.

A Tale of Two Labyrinths: Part 2

After our time at the UKC labyrinth we began the descent into town and out the other side to the CCCU labyrinth.

The Eliot path from the Uni led into a maze of alleys and pathways through town. I’ve lived relatively locally all my life and didn’t even know these green paths existed. Canterbury has well-hidden treasures. Half way, at the Beaney, we stopped for much needed refreshments, then continued our journey. Throughout the day I was reminded how much I really like walking when I have good company, and the people around me were all so interesting to talk and listen to.

We reached the CCCU labyrinth where I realised that labyrinths have their own personality, and can elicit different responses. This one was a classical labyrinth mown into the grass, and had a playful feel about it. Without even thinking about it, I took my shoes off so I could walk it barefoot, and noticed other people were doing the same.

Whereas the first labyrinth walk had been quiet and thoughtful, here people were running, dancing, talking and laughing their way around. The grass tickled my toes as I walked and I found I had a huge smile on my face. We ate our picnic lunch and chatted some more, about labyrinths, Canterbury, writing, life, the universe, and everything really.

Then began my third walk of the day.

I thought where my car was parked would be just round the corner, but googlemaps told me I was twenty minutes away. I planned a route and three of us began the trek.

At one point, we thought maps had lied, that this road was a dead end, and while we were deciding what to do we discovered the ‘St Augustine’s Conduit House’ –  a kind of 13th century mini-reservoir for St Augustine’s Abbey. It collected rainwater for the monks. This conduit was used right up until the 19th Century, although after the abbey was dissolved, it supplied a local brewery. Another hidden gem of Canterbury!

Maps hadn’t lied, it wasn’t a dead end – we followed an alley, climbed a metal stile (so wrong, stiles should be wooden!) then reached my car, and headed home for much needed tea. Physically exhausted, but mentally recharged. Thanks everyone :)

A Tale of Two Labyrinths: Part 1

Sunday morning arrived and I was faced with a dilemma before I’d even cleaned my teeth. It looked hot and sunny, but I don’t trust the Kentish weather. It often has a mind of its own, and I usually subscribe to the ‘layers’ strategy.

However, today I was doing a long walk, and carrying my lunch, so layers weren’t really an option – if it stayed as hot as it was now, I didn’t want to be lugging a cardi and coat around.

In the end, I decided to be brave, just took a hoody, and wore a summer dress to deal with the heat, but did pack a pair of leggings ‘just in case’.

So, after my very serious first world dilemma was sorted,  and after some jiggery pokery with travel and parking, I arrived at the labyrinth hidden away behind Eliot College.

Eleven of us had come together to walk the two labyrinths, it was gorgeous weather, and very peaceful on the hill up above Canterbury.

I stepped onto the stone path of the labyrinth, and took a breath, somewhat reassured by Jan Sellers reminder that you can’t do this wrong, just walk it as you feel is right. I’m a bit of a power walker and I expected to walk quickly, expected to find myself overtaking people.

But a strange thing happened, after the first few strides, I slowed right down, I started paying minute attention to the stone path, the pebbles and twigs, the leaves, the ants, the sun reflecting of parts of the path. I lost track of time while I was walking. It felt like I had permission to take my time, because what I was doing felt like it had a purpose.

The labyrinth walk was very quiet, people seemed focussed, and I became aware of a kind of labyrinth etiquette that stopped me waving and grinning to people as our paths converged. After walking, people sat quietly afterwards, some people wrote, and there was some murmured conversation.

Then we set off to reach Labyrinth Number 2, at CCCU’s Priory…

To be continued…

Farewell to Hut 136

On Sunday the sun set on Hut 136 at the end of a wonderful two weeks.

This time has given me space to breathe. The first week I had Swedish Quilt Artist Tamara Schultz with me for company, we spent lots of time throwing creative ideas backwards and forwards, diving into imaginative ‘what ifs?’ designing artists’ books, and chatting about the inconsequential everyday stuff that is actually very important. I also ran the ‘Write on the Beach’ workshop, which you can read about below.

The second week, after Tamara had gone, was more about quiet reflection and free writing. Staring out to sea, out towards that distant horizon, I could feel my brain begin to unwind and stretch into new directions. I spent time free writing, just scribbling without worrying about shaping things into ‘poetry’, and I now have a lot of raw material that maybe I can polish. It almost doesn’t matter, I can feel space in my head for ideas to grow and evolve, and that was what I really needed.

I’d like to say a huge thank you to People United for the use of their hut, it has been a truly treasured experience.

Write on the beach

I spent Thursday evening finishing planning for Write on the Beach on Friday morning, all the time looking anxiously at the sky and hoping the next day would be sunny. I'd looked at the size of Hut 136 and figured we could only fit everyone in with some serious lap sitting, and that wouldn't help with the writing.

But I needn't have worried, it was a gorgeous day, eight people came along to take part and we sat on the pebbles, listened to the sea and gulls, wrote poetry and drank tea.

There is always something magical about writing in groups, there's a certain energy that inspires creativity, and often pushes us to write in directions we wouldn't usually.  People produced beautiful, thoughtful writing, and hopefully have nuggets they can craft into finished poems.

The beach is my favourite place to write, there's something about the openness, the space, and the ever changing nature of the sea, that just inspires me. And sharing that with everyone yesterday was fantastic. 

So, thanks to everyone who came along to write, I'll try and do another one sometime soon.

Talking Trees - Tree trail launch

On Sunday I was lucky enough to take part in the launch of the Talking Trees tree trail at the Westgate Gardens. It was pretty cold and miserable when we arrived to set up, but later in the morning the sun came out and it turned into a gorgeous day.

The sunshine brought lots of people to the park, including residents from Cranmer House and a minibus full from AgeUK, many of whom explored the new tree trail and took part in the free workshops.

I had lots of fun seeing all ages of people create wonderful pebble poems. Parents read  words to small children, bigger children sounded out the words, grown-ups joined in, families worked together, and one little girl fitted as many pebbles into her frame as possible, a whole heap of words waiting to be spoken.

You can read more about the Talking Trees project here.

First visit to Ty Newydd

Last weekend I took part in a course at Ty Newydd. It’s the National Writing Centre of Wales, and it was the first time I’ve been there. It’s an amazing place, you can just feel the literary energy running through it.

I love Wales, especially the Snowdonia area, and it made my day when I saw that I could combine going there with doing a really great looking course. So we spent eight hours travelling, eight hours of traffic, motorways, accidents and encouraging my dogs to pee at service stations, then finally arriving. And then at the end of the course, the same in reverse to get home.

But it was worth it. The course was Poetry and Dementia, led by John Killick and Karen Hayes who are both inspirational and full of knowledge. They shared their expertise around working creatively with people living with dementia, and gave me loads of wonderful ideas and insights to use in my own work. 

The other people on the course were all so lovely, and I just have to use the word inspirational again, everyone was so passionate about what they do. And it was just such a treat to have the opportunity to talk so much about poetry, it so rarely happens in everyday life. I came away with new friends and a list of writers to explore more.

It’s reminded me how important these kinds of courses are, and how important it is to connect to other writers. I’m now trying to work out what I can do next.