walking with summer

2013

Activist

artist

activist artist

Artist activist

Artist as activist

activist as artist

activist art

art activist

this is some of what I have been doing for over a year now

where is the meeting point of creativity, challenging injustice and working in solidarity?

Over the last year these lines have become very fuzzy, there have been ‘private’ and intense moments of response;

my art practice is changing

Walking on beach in freezing temperature

life artactivisim

Walking in fields

making videos in fields

Motherhood

dancing in city centre

Drawing

sketching

writing

Reclaim the Night march

listening to stories

One Billion Rising

helping to create a safe joyous space for women

listening to womens stories

worskhops for children

workshops for children with different abilities

Artists Against the Cuts

Save our Services

working in schools

storytelling

making a unique board game with children

Emily Davison Wilding centenary celebrations

walking on beaches

walking on headlands

a soiree for artists interested in Improvisation

Walking, leading a group improv. re drawing, writing, working with colour inthe woods

Performance in Stand up to Sexism gig

Death

Helping to organise an annual Feminist Gathering

grieving

walking in the woods

writing for myself

writing in response

watching seeds

videoing

managing money

managing debt

Waiting

Waiting for the seeds of doubt to fall

waiting for my face to smile

waiting

watering the growing

watering the shouting

watering the tears

arms hold my soul

the weight of love

Remembering standing still, in layers, omelettes of snow. waiting for listening to catch up with my senses.

Walking in summer. Warm winds dance out the seeds of rose bay willow herb in the evening light. they move, turn, stop, become arrested with currents and I gaze amazed and i awe of these tiny dancing freedom fighters for their next life. literally throwing themselves i the wind. dumb struck with the beauty of the wind which the seeds give a brush to. arrested i try to take in through my senses the conjuring, the trick of life.

My hips lengthen into the dirt, they swing into the earth. walking is different here, there is lingering, watching , listening, waiting. spreading my watching through the skin. the pulse of my breath acknowledges muscle and fibre and tissue stretching, reaching to be part of the landscape. to be. to be there. and no where else.