Easter Monday
In the city there's a thousand things...
Hello,
It’s been quite a while – a lot longer than expected but I’m back here again. In the last few months, we got through our first Christmas without my dad, our family home was finally sold and I had glandular fever in February. I’m still recovering, so having to be careful about energy levels, which has put the kibosh on a lot of writing project plans and various other endeavours.
I’ve had moments of fierce writing but otherwise had to have a LOT of periods of what Brene Brown calls white noise space – time to recover from everything that has happened in the last few years. I’ve had physical and mental burnout, especially from the rate of change in 2024. Things moved far too fast but now we are in one place, there is time to slow down and take stock. My fitness has suffered but I’m walking again and that will help everything – luckily it always does.
On the Winter Solstice I had an unexpected free day – we were meant to be travelling to see dear friends in Bristol but my son wasn’t well, so we stayed at home instead. I spent the afternoon walking down to Thames Ditton, down the river from where we live now, walking around the village and walking back again. Several joy-filled hours of drifting, noseying and documenting with photos and notes.
Eventually this turned into a poem, the only finished poem I’ve written in quite a while. This in turn became part of one of Kel Portman’s films of curated walking art responding to the yearly solstices and equinoxes. You can watch this below. It's always great to be part of one of these thought-provoking and diverse range of wonderful work made by walking artists from various locations in the Uk and farther afield.
I have two distinct walking art projects which are just getting going now, both long term, and one other, which is Amniotic City related. I’m aiming to be in London one day a week, walking and writing and getting to art galleries, book shops and other haunts. One day a week of connection with the City. It’s been a bit hit and miss with the recovery from glandular fever which has left me with serious fatigue but I’m hoping this is getting to be more manageable now.
I’ll be aiming to write more about this. I realised the second edition of Amniotic City was published nearly two years ago in September. Apart from a two-part writing work shop with the Magickal Women’s Salons and a launch as part of one of the Writers’ Kingston events, I didn’t get a chance to do any of the other events and workshops I had hoped to do. I was looking after my son and my dad at that point and there was no time for anything else. I hope I can begin to remedy this now by writing about Amniotic City, and offering a walk or two later this year and maybe next year. There is much more to say and new things to say. At some point in the future my London writing will cease and I will move on to other places and spaces…but not yet.
I am getting back to what I like to do best – which is a great relief. Much more about all of these to come as the new and continuing projects bear fruit and gather pace. In the meantime there are of course, other things to write about, which have been happening in the slim gaps between moving house, and dealing with the continuing fall-out of the intense grief of losing my dad.
Setting Sundays has always been intended as a space for setting weekly intentions for writing, creativity and well-being. Hmmm…. There has been not much of that here, and with everything happening my own writing and wellbeing practice has been very much played out offline. Without daily journaling and walking by the river (when I’ve been well enough) I’m not sure how I would have got through the last year.
I’ve barely been able to be creative in my usual manner, as I’ve had so many other practical and emotional hurdles to jump – there’s been hardly any headspace for it. I’ve had to trust that creative space would come back. It’s been worrying – I’ve thought at times I would never write again. I had to give up and let it be what it has been and accept it. A very difficult, very frustrating but also powerful process. I think I’ve learned a huge amount from it and I’m still ruminating and reflecting on it. There are gifts from all of these things if we can allow them to be what they are. Which is easier said than done.
This week my intention is to write here again. I’ll also be walking in London one day this week. And today I’m off walking near another part of the Thames.
How about you? I’d love to know what your intentions are for this week. How will you be creative? Do you have projects going on? How do you feel about creative headspace – is there something you recommend for getting into a good space to be creative? Please let me know in the comments.
Good to know you're on the mend Lucy!
My intention for this week is to make progress on Substack as, you'll probably see from my Notes, I moved home last week, from England to Scotland and I'd love to make new friends in the area. It seems like there's a strong writer community in Edinburgh, and the city is a manageable train ride away for me.
So, I hope you get to make some wonderful words this week, and walk delightful walks, and keep well.
Spring is here. The sunshine always helps.