Thank you, Wendy, for your honest and insightful exploration of the space where words emerge, the subtle feelings and ephemeral ideas that hover at the periphery of consciousness. Your essay attunes me to my own creative process, and encourages me to explore those misty realms.
This came at just the right time for me Wendy in my creative journey. I’m now going to pull out and dust off the box of rocks and stones that I still have from my Dad’s house, the ones I kept, that I didn’t take and throw back into rivers and streams or drop into the centre of old stone walls - to handle the remaining ones again and see if there are places they can sit in my life, and be beautiful, and useful. They were his pilgrim badges from his travels far and wide, and might help me to resurface his spirit as I resurface his words. Thank you for the inspiration!
Thank you so much for this generous insight into your creative process Wendy, I loved reading about it. I relate very much to your feelings about poems beginning with 'the feeling of something settling, or falling into place' and to finding ways in which we can channel that by putting ourselves in physical situations as well as having sensory reminders (like your photo mood board). I have a collection of items on my desk which remind me of certain moments and feelings that I want to explore in my memoir and poetry and seeing them there every day, touching them, holding them, helps place me right back in that time.
I loved reading this from start to finish. You so beautiful articulated what is (almost) impossible to put into words. Thank you for sharing glimmers of your process. I got carried away with similar thoughts and writing this last little while (of the mystery of what happens before the words) so I delighted in reading this xx
Thank you so much for this Wendy. I live near to a salt route that leads up to an iron age fort, into the back of Blenheim Palace and on to the old road (now partly a Hollow Way that Henry Vlll and Elizabeth lst travelled over to get to the old Palace). The road includes a section that goes up and over a long barrow and each time I reach that part and step into the Beech Woodland that has established on top of the Barrow it’s like I’ve stepped through a portal and I ‘hear’ women laughing and talking down by the river. It is such a layered, potent area of life across thousands of years, that feels important to what I want to write about finding ‘home’ and belonging (and being accepted) in a landscape and reading about your process that is similar to mine has really helped clarify my thoughts and helped me ‘trust’ in my creative process💕
Thank you, Wendy, for your honest and insightful exploration of the space where words emerge, the subtle feelings and ephemeral ideas that hover at the periphery of consciousness. Your essay attunes me to my own creative process, and encourages me to explore those misty realms.
You are very welcome Josie. 'Misty realms' I like that.
This came at just the right time for me Wendy in my creative journey. I’m now going to pull out and dust off the box of rocks and stones that I still have from my Dad’s house, the ones I kept, that I didn’t take and throw back into rivers and streams or drop into the centre of old stone walls - to handle the remaining ones again and see if there are places they can sit in my life, and be beautiful, and useful. They were his pilgrim badges from his travels far and wide, and might help me to resurface his spirit as I resurface his words. Thank you for the inspiration!
This is just beautiful. I like the continuity of the connections.
Thank you so much for this generous insight into your creative process Wendy, I loved reading about it. I relate very much to your feelings about poems beginning with 'the feeling of something settling, or falling into place' and to finding ways in which we can channel that by putting ourselves in physical situations as well as having sensory reminders (like your photo mood board). I have a collection of items on my desk which remind me of certain moments and feelings that I want to explore in my memoir and poetry and seeing them there every day, touching them, holding them, helps place me right back in that time.
Thank you Philippa. Physically touching an object is a strong sensory link, isn't it.
I loved reading this from start to finish. You so beautiful articulated what is (almost) impossible to put into words. Thank you for sharing glimmers of your process. I got carried away with similar thoughts and writing this last little while (of the mystery of what happens before the words) so I delighted in reading this xx
Thank you Jane x
Thank you so much for this Wendy. I live near to a salt route that leads up to an iron age fort, into the back of Blenheim Palace and on to the old road (now partly a Hollow Way that Henry Vlll and Elizabeth lst travelled over to get to the old Palace). The road includes a section that goes up and over a long barrow and each time I reach that part and step into the Beech Woodland that has established on top of the Barrow it’s like I’ve stepped through a portal and I ‘hear’ women laughing and talking down by the river. It is such a layered, potent area of life across thousands of years, that feels important to what I want to write about finding ‘home’ and belonging (and being accepted) in a landscape and reading about your process that is similar to mine has really helped clarify my thoughts and helped me ‘trust’ in my creative process💕
How wonderful. All those layers and you on the top peeling them back. Thanks for sharing!