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I'm not making many objects at the moment but I am making space to make them in the future.

But first I must deal with old textured paint, now peeling off,that was randomly applied by the previous owner to all available surfaces.The plaster's not in great shape underneath. 

#mapmaking
#founddrawings
#diy

I'm not making many objects at the moment but I am making space to make them in the future.

But first I must deal with old textured paint, now peeling off,that was randomly applied by the previous owner to all available surfaces.The plaster's not in great shape underneath. 

#mapmaking
#founddrawings
#diy

I'm not making many objects at the moment but I am making space to make them in the future.

But first I must deal with old textured paint, now peeling off,that was randomly applied by the previous owner to all available surfaces.The plaster's not in great shape underneath. 

#mapmaking
#founddrawings
#diy

Beech trees, Killerton Estate, near Exeter.

"Crescunt illae; crescant amores. - As these letters grow, so may our love." *This Roman proverb refers to the tradition of carving graffiti into beech trees. The marks made by humans (along with all the tree's other scars) stretch as the trunk expands.

*Quoted by Richard Mabey in Flora Britannica.

[ID A series of close-up images of beech tree bark, some with indistinct initials and dates, one of which may read JC Odel 1886.]

Beech trees, Killerton Estate, near Exeter.

"Crescunt illae; crescant amores. - As these letters grow, so may our love." *This Roman proverb refers to the tradition of carving graffiti into beech trees. The marks made by humans (along with all the tree's other scars) stretch as the trunk expands.

*Quoted by Richard Mabey in Flora Britannica.

[ID A series of close-up images of beech tree bark, some with indistinct initials and dates, one of which may read JC Odel 1886.]

Beech trees, Killerton Estate, near Exeter.

"Crescunt illae; crescant amores. - As these letters grow, so may our love." *This Roman proverb refers to the tradition of carving graffiti into beech trees. The marks made by humans (along with all the tree's other scars) stretch as the trunk expands.

*Quoted by Richard Mabey in Flora Britannica.

[ID A series of close-up images of beech tree bark, some with indistinct initials and dates, one of which may read JC Odel 1886.]

Chuffed to be part of a new publication The Future Present from @loophole.projects - messages to the future from 52 people currently working in the arts.Out soon.

Just home from Swanage - which I realise has been my family's anchor point for 30-plus years, even though our origins are in North London.

In between helping my mum with lots of domestic stuff, I managed to catch #lastchancetosee by @angela_charles_paints at @themowlemswanage
which is on show until 29th April.

It was also a reminder of @_liberty_smith_ 's wonderful experimental documentary 'What are you looking at?' about Angela and her approach to painting as she deals with progressive sight loss.

[ID 1. A bluey-green hut on a sandy beach looking towards a deeper bluey green sea
2. Four small, colourful abstract paintings on rectangular canvases set in a grid on a white wall, striped by sunlight from a nearby window]

Just home from Swanage - which I realise has been my family's anchor point for 30-plus years, even though our origins are in North London.

In between helping my mum with lots of domestic stuff, I managed to catch #lastchancetosee by @angela_charles_paints at @themowlemswanage
which is on show until 29th April.

It was also a reminder of @_liberty_smith_ 's wonderful experimental documentary 'What are you looking at?' about Angela and her approach to painting as she deals with progressive sight loss.

[ID 1. A bluey-green hut on a sandy beach looking towards a deeper bluey green sea
2. Four small, colourful abstract paintings on rectangular canvases set in a grid on a white wall, striped by sunlight from a nearby window]

Having completed a short work called The Porous Body about materialising mediums, I'm continuing to explore Victorian mediumship through the tricksy, haunted medium of moving image. Next up is Emma Hardinge Britten (1823 –1899), a writer, orator, trance clairvoyant and spirit medium who advocated for the scientific acceptance of mediumship and spiritualist phenomena. I'm focusing on an article she wrote for The Spiritual Magazine in 1871 where she directed attention to the 'movement of a single rose leaf' as reason to believe in 'the opening of the gates of a new science'.

I'm not completely clear why she focused on this flowery phenomenon but, as I filmed rose bushes, I began to notice a kind of resonant vibration of isolated leaves that can be set in motion by the breeze, but which often continues independently. The nearest parallel I can draw is to modern chaos theory, which suggests that in dynamic systems unpredictable outcomes can arise from simple conditions (eg the famous butterfly effect on weather systems proposed by Lorenz in the 1950s).

At the same time, while looking into the cultural history of the rose, I came across the idea of sub rosa or 'under the rose', a Latin phrase which denotes secrecy. Meeting rooms and even confessionals were decorated with roses as a reminder that conversations would be kept in confidence. There's something here about secret knowledge: who can contribute to knowledge or what counts as knowledge in patriarchal scientific discourse, and what remains hidden. I'll have to see where it takes me.

ID 1. A rose bloom in a glass on a séance table

ID 2. A single rose leaf highlighted in a circle against a blue sky against an orange background

ID 3. Emma Hardinge Britten in the mid 1860s (Wikimedia Commons)

ID 4. Plasterwork roses (I think!) in the ceiling of Exeter's Custom House (designed by John Abbott)

#artistmovingimage
#experimentalfilm
#shortfilm
#contemporaryart
#mediumship

Having completed a short work called The Porous Body about materialising mediums, I'm continuing to explore Victorian mediumship through the tricksy, haunted medium of moving image. Next up is Emma Hardinge Britten (1823 –1899), a writer, orator, trance clairvoyant and spirit medium who advocated for the scientific acceptance of mediumship and spiritualist phenomena. I'm focusing on an article she wrote for The Spiritual Magazine in 1871 where she directed attention to the 'movement of a single rose leaf' as reason to believe in 'the opening of the gates of a new science'.

I'm not completely clear why she focused on this flowery phenomenon but, as I filmed rose bushes, I began to notice a kind of resonant vibration of isolated leaves that can be set in motion by the breeze, but which often continues independently. The nearest parallel I can draw is to modern chaos theory, which suggests that in dynamic systems unpredictable outcomes can arise from simple conditions (eg the famous butterfly effect on weather systems proposed by Lorenz in the 1950s).

At the same time, while looking into the cultural history of the rose, I came across the idea of sub rosa or 'under the rose', a Latin phrase which denotes secrecy. Meeting rooms and even confessionals were decorated with roses as a reminder that conversations would be kept in confidence. There's something here about secret knowledge: who can contribute to knowledge or what counts as knowledge in patriarchal scientific discourse, and what remains hidden. I'll have to see where it takes me.

ID 1. A rose bloom in a glass on a séance table

ID 2. A single rose leaf highlighted in a circle against a blue sky against an orange background

ID 3. Emma Hardinge Britten in the mid 1860s (Wikimedia Commons)

ID 4. Plasterwork roses (I think!) in the ceiling of Exeter's Custom House (designed by John Abbott)

#artistmovingimage
#experimentalfilm
#shortfilm
#contemporaryart
#mediumship

Having completed a short work called The Porous Body about materialising mediums, I'm continuing to explore Victorian mediumship through the tricksy, haunted medium of moving image. Next up is Emma Hardinge Britten (1823 –1899), a writer, orator, trance clairvoyant and spirit medium who advocated for the scientific acceptance of mediumship and spiritualist phenomena. I'm focusing on an article she wrote for The Spiritual Magazine in 1871 where she directed attention to the 'movement of a single rose leaf' as reason to believe in 'the opening of the gates of a new science'.

I'm not completely clear why she focused on this flowery phenomenon but, as I filmed rose bushes, I began to notice a kind of resonant vibration of isolated leaves that can be set in motion by the breeze, but which often continues independently. The nearest parallel I can draw is to modern chaos theory, which suggests that in dynamic systems unpredictable outcomes can arise from simple conditions (eg the famous butterfly effect on weather systems proposed by Lorenz in the 1950s).

At the same time, while looking into the cultural history of the rose, I came across the idea of sub rosa or 'under the rose', a Latin phrase which denotes secrecy. Meeting rooms and even confessionals were decorated with roses as a reminder that conversations would be kept in confidence. There's something here about secret knowledge: who can contribute to knowledge or what counts as knowledge in patriarchal scientific discourse, and what remains hidden. I'll have to see where it takes me.

ID 1. A rose bloom in a glass on a séance table

ID 2. A single rose leaf highlighted in a circle against a blue sky against an orange background

ID 3. Emma Hardinge Britten in the mid 1860s (Wikimedia Commons)

ID 4. Plasterwork roses (I think!) in the ceiling of Exeter's Custom House (designed by John Abbott)

#artistmovingimage
#experimentalfilm
#shortfilm
#contemporaryart
#mediumship

Having completed a short work called The Porous Body about materialising mediums, I'm continuing to explore Victorian mediumship through the tricksy, haunted medium of moving image. Next up is Emma Hardinge Britten (1823 –1899), a writer, orator, trance clairvoyant and spirit medium who advocated for the scientific acceptance of mediumship and spiritualist phenomena. I'm focusing on an article she wrote for The Spiritual Magazine in 1871 where she directed attention to the 'movement of a single rose leaf' as reason to believe in 'the opening of the gates of a new science'.

I'm not completely clear why she focused on this flowery phenomenon but, as I filmed rose bushes, I began to notice a kind of resonant vibration of isolated leaves that can be set in motion by the breeze, but which often continues independently. The nearest parallel I can draw is to modern chaos theory, which suggests that in dynamic systems unpredictable outcomes can arise from simple conditions (eg the famous butterfly effect on weather systems proposed by Lorenz in the 1950s).

At the same time, while looking into the cultural history of the rose, I came across the idea of sub rosa or 'under the rose', a Latin phrase which denotes secrecy. Meeting rooms and even confessionals were decorated with roses as a reminder that conversations would be kept in confidence. There's something here about secret knowledge: who can contribute to knowledge or what counts as knowledge in patriarchal scientific discourse, and what remains hidden. I'll have to see where it takes me.

ID 1. A rose bloom in a glass on a séance table

ID 2. A single rose leaf highlighted in a circle against a blue sky against an orange background

ID 3. Emma Hardinge Britten in the mid 1860s (Wikimedia Commons)

ID 4. Plasterwork roses (I think!) in the ceiling of Exeter's Custom House (designed by John Abbott)

#artistmovingimage
#experimentalfilm
#shortfilm
#contemporaryart
#mediumship

Thank you #twoshortnights2026 @exeterphoenix for another wonderful celebration of short film - from documentary to experimental and more. Not only did I see some amazing films, I got to share two of my own: The Porous Body, as part of the Official Selection and Never Touch the Ground, made with @frankiewilliamsart and Tim King for the 48-Hour Film Challenge.

There was so much outstanding work on show but some that stayed with me include: Seus Bebes dir. Letícia Bianco (family tensions and sea monsters); Oxtoby dir. Pippa Marriott (portrait of a sadly overlooked contemporary of David Hockney); Crâne dir. Marion Guerrero (what a bad day really feels like); Roadwytch dir. Libby Bove (roadside recovery via ritual and magic); Mother Company dir. Alexander Raptotasios & Konstantinos Thomaidis (a children's choir explore the dark history of a mining town through song and play);  A Sin de Fella Story dir. Sheryn Yidi (a touching tale of passion and precarity in the arts); plus all the hilarious, chaotic three-minute wonders created by our fellow 48-hour challengers.

Thanks to Two Short Nights for having me and all those who supported me either at the event or from afar.

1. Two Short Nights sign board
2. The Porous Body laurels and still
3. Never Touch the Ground - still from our entry for the 48 Hour Film Challenge

Thank you #twoshortnights2026 @exeterphoenix for another wonderful celebration of short film - from documentary to experimental and more. Not only did I see some amazing films, I got to share two of my own: The Porous Body, as part of the Official Selection and Never Touch the Ground, made with @frankiewilliamsart and Tim King for the 48-Hour Film Challenge.

There was so much outstanding work on show but some that stayed with me include: Seus Bebes dir. Letícia Bianco (family tensions and sea monsters); Oxtoby dir. Pippa Marriott (portrait of a sadly overlooked contemporary of David Hockney); Crâne dir. Marion Guerrero (what a bad day really feels like); Roadwytch dir. Libby Bove (roadside recovery via ritual and magic); Mother Company dir. Alexander Raptotasios & Konstantinos Thomaidis (a children's choir explore the dark history of a mining town through song and play);  A Sin de Fella Story dir. Sheryn Yidi (a touching tale of passion and precarity in the arts); plus all the hilarious, chaotic three-minute wonders created by our fellow 48-hour challengers.

Thanks to Two Short Nights for having me and all those who supported me either at the event or from afar.

1. Two Short Nights sign board
2. The Porous Body laurels and still
3. Never Touch the Ground - still from our entry for the 48 Hour Film Challenge

Thank you #twoshortnights2026 @exeterphoenix for another wonderful celebration of short film - from documentary to experimental and more. Not only did I see some amazing films, I got to share two of my own: The Porous Body, as part of the Official Selection and Never Touch the Ground, made with @frankiewilliamsart and Tim King for the 48-Hour Film Challenge.

There was so much outstanding work on show but some that stayed with me include: Seus Bebes dir. Letícia Bianco (family tensions and sea monsters); Oxtoby dir. Pippa Marriott (portrait of a sadly overlooked contemporary of David Hockney); Crâne dir. Marion Guerrero (what a bad day really feels like); Roadwytch dir. Libby Bove (roadside recovery via ritual and magic); Mother Company dir. Alexander Raptotasios & Konstantinos Thomaidis (a children's choir explore the dark history of a mining town through song and play);  A Sin de Fella Story dir. Sheryn Yidi (a touching tale of passion and precarity in the arts); plus all the hilarious, chaotic three-minute wonders created by our fellow 48-hour challengers.

Thanks to Two Short Nights for having me and all those who supported me either at the event or from afar.

1. Two Short Nights sign board
2. The Porous Body laurels and still
3. Never Touch the Ground - still from our entry for the 48 Hour Film Challenge

February Publication Feature 🎬

Two Short Nights is returning in 2026 to celebrate another year of creativity, diversity, and emerging talent.

Exeter based artist Gabby Hoad has her short film featured in ‘Shorts #3: Something Feels Off’. She said:

'My moving image work The Porous Body is based on first-hand accounts of séances from the late 19th and early 20th century. It focuses on female mediums who manifested otherworldly materials, sounds and objects, seemingly from their own bodies.'

You can find out more about her practice and the process of making the film in the February edition of our Creative Hub Publication 🗞

Two Short Nights Film Festival will take place on Thu 05 Mar and Fri 06 Mar 2026.

February Publication Feature 🎬

Two Short Nights is returning in 2026 to celebrate another year of creativity, diversity, and emerging talent.

Exeter based artist Gabby Hoad has her short film featured in ‘Shorts #3: Something Feels Off’. She said:

'My moving image work The Porous Body is based on first-hand accounts of séances from the late 19th and early 20th century. It focuses on female mediums who manifested otherworldly materials, sounds and objects, seemingly from their own bodies.'

You can find out more about her practice and the process of making the film in the February edition of our Creative Hub Publication 🗞

Two Short Nights Film Festival will take place on Thu 05 Mar and Fri 06 Mar 2026.

This is a 13th century oak misericord, seen today in Exeter Cathedral's Treasures Exhibition. A misericord is a small hinged seat found in church choir stalls. They have elaborate carvings on the underside that are often quite fantastical or pagan in content.

Just yesterday, while writing a proposal, I was revisiting the idea of the medieval bestiary and some collage work I made in the early 2020s. So I was delighted to see this wildly inaccurate elephant (with hooves), probably carved by someone who had never seen a real one.

This elephant was just one of many extraordinary artefacts shared during the final session of Women in the Archives, a series of workshops run by @urbanlearningacademy and @exetercathedral

With thanks to Emma - Cathedral Librarian, Maria of ULA and the very knowledgable guides in the Treasures Exhibition.  It's been an amazingly informative and inspiring course.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Dawlish Warren update.

The paths are flooded, of course; in fact the lake has burst it banks. The dunes are now in ruins - they surely can't hold up much longer. And maybe it's the storms, but I've never seen so much human-made rubbish on the beach.

Then, at Warren Point, a kayaker emerged from the sea, armed with rubble sacks. She said her name was Becky and she'd come from Exmouth to litter-pick. For about 20 minutes we worked together to pick up some of the detritis around us: fishing line, plastic bottles, nylon rope, plastic crates, lumps of polystyrene packaging, spent shotgun shells, vapes, toys, a wheel, a hard hat, old chemical and food containers....

We made a heap just above the tide line and reported it to the rangers on the way back. It wasn't much, but you feel you owe at least some reparation to this damaged place.

I've been observing and recording Dawlish Warren for more than 10 years. At times the environmentalfragility and human incursion has felt poignant and very telling of the mess we're in, but now it feels like something darker.

Even so, next time I go, I'll take my own rubbish collectingbag. To do my bit, as Becky put it.

Over the past few weeks I've been lucky enough to participate in a series of workshops run by @urbanlearningacademy and @exetercathedral looking at women in the archives.

From women's work as botanic illustrators, embroiderers, calligraphers and stained glass makers, to accounts of women accused of witchcraft and heresy, to women as the subject of treatises on medicine and morality, it's been fascinating.

Thank you Emma - Cathedral Librarian, Elizabeth - Cathedral guide and Maria of ULA for a chance to get up close to some really fascinating artefacts and ask lots of questions. Thanks too to the other participants for all the interesting chats.

1. 12th century book talking about Exeter's patron saint Sidwella (or Sativola in Latin), with repair stitching in the parchment
2. A page from Richard Mead's On the Power and Influence of the Sun and Moon on Humane Bodies from 1704
3. Engraving of rosemary from Elizabeth Blackwell's A Curious Herbal 1739

Over the past few weeks I've been lucky enough to participate in a series of workshops run by @urbanlearningacademy and @exetercathedral looking at women in the archives.

From women's work as botanic illustrators, embroiderers, calligraphers and stained glass makers, to accounts of women accused of witchcraft and heresy, to women as the subject of treatises on medicine and morality, it's been fascinating.

Thank you Emma - Cathedral Librarian, Elizabeth - Cathedral guide and Maria of ULA for a chance to get up close to some really fascinating artefacts and ask lots of questions. Thanks too to the other participants for all the interesting chats.

1. 12th century book talking about Exeter's patron saint Sidwella (or Sativola in Latin), with repair stitching in the parchment
2. A page from Richard Mead's On the Power and Influence of the Sun and Moon on Humane Bodies from 1704
3. Engraving of rosemary from Elizabeth Blackwell's A Curious Herbal 1739

Over the past few weeks I've been lucky enough to participate in a series of workshops run by @urbanlearningacademy and @exetercathedral looking at women in the archives.

From women's work as botanic illustrators, embroiderers, calligraphers and stained glass makers, to accounts of women accused of witchcraft and heresy, to women as the subject of treatises on medicine and morality, it's been fascinating.

Thank you Emma - Cathedral Librarian, Elizabeth - Cathedral guide and Maria of ULA for a chance to get up close to some really fascinating artefacts and ask lots of questions. Thanks too to the other participants for all the interesting chats.

1. 12th century book talking about Exeter's patron saint Sidwella (or Sativola in Latin), with repair stitching in the parchment
2. A page from Richard Mead's On the Power and Influence of the Sun and Moon on Humane Bodies from 1704
3. Engraving of rosemary from Elizabeth Blackwell's A Curious Herbal 1739

Thank you @kathyhinde for a calm yet ear-opening hour in the rain today, listening to the River Exe and its human and nonhuman inhabitants, along with the singing, humming and rumbling of quayside bridges and lamposts.

This listening walk was part of the #rippleeffects microfestival focused on creative responses to water systems and ecologies .

#hydrophone
#contactmic
#emsniffer
#audioecology

Thank you @kathyhinde for a calm yet ear-opening hour in the rain today, listening to the River Exe and its human and nonhuman inhabitants, along with the singing, humming and rumbling of quayside bridges and lamposts.

This listening walk was part of the #rippleeffects microfestival focused on creative responses to water systems and ecologies .

#hydrophone
#contactmic
#emsniffer
#audioecology

Thank you @kathyhinde for a calm yet ear-opening hour in the rain today, listening to the River Exe and its human and nonhuman inhabitants, along with the singing, humming and rumbling of quayside bridges and lamposts.

This listening walk was part of the #rippleeffects microfestival focused on creative responses to water systems and ecologies .

#hydrophone
#contactmic
#emsniffer
#audioecology

Rain, mud, more rain, cake and silly dresses. I've been out this weekend with @frankiewilliamsart and #timking filming our entry for Exeter's #48hourfilmchallenge  

The challenge is to make a 3-minute film from scratch in just 48 hours. You're allowed to gather cast, crew and kit, and to recce locations ahead of time, but you're not given the genre until 6pm on Friday (plus a prop and some text that must be included).

Things didn't go exactly as planned:  life has a habit of throwing up the unexpected. But we finished our edit just in time on Sunday night.  Fingers crossed we'll be part of the screening on Friday 6th March #twoshortnights @exeterphoenix