It wouldn’t be Christmas time without oyster mushrooms… is something most people don’t say. But something I have increasingly been saying over the last 4 years. Since I discovered a tree magnificently fruiting full of oyster mushrooms on a short walk from my house and have since built something of a relationship with this tree and its fungal inhabitants.

After years of dreading, hating this time of year I am finally falling in love with winter. This is something I thought I’d never say.

Years of tiredness, misery, feeling like I was doing something wrong, I was wrong, at this time of year and I’m now relishing in the slow, quiet that this season brings.

This piece is a reflection on my time at an artist retreat with Wild Rumpus.

When was the last time you felt fully rested? I’m not sure I can remember, definitely not as an adult.

Rest is something that has become an increasing focus of my work, and personal life. Partly out of necessity in living in a chronically fatigued body constantly teetering on the edge of burnout, and partly for the hope and determination that there is more to life that what’s been sold to us. This life of exhaustion, and the feelings of guilt and inadequacy that join it, can’t be all there is, surely?

It’s been a while since I’ve posted on here. Thought I’d maybe use the excuse of posting these photos of me wearing a WIP patchwork quilt somewhere other than social media to just muse about life as a WIP (original I know).

Have you ever been down to the woods and see tiny orange orbs that look like they might be floating above a muddle puddle?

No? Well if you have that’s the bog beacon aka mitrula paludosa and I’ll tell you about them in this blog post