Telling tales at Crediton Arts Centre this autumn

Telling tales at Crediton Arts Centre this autumn

A new course of creative writing workshops at Crediton Arts Centre might be just the help you need to start getting your story on to the page.

Poetry Profile – John McCullough

Poetry Profile – John McCullough

John McCullough is an award winning poet, writer and teacher. His poems often blend the physical with the surreal, the sublime with the everyday, never failing to elicit an emotional, instinctual response. His latest book, Panic Response was chosen by The Times for its list 

Birdlife

Birdlife

“It was brutal, but wasn’t that what nature was, what we were, made brutal by our drive to survive?”

Late Light

Late Light

“Paolo felt for each step like a child in the dark. There was a rattle coming from his insides, like a shaken bag of scrabble letters; clink, clink, clink.”

Poems to grow by

Poems to grow by

“We clamoured to be told the stories she had told us a thousand times before”

Tramp

Tramp

“Once we’ve parted ways and I’ve set off around the fields, trying not to notice the stakes hammered in around the perimeters of both fields, I feel the jolt of reality. To walk here wouldn’t be possible for much longer – once the fence was up, it was up. It wouldn’t be coming down again. Each fence post suddenly feels like a line drawn in the sand.”

Running

Running

‘As an adult I’ve always likened running to ironing – it’s just showing off. I’ve looked at runners and thought, but what are they actually running away from?’

There and back again

There and back again

When we reach the station we discover the Station Tea Room. We push open the door, hovering, masked, in the doorway. “Can we come in?” we ask Dominic and Roger, working at a table. “Of course”, they reply, smiling.

Only Connect

Only Connect

“For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love.”
As the light changes I begin to think about the big stuff and Carl Sagan’s wisdoms come to mind.

Rich pickings

Rich pickings

‘One day Theo handed me a roll of electric fencing. “Hold this for a second, Nels,” he said. “You won’t connect it, will you?” I ask. “Nah, course not,” he says.’

Together apart

Together apart

“Sorry,” the woman says to her invisible friend, murmuring hello to the dog as he lifts his head to her in greeting, “it’s just someone holding the gate for me.” Together apart. Together, together again. Sort of.

Making the jump

Making the jump

The swallows return and we host our first gathering in the garden, leading me to reflect on what makes it possible to make leaps of faith.

Cartwheeling

Cartwheeling

The natural world bounds and cartwheels back to life, bringing opportunities for much-missed connections.

The view from the hill

The view from the hill

A reflection on our relationship with the natural world in light of a proposed development on a green field site in Sandford

Bita kaulo munthos

Bita kaulo munthos

February turns from darkness to light as the days lengthen, life begins to push up out of the earth and we find reasons to have hope.

Poetry Profile – Kerry Priest

Poetry Profile – Kerry Priest

Kerry Priest is a poet, sound artist and playwright. I caught up with her digitally to talk poetry, life and 2020.

Three carols and a song

Three carols and a song

So this is ChristmasLike most of us, I navigate and feel comforted by the traditions that we wheel out at this time of year; the foods that we cook, the people we see, the stories we tell, the songs that we sing. And this year, 

Poetry Profile – Jackie Juno

Poetry Profile – Jackie Juno

Jackie Juno is a former Bard of Exeter and multiple poetry slam winner. Always a big hit with audiences, I caught up with her remotely to find out more about what makes her creative heart tick.

Imperfect

Imperfect

Learning to embrace imperfection in life and writing

Sandford Scenes – Autumn

Sandford Scenes – Autumn

Like most dog walkers, we regularly walk the same ways with Cooper. One of these is a there-and-back again which runs along the footpath alongside our garden through into Gorwyn’s Field, down past Furlongs and over Lower Creedy bridge, along Thornedges to the river. John