Letters to garden makers

Hello,  I have to admit to a kind of tiredness that comes from somewhere deep inside me. It's a kind of bone deep weariness with my own self, and with what human life has become. Now I'm not saying that I'm depressed, but I'm trying to face the reality of who I am and what the collective 'we' are currently moving through; 'cost of living crisis', wars, famines, dirty politics, corruption. But then those things are always with us, like the realities of illness, separation and loss, but alongside and underneath there remains the living spirit of things. Well here I stand, still alive, still breathing in and out, and yes the garden and this post industrial valley is still singing a lively song. Today its the cuckoo, thrush, raven, buzzard, sparrow, bullfinch and the chirrrup of the blue tit family busy feeding their brood in the nestbox, protesting at our presence sitting under the shade of the umbrella. I believe that singing helps ! I have a friend named ...

 Dear reader, My garden is becoming more and more untidy as the years roll on, and as my energy wanes. I feel this most acutely since retiring on a small pension and living within our means. It doesn't help that at this time of year Instagram and Book of the Face is full of really beautiful images of tulip filled and very tidy gardens. Do you sense a kind of jealousy creeping in ? Ok, I have a chip on my shoulder. But then we also read a lot about not being too tidy in the garden for the benefit of wild things. It is very hard to resist the urge to tidy. It must be a deeply entrenched human need? I've wanted to take down the rotting pergola and shed for a very long time, but every year something happens that means we can't spend on what is secondary in terms of priorities. I used the first warm dry day for some time to venture down and inspect what remains of this end of the garden, and this involved tidying and clearing up the detritus. I actually derived pleasure from thi...

  I have been making both a garden and artwork here in Ystalyfera since 2001, but have lived in this valley since 1991. Its industrial past, the hardship of the lives once lived here, and the physical presence of the hills and mountains have all seeped into my consciousness. Some time back I read about the poetry and life of John Clare, the 19th century poet from rural Northamptonshire, and identified with his working class life and the struggle he had watching industrialisation change and destroy his beloved countryside.  I have been intending to make an artwork as an offering to all who struggle with our capacity for destruction, and have made a piece called  'A Garden for John Clare' based on my garden and the landscape it sits in and filled with signs and signifiers. The finished piece. Plaster cast, watercolour, photograph and raw clay on wood panel 50x50cm A fellow artist asked whether I had ever watched the film about Clare made by Andrew Kotting in 2015, abou...