Tag: Camilla Nelson
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Editorial: Radical Landscapes
Radical Landscapes takes its title from Harriet Tarlo’s seminal collection of British ecopoetries The Ground Aslant: An Anthology of Radical Landscape Poetry (Shearsman, 2011) – a collection that came out in the penultimate year of my PhD devoted to Reading and Writing with a Tree: Practising “Nature Writing” as Enquiry, which was itself a radical,…
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The Look Away
Although I cannot see them, I know they are out there. Hare. Fox. Raven. Each waiting to play their part. – Richard Skelton, The Look Away A sense of ominous foreboding pervades The Look Away, the debut novel from Richard Skelton, musician, poet, and co-founder, along with Autumn Richardson, of Corbel Stone…
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Apples & Other Languages
Camilla Nelson’s words bring things to life. ‘Stir this miracle to waking,’ she says, in the first poem in Apples & Other Languages, a signal of the alchemy of ideas to follow. Here, the intangible and the inanimate take on new form: windpipes ‘sound themselves furiously’, a song ‘breaks the ice we stand on’. But…
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Journals and Imprints Fair
Sunday 22nd June, Noon – 4pm The Peckham Pelican FREE! This June, The Learned Pig is delighted to be co-hosting a Sunday afternoon journals and imprints fair, as part of the week-long Literary Kitchen Festival. Taking place at the Peckham Pelican in south London, the fair features a host of our favourite independent…
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Arkhipelagos
There is a sense of relief, upon leaving this exhibition, of being palpably bound up with pavement, sky and, a few short paces away, the murky heave and rush of the Thames with its welcome damp rising. A skeleton hull of a boat, displayed on the banks of the Thames, ghosts the space from which…
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WOR(L)D(K) IN PROGRESS?
When I first walked in, I didn’t get it. The walls of the first gallery are covered in neon orange paper. Obviously this was done for effect, but what effect, other than mild visionary discomfort, I could not think. And there was a man in a chair. Not a real man in a chair (although…
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She speaks
in a hoar frost, she said: the weather’s made a Miss Havisham’s wedding feast of this wood the dark of bark and leaf is cobwebbed over the hoar has clapped white hands over all those breathing mouths the air nests whitely in the trees and waits like birds like words to be…
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Untitled
give me a coin for the slot machine sky, I said and she gave me the sun and the polka dancing stars were sequins on night’s black dress give me a coin for the slot machine sky, I said and she gave me the moon and the day was a smooth blue pebble give…
