I did not know what to expect.
Extreme Light North based at my favourite headland, Sumburgh Head, and so very aptly at my favourite lighthouse, where a troupe, led by Clare Duffy, has a very precise project.
Performance art instigated at Shetland level by our Shetland Library Reading Champion, playwright & artiste extraordinaire, Jacqui Clark – in which light is celebrated in collaboration with Clare Duffy & her troupe.
On the 18th night of the eight’s month, selected reading of Compass Head were broadcasted to the world via the internet, whilst being recorded in the intimacy of the stone wall with a mic in a cranny…
On a more personal note, Sumburgh Head has a very special place in my heart. The most southerly headland from da Auld Rock, the place where I twice worked as an Assistant Warden for the RSPB in the early 2000s, a place I celebrate as a poet, and share with the rest of the world. A place associated with dreams and adventures. And when I think adventures, RLS springs to my mind like a boomerang. After all, his grandfather has left luminous prints with his family of lighthouse builders! So all in all, it felt a pretty funky night to the wildest audience! Open air poetry reading… Both ethereal and fab fun!
Jacqui Clark & her balloon adventure
With gracious thanks to Jacqui Clark and Lucy for nurturing me at such event.
with Lucy from the Extreme Light Project, 18 August 2018
Local actors are preparing with Clare Duffy’s troupe for a very special event. There is an upcoming art performance on the 28 August at Sumburgh Head. Grab a ticket and come along.
It is truly a unique experience and Project in full osmosis 🙂
Sumburgh Head, 18 Aug 2016.
Filed under 2016, 60N, Arcania, arts, atlantic, autumn, blogging, book, celebration, collaboration, colours, Compass_Head, earth, geopoetics, help your library, home, humanity, images, island, light, literature, north, scotland, seabird, shetland, shore, spirit, verse, verse poetry, world, writing
Now, to a darker one…
Have you chosen your place of death?
Is it in the shade of blossoms,
blows to carry words
is it outside a
lighthouse – where
whiteness stands so
the great wild bairn*
you see the meaning of
your birth –
in between breasts,
staves in circles;
what’s left of
It lives inside you,
the womb of the dead, and
yet you need me
guide – as
no one points to
(From Shetland dialect)
maalies: fulmar petrels
© Nat Hall 2016
Filed under 60N, Arcania, geopoetics, home, island, life, literature, north, poet, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, verse, verse poetry, vikings, winter, wordplay
On the fourteenth morning of the second month, my latitude sprinkled with ice.
As I watched snow fly, each flake reminded me of winter, and then, one shrieking call of the blackbird, which, in turn, inspired this poem.
Valentine inside Ice
That thin layer of icicles on
every inch of your garden has petrified
water & song of the blackbird.
they hold so deep inside their heart
still fear raw sharpness of winter,
blunt edge of mid-February,
epic layer of crystals on
every branch of your pine trees,
fur cone, needle…
Still far too shy to set them free.
That elusive outburst of
showcase of desire
in between blue & icicles
still needs the sun.
It is the song I want to hear.
And if you too
could let notes fly,
reveal true meaning in your
smiles, and find your
way out of winter,
and leave your
I would sing back in unison.
© Nat Hall 2016
Filed under 60N, Arcania, colours, earth, fire, geopoetics, home, island, life, literature, music, north, poet, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, snow, spirit, verse, white, winter, wordplay
They say Gertrude has fingernails ready to slash through waves & land…
Whatever the colour of warning, putting a name onto a storm personifies eyes from the sky.
I don’t particularly like purple in such context. A storm’s coming.
For the first time, have dressed my neck with an ancient binding rune from the viking world. The one that’s said to fulfil your wishes. It has its place between Wunjo & my angel. I hope it will bring good fortune.
a haiku de rigueur, as my dreams jigging with gale gusts.
Every storm has its own paraphernalia of bullets… Tonight, the sky turned a sniper.
Filed under 2016, 60N, Arcania, blogging, earth, geopoetics, haiku, images, life, north, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, snow, spirit, verse poetry, winter
My very first thought as I discovered Wednesday from mid-morning:
Do we need to set alight replica viking longships to stop rain? …Let’s carry on, ’cause it’s working!
The day after the great bonfire in Lerwick gave us all hope to stretch our legs in style, as a much calmer day overrode a miserable Tuesday (and the final Wednesday of January allows us that in the first place!) .
Needless to say I would not stay put inside home, as the island was calling me out for an afternoon in the wild.
And it began with a great northern diver off Rerwick Beach, where a colony of common seals littered a good part of white sand.
From the roadside, they look like slugs…
A family of whooper swans graced the dullness of Spiggie Loch in low light.
And moorhens whizzed in between pools…
On the North Sea side of the island, teals & waders foraged at will on what the bay offered to them. Every wild gale feels generous, as rollers bring forest of kelp to be picked on from the edge of our known world.
Loose on a Wednesday afternoon, with the magic of the island.
That wonderful window of freedom felt a privilege, as well as penicillin to winter.
Magic moment so beneficial to the soul – a sample of winter wildlife on my Nordic doorstep. 🙂
Filed under 2016, 60N, Arcania, birds, blogging, colours, earth, geopoetics, home, images, island, life, north, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, winter