On the trail of Blue Porcupines....

I’m meeting poet James McKay for a sneak preview of a new piece of work that will be a part of SILTings, LV21s programme as part of Estuary Festival.  You can sign up to James free newsletter of his poems and writing here. A walking adventure around Gravesend focusing on a rather special mythical creature that can be found hiding in different places around the town – a blue porcupine. I’m sworn to secrecy so can’t reveal any locations or insight but the idea is a wonderfully playful mix of history, myth and mystery. 

We meet on the Quay by LV21 and I’d settled down with a book of photographs about Old Gravesend when Païvi arrives and introduces me to James and Sarah, the visual artist he is working with. We set off on our walk on a gloriously sunny day, chatting with Païvi before she has to leave. I hear stories about St Andrews Arts Centre, the sale of the mission building next door and artists getting rescued by the fire brigade having got locked in their room of The Clarendon Royal Hotel. I’m surprised to discover that this is the first day that Sarah and James have met each other in person and this is their first collaboration, there seems to be an ease between them. 

As we head off into Gravesend I enjoy listening to how this project came into being, and how they wrangle the idea – letting new possibilities emerge as we walk. We stumble across some recycling bags full of books and maps, and all have a good rummage! I find a children’s book about how to make peg and finger puppet pirates to take back to LV21, and some maps of the area from the 1960s and 1980s. We talk about how difficult we find it to see these left for recycling – lots of them are really good quality and could go to a charity shop. There’s lots of magazines and I notice that I would usually collect them to use in projects for collaging and mood boarding in workshops but I’m not working in person at the moment, and won’t be for a while. We chat about how we have all furnished where we live with things found in this way. When people ask me where something is from I’ll often joke it’s an exclusive from ‘Urban Foraging’. We chat about waste and renewal and circular economies and enjoying objects that have a history.

As we continue our walk we find some chairs, a reminder of why I’m here, and I chat about the project. I take some photos and we all admire one particular chair which James decides to take home – it’s a beautiful shape. It’s a really lovely detour to James home, going off the beaten track and along a little pathway that leads to his house, clinging to the hill. He has a lovely garden and we chat about planting and growing.

On our walk Sara is plotting the form of her work – a visual artist who works in multiple media she’s imaging the different ways the blue porcupine might appear on this walk of discovery. We talk and tell stories, and half-truths, and bombastic lies about the blue porcupine. I really enjoy this openness, it’s a real honour to be allowed to witness this process.

I found out a little more about James’ history – from Newcastle, via a short stint in London. He describes himself and his family as North Sea people. I have an instant sense of what he means and ponder on how I think I’m more of an Atlantic coast person. I love this sense of self connected to, and of, a place. Gravesend suits him because of this connection and closeness to his elemental source. He also really likes the food options that have been here - we wonder about how the smaller restaurants will survive the Pandemic. He’s not just a poet, he’s part of G-Town the Grime crew of musicians. There’s a fluidity to how he describes the work he makes – it makes me think of the silty, slipperiness of the water. Moving between forms, collecting and moving elements.

We reach the highest point of our walk and look out over Gravesend. I learn that Rouge Lane is probably so called because of all the fires that have occurred here. It’s here that we meet Ian, along with Sara he’s part of Inspiral London, a walking project. He’s been off exploring a route and tells about all the sky larks he saw, and how crop spraying disturbed them. Then noticing that they returned. 

We amble down towards LV21, Ian and Sara are a bit sore and tired from a very long walk at the weekend, exploring the north bank of the Thames, opposite where we are. I’m really interested in the Inspiral project, from when I first heard about it at GAS on day one of the residency. I’m very drawn to this land based creative practice. I enjoy listening to them talk as we walk through a park. James brings our attention to an obelisk monument, hidden away in a corner. It sort of fails as a monument, as we don’t know what it’s for, or who put it there and it’s so tucked away. We mull over monuments and statues their roles in civic and community life. Our conversation drifts to appreciation of a magnificent tree – we aren’t quite sure what species and I take some photos to take home and identify it. Maybe some sort of oak? This living being could be hundreds of years old – what changes has it witnessed? What if we celebrated it?

                                            

We bimble back to Bawley Bay, the rest of the crew pick up chips and we sit on the beach in the hazy evening sun, the sound of tumbling pebbles as the small waves ebb. It feels like a glimpse of a holiday. I feel very rooted and privileged. To be able to spend time in such an unhurried and loose way with such an interesting group of artists. I sense that something about how I make work is changing, I’m the definition of a late bloomer and often struggle to allow myself time to dream or call myself an artist. This afternoon ramble and evening sit has really rooted me, and expanded my thinking. I’m very grateful and really don’t want to leave but there’s an hour drive home to come so I say my goodbyes and quite literally drive off into the sunset.