Beautiful ewes with their newborn lambs at the Goodwood Estate, West Sussex. Some of the lambs had just arrived that morning. Above is a distinctive Southdown ewe.
Couldn't ignore this striking couple.
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Pawtgur: It should have been obvious why she was upset, but not to me.
Pencil on paper, 22.9 x 30.5 cm
There is little known about St Anne's Well, an ancient holy well originally called Wealletune, after the place-name Welton in East Yorkshire. It was adopted by Christianity and renamed St Anne's Well around 1080. Prior to this, it is believed to have been a site of pagan ritual, with the well serving as a portal to the Otherworld. This place holds particular meaning for me, as I played around the site of the well as a child. Unaware at the time of the history beneath my feet, I find myself continuing to be drawn back there in dreams.
"... the holy well stands before a long, if tiny and ill-lit, corridor of history with doors leading off into many unexpected and little-visited rooms..." —James Rattue, author of The Living Stream.
The well has long been covered with stone slabs, and a tree has attempted to grow over it. Over the years, it has remained sheltered within the grounds of Welton House, a large estate that was demolished in 1952.
An archaeological report from an area near the well uncovered early prehistoric, Iron Age, Roman, and early medieval pottery in a layer of ‘hillwash’ above the natural chalk. The presence of these pottery fragments testifies to early settlement in the vicinity of the site, including some that may date to the late 11th century, when the well came into being.
Welton House 1923
I was fortunate to be granted access to the site recently and was delighted to discover the well and natural spring, still seeping from the ground. For at least a thousand years, this ancient spring has served a multitude of needs. I hope to convey a sense of this timeless promise in the photographs below.
The water is trickling into here. The well itself is about 3 metres to the right.
St Anne's Well (covered)
"In 1385 there was a well at Bisham (Berkshire) where a tame bird dwelt atop a tree, in whose nest offerings were left in return for the cure of sore eyes at the well."—The Living Stream
My composition and film Home Ground features footage
This is an excerpt from my 40-minute immersive soundscape, which incorporates CymaScope imagery transcribed from the source audio by John Stuart Reid. It was first presented at the Islington Arts Factory in April 2017 during the opening night of my solo exhibition, How Shall I Get Elephants To Stay, and later showcased at the Leeds Festival 2019 cinema tent, courtesy of Film Oxford.
Within the CymaScope instrument, the surface of pure water serves as a super-sensitive membrane. By imprinting sounds onto the liquid surface, unique patterns of sound energy are created for every distinct sound.
St Anne's Well is a meditative audio-visual experience designed to foster a deeper connection with the natural world.
As the soundscape unfolds, various bird calls sing out, with the heron at the still centre. The heron is an enigmatic creature, deeply rooted in mythology and folklore. To me, herons are among the most beautiful beings to grace our skies, and whenever I see one, I instinctively feel it is a "good omen;" somehow, they resonate with me. In St Anne's Well, the heron may serve as both guardian and oracle, yet it remains an enduring presence in our subconscious landscapes.
"Give the bird a gift. Open the portal to the Otherworld."
Ganoderma Applanatum, also known as The Artist’s Conk, caught my eye growing on a tree near the well. At the time, I didn’t know its name, but it intrigued me, so I took it as a memento. It was nourished by St Anne’s Well, Wealletune. In dreams, I wander these grounds and sleep in the water, wrapping it around me like a blanket. The well feels tangible within this bracket fungus, which I can now reflect on as I hold it in my hands.
We were graced with an unexpected visit from an unaccompanied falcon while making this film. From the tags on her legs, we learned her name was Ruby. She arrived at a very timely moment, the sound of a bell marking her arrival — just as I had asked the little girl in the film to run around an oak tree, as if casting a spell.
Ruby lingered for a while, hopping along on the ground and performing low swoops over our heads. Her raptorial presence amazed and inspired us. She then followed us from above as we walked home through the old, wooded pathways by the fields.
Perhaps our imagination extends beyond ourselves, reaching out toward the things we love — and maybe all of nature is listening, waiting for a chance to reach back.
The photograph above is of a mysterious copse I knew as a child. There's a stone trough in the middle and someone said they used to put foxes in it, which is strange, and unlikely. At the time, however, our young brains imagined this to be true. I would love to know more about the copse and who planted it. The trees are like gnarly-limbed old ladies, boughs tangled together in their old age. It is quite something to step into their midst and wonder.
A Child's Rumour
In the sky beyond power lines, hulking ash clouds
the old tree, a colossus, leans backwards as if to catch the stars
I'm susceptible to ancient springs, melodious landscape
I'm pregnant with the child I was, still exploring branches
underground, a portal, all comfort denied
underneath a table, hard labour – Will Usher relayed the crime
I'm susceptible to mysteries, just like my sister
I'm pregnant with the child I was, still exploring rumour
rumour, a child's rumour
until our lives reveal the mess
our flesh grows around the rumour
caught up in the vast terrain of unanswered questions
jumping over the rose bush, laughing in the pouring rain.
This song is set in Welton, where I grew up. The second verse, "underground, a portal, all comfort denied, underneath a table, hard labour – Will Usher relayed the crime," refers to the sentence of Elizabeth Thompson, who lived there.
"Elizabeth Thompson on the twenty seventh day of October last, 1867, at Welton Wold, in the Parish of Welton, the said Riding, one table cloth, two sheets, two pillow cases and certain flannel of the goods and chattels of William Usher then and there being did feloniously steal, take and carry away contrary to the statute in such case made and provided. We adjudge the said Eizabeth Thompson for her said offence, to be imprisoned in the House of Correction at Beverley, the said Riding, and there kept hard labour for the space of three calendar months."
The truth is stranger than fiction ... gyr falcon x saker - Ruby
Before the falcon appeared, I had been creating a puppet for the film A Child's Rumour — her name is Mädchen, a nod to my German blood. While I was making her, a phrase played over and over in my mind: We carry with us the shells of our grandmother's hearts.
