In the last two weeks I’ve been writing. Business writing takes me an age to get into the right rhythm but once I’m there it goes well.
Blogging weekly as a writing practice holds some of that pattern, the practice makes the familiarity of getting words into a form worthwhile, a progressive supporting practice.
My more creative expressive writing has been going somewhere and it forms beyond lists of words to a thing or several that I’m happy to share aloud.
I’ve updated my about page to include 2 podcasts I’ve spoken on and a film that I’m involved in that has some exciting news.
After properly nay forensically documenting workshops, I like to write my own report or analysis of the event – I do this when I design and run workshops, it’s an old habit now. I still think it’s a good one.
Recently I was asked to write a report of a day long event where I was an invited listener. A rather odd role for me as of recent years I’m normally n the thick of the design, planning, stakeholder & invitee list and facilitation to insights and actions.
In my own notes of the session I completed a critical analysis of the how and the what. I included my insights as an experienced design strategist. I was told I’d over egged it. Fair enough but I hope my points made will be taken on board.
The report for wider consumption came easier to hand, having put my own scaffolding in place. Clarifying that my analysis was not for general consumption it’s in an editing cycle now. Chatham house rules intact.
Perhaps of more interest to you might be that my creative writing has demanded more space than… my ambition to grow vegetables.
I’ve been participating in a six week appreciative enquiry facilitated sessions on Waterbodies. That concludes this week. It’s been wonderful to have dedicated space to listen, connect and make create a response to Cahore Polders. Part of local waterbody near where I live.
I’ve equally loved hearing where and what and how others are sharing and exploring that journey also. It’s a wonderful thing to be in deep relationship with water.
In attending to and observing the strict rules of appreciative enquiry, not commenting or building on another’s share, I’ve found that a bit challenging. Part of me wants to discuss someone else’s attending, their noticing or their creative share. But in my own work I’ve not really looked for that but building my confidence and trust to share the depth of attending to my process, with images and words.
The attending in this way is interesting because our waterbodies also don’t respond…
Simultaneously I’ve continued working with The Lake has no voice creative collective, we’ve been meeting since last September. For a while I was not sure what my work there would become and it’s morphed into several responses as I get into more creative flow with Lady’s Island Lake or Lagoon.
I’ve really felt I can’t hear Lady’s Island Lake she is smothering, so quiet a bear whisper of life there.
As a collective we performed last Friday night in Tacumshame at their night of music and storytelling. Five of us stood to speak our work poetry and writing to and with the waterbody. We brought a bowl and filled it with water from the lake. Underneath the glass bowl I placed an ipad with a mixture of photos I took and some from Alan Potter and one from the green algae bloom at its worst when it could be seen from space. They were run as a slide show beneath the bowl projecting colours of the area up through the water during our performance. Rory a flutist played music at the beginning, between our work and at the end.
This is the poem I spoke. Sensed and written when we went to see the cut on 7 of February, a few days after it had been made. The cut is a significant event in Lady’s Island where a passage is dug by mechanical digger from the Lagoon to the sea. It releases the water high in nitrogen and phosphates into the sea. In the past salt water gushed into the lagoon from waves topping the dunes but over time the dunes have widened, waves no longer breach the border of the beach.
there is something about it
witnessing
sea waves deep roar
the cut runs fast
peculiar waves peak and trough
water patterns weird and rapid
finding it’s own level
with respect old words held on tounge
heart edged
etched with deepening bliss
toward home
flocks mesmerising shimmer
turn on transparent cues
flexing mid air
through the ghost of wild grey dunes
empty shells
a dying lagoon
Lady’s Lake we are listening
The last two lines I did not read aloud. They were deemed maybe contentious.
I was processing lists of words, thinking about perspective, engagement and what would an argument be like between the lagoon and the green algae, Cyanobacteria. I’ve made it the villain. April 1st brought trickster energy to my thinking and a few days prior I wrote several things from the Cyanobacteria perspective. I channeled it as a techbro building the fastest growing business 10X in Wexford with a huge slice of green washing. It’s CV published on April fools day on my LinkedIn in. I wrote a short monologue from its perspective about how 3.5 million years ago this bacteria was an oxygen architect, a nutrient wizard a resilient innovator. I’d ridiculous fun. But to what end?
Perspective. To think and challenge myself on what it means to be moved to change.
Absurdity is all too real these days. Playful challenge to our own narratives are useful devices but attending to when there is already too much chaos adding more is not useful.
Segway, I’d never known the history of Aprils fools day this year for some reason I got curious to look it up and shared it in a tiktok video.
Here’s the poem I wrote after all that playfulness and it lands more critically.
Read in the garden yesterday I posted it also to Tiktok maybe not the best platform perhaps this should all be going on my patron?
The death of a Lagoon is delicious
On Friday night in Tacumshane I was fascinated how easily the locals got up and sang, told jokes and stories. It made me wonder what kind of houses they grew up in that being performative rolled out of them so easily.
It emboldened me and I also read my poem from October 2023, Love letter to bejewelled cobwebs:
this is the poem mentioned in the Seeding Ourselves 7 minute film that is now being made into a feature length movie called Dear Ancestor. The 2 minute trailer is really rather wonderful, The narrative that appears on screen with the music before Stephen Rea begins speak is just perfect. Next comes my voice and the words I wrote. The trailer features me & Stephen Rea!
Go watch it on my about page.
This week has me finalising that report, continuing work on the Community Lab, prepping towards two conferences the the next few weeks. I have 2 days capacity per week in April and 3 days a week from May. Let me know if your business needs some of what our business deliver.
Thanks for reading, I appreciate you being here.
Slán.
Roisin Markham 
Leave a comment