July 2023 in Review - Inspiral London, SoilFood Fete @ Peckham Rye

I was hungover this morning when a friend I met on SpareRoon texted to see if I wanted to go to a community picnic. I slept through the picnic. I missed the wildlife walk. I arrived, four hours late. But, I arrived. Gotta see Peckham more.

I followed a WhatsApp location to the smallest of woodlands on the Rye. Tiny saplings and a small clutch of misfits. Oddly shorn. Unusually expressed. I clicked open the little gate and a notch formed around a small circular table where a woman started a geological presentation with lumps of London clay.

Let us hold it.

I was more than just hung over. I had just spent the morning prior with my heels in plastic stirrups. There had been a lot of 'all right', 'on three' and 'is that okay?'.

Very professional. I was disassociating. I was grateful. I was hoarse.

And now it was 4pm and I was sitting there with this heavy earth in my hand, on a bench so low to the ground. So many layers. I held them, wore them. Too many. what to do with them. Feeling worn.

'You can make something if you like' the lady said. Someone called Cerulean sat down next to me. Cerulean, like the colour blue. It made me think of Prince Rilian from the Silver Chair. A C.S. Lewis. Lesser known. Very good.

The book is about giants and secret lairs under the earth. Creatures in wet clay tunneling somewhere. SoilFood. Food for thought. Prehistoric soil in my hands all heavy and elemental.

Sat for half an hour and we all talked. About birds, and community cafes. About being strangers and learning. In my palm, a torso turning itself out of clay. Soiled bodies. Laid to rest. A fete. A fallow day.