This is a curious little film. One of my very first. I created this

I wondered if this may happen. As the drizzle descends on the new world

Green Man Language. Pond slime, buckets of it. Green, ish, yellow, brown, faecal stink,

Being Alder. The river melds with her voice. And the distant motorway. A trio

Tidal Dreamings. When I can’t sleep I imagine myself wrapped in the brown mudflats…

Conversation with Nettle. Nettle - what can I say to you? Bringer of poison,

The Moor The soil, black and thick. It runs deep and soft under a

I love it when the first leaves emerge after a long winter. This small