Jackie Morris/ website etc
Things I love
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- A Year of Reading
- Artique, Tetbury. A small piece of India in the Cotswold Hills.
- Bears: 30 years of painting them.
- Book List.
- A Hole in the Sky
- East of the Sun, West of the Moon: in between the lines.
- How the Whale Became by Ted Hughes
- I am Cat: Walking through dreams.
- Mrs Noah’s Pockets
- One Cheetah, One Cherry
- Something About a Bear.
- Song of the Golden Hare
- The Cat and the Fiddle
- The Lost Words; A spell of words by Robert MacFarlane.
- The Newborn Child
- The Quiet Music of Gently Falling Snow
- The White Fox
- The Wild Swans
- Walking with Cats ( Working title)
- What’s all the paperboat stuff about? Or: Living with a Playful Heart.
- Books in their natural habitat.
- Day of the Desk.
- Dragons in Torquay Museum
- Exhibitions and Festivals etc.
- Fishing in a river a thousand miles away.
- Mary Bear and Friends.
- My paintings in their natural habitat
- The Brides of Rollrock Island by Margo Lanagan.
- The House of Golden Dreams.
Author Archives: Jackie
Today, on the hill, chasing words for The Woodland Trust. I’m on stage with Tobias Jones and Zaffar Kunial for The Woodland Trust at Hay Festival. The event is sold out but we will be signing books afterwards, in the … Continue reading
If voting could change anything it would have been made illegal. That’s what the establishment think. We have a system of democracy, but it’s failing us. Why? Because we as voters are becoming disengaged with those in power and those … Continue reading
Writing today at Aberbach, then Abereiddi for a while. I placed a stone again, where fresh meets salt and watched some people walk past, not see, some people walk past, stop, pick it up and replace. The other that I … Continue reading
I left it at the beach when the tide was so low. We had walked our small pack of dogs, almost the last day on the beach until autumn, as the dog ban comes in. The tide was so low. … Continue reading
A picture on instagram, from Adam Buick, of a moonjar afloat in a calm sea. That’s where it started for me. This is what the caption said: Seven jars will shortly be set adrift across the Irish Sea, destined for the … Continue reading
Up the hill to search for words and more. The tree now washes like a green wave over the entrance to the lane. We pass through, to another time, where, dogs and ravens talk and play. She was roosting on … Continue reading
Up the hill, early morning, chasing the thread of the words in a story. I took two stones. One small, one bigger and the first I placed in a nook in the rock where I hoped it would not be … Continue reading
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As I drove away to place another stone I realised that I had left behind both camera and phone. I almost went back to get them, but then thought, no. I was heading off to sit on a beach and … Continue reading