EDITORIAL AND CREATIVE DIRECTION – B G Nichols / Bran Graeme Nairne
ASSOCIATE EDITORS – Martyn Hudson, Emily Hesse
COVER ARTWORK: Pam Petro
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AnMór are a group of writers with a passion for promoting and disseminating creative works informed by landscapes lost, abandoned, forgotten, & mythic
PILOT EDITION CONTENTS
Dominic Cooper – ARTIST OF THE NATURAL WORLD
What colour might there be, one wonders, that does not already grow on some hillside, or in some wood, or in a distant corner of the sky?
Louise Kenward – 68 WINDOWS
Up here, the highest landmark for miles, there is an acute awareness of all my senses. The wind makes its presence known by its call. It slams at the glass, at this tower, over and over. And yet I don’t shake. The lighthouse stands firm.
Jon Woolcott – THE MEMORY PIT
The Hill was a constant presence, a reminder of the wild-on-the-doorstep, an escape route, a playground. It was our memory hoard.
Cal Flyn – ISLANDS OF ABANDONMENT
Overall, Harvie recorded over three hundred and fifty plant species on the bings – more than can be found on Ben Nevis – including eight nationally rare species of moss and lichen, among them the exquisite brown shield- moss, whose thin tendrils loft targes to the sky like an army in miniature. Over the space of a half-century, these once-bare wastelands had somehow, magically, shivered into life.
Martyn Hudson – THE LAND OF NOD
Most of the prehistoric rock art to be found on the moorland was excavated here, above the sea, as if to lock a shaman into grave with spells, with whorls and lines, and bells and fire.
Anonymous (10th Century) – THE RUIN
Nick Pepper- THIRLWALL CASTLE, NORTHUMBERLAND
This was not a landscape for lidos, holiday camps, or transistor radios, but an evocation of something intrinsically English reflecting and defining national characteristics through soil and scenery…
Dominic Cooper – THE OPEN PLACES (two excerpts)
A faint flaring of memories from out of our past, a vague awareness of ourselves as nothing but part of the wheeling processes of eternity, forever changing yet forever changeless…
Alex Woodcock – THE SKY AT BAYHAM
I wonder if places like Bayham aren’t disruptors of linear time in some way, a marbled whirl of different moments held in partial, crumbling form? A place of alchemical transformation where pasts and futures are untethered and unstable, a fixed monument to perpetual change? A mirror, indeed, to the clouds?
Emily Hesse – UNDER THE BEACH, THE FOREST
As an artist, my interactions with earthly matter are frequent and significant. I have learnt to visualise other worlds through the material of clay.
It is not the formation of such worlds I am interested in, but the worlds that exist within our own, the worlds of time past being the way in which we can imagine worlds of future.
Bran Graeme Nairne – ISLANDS IN MIND
It is perhaps a kind of atavism that I see the ancient past as a thick black smoke, drawn into the body in wisps and veils, into lungs and veins, a smoke, heady with the scent of primordial peat that carries within it the whisper of ancestral voices, lost words, and the rhythm of ancient song.
Martyn Hudson – GHOST MANIFESTO
The ice floes are disappearing to the north, hell has frozen over, the berserkers are not at rest. There was one hand of Grendel on the beam of the hall, two towers in Drogheda, three sheep on the garden wall, four spuggies on the hawthorn hedge, five stars on the burial howe, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve slave women hanging from the line of Odysseus.
Jeff Young – 17 TREES
Swirls of light wind their way through the seventeen trees, turning a negative into positive.
I lie down in the dirt and make a falling of myself into the earth, a memory of climbing down through tree-root, into memory itself, the mulch of autumn.
B G Nichols – THE MOOR, THE MIRROR
Like first steps, the eye is trained to see the ghosts within the moor’s compass, scouring the land through narrow waists of rock, skirting the hare-paths, shaking the hollows free of dissolved peat and wild weather.
Brighid Black – FISSURE (INVOCATION)
Limestone, water and bone
Past present and future
Ice mother sing
Ring through blue air
Splinter of stone and chill of bone
Dr Lizzie Fisher – SCHWITTERS
Schwitters found an easy equivalence – a notion fundamental to his theory of Merz – between art and nature in these surroundings, conjured with stippled paint surfaces evocative of the wind-ruffled surface of a lake or the texture of bark (used frequently in assemblages to stage tensions between the surface and what’s underneath) or in the elegant simplicity of a painted stone.
Deborah Westmancoat – ANCIENT SCENT
The Well spoke with a quiet, clear voice, the right place to be.
The stick used to guide the paper to the inner recess beneath the cairn was collected for the poet, a jar of well water collected for a future painting.
Birds singing, trees sighing, waters pooling. An ancient place of veneration and calm. A quiet prayer to the waters.
Emily Hesse – ANOTHER WOMAN’S SKIN
The slipping through cracks time
The time of forgotten forgottens and non-remembrance
Nothing but distraction and moments of faultless pleasure
The cartwheeling fall from grace
Laura Harrington – FIELDWORKING
We view a blade of grass swaying in the wind differently than if we watch a person doing the same, even though both are responding to the same forces, and I was interested in questioning that divide.