SF x WBF Writer in Residency is now in its second year!
This two part residency involves the writer immersing themselves in all things Spring Fling Open Studios and then presenting work in response to the event in May at the Wigtown Book Festival in September.
Armour – after Reach by Denise Zygadlo She doesn’t want the edges to fray, holds the muslin between thumb and forefinger like she holds the string of a balloon: not too much pressure, frightened to release. Then she wraps its length around one arm like gauze to the wounded, ta
Wedding Necklace for a Daughter – after the work of Lisa Rothwell-Young She takes hammer to the ore, asks it to resist her blows, stand up for itself. She wants it to be prepared for both the light and dark. Then she mottles its surfa
Frame – after the weavings of Joyce Woodcock Mother’s Almanac After a winter of spinning by lamplight, she follows the path of snowdrops, carries the loom and reel up the hill, weights it down beside her stone seat, where she can see the sea. First, she adds
Artist’s Proof – after Offerings by Sarah Keast Every feather on your head, the clear glass quill at its core, I wish to preserve. Each isle brave enough to lift its head from the Atlantic’s water and line up with the others like battle ships heading out to sea, is a place to
Lapse – after Zero Footprint Time Lapse, by Leeming+Paterson Here’s proof; the earth breathes while we’re not looking, wisps of air rise like conversation between the sleeping. Swap your lens and it exhales, fights to hold a blanket of mist from sky, or even o
Mirror – after paintings by Jeremy Carlisle He mixes the pigments, brushes lines of colour, waits for the edges to bleed, change shape and hue. Then he tries circles, a base layer of blue and grey, adds a single bright shade, like a family with an only child (any more, an
Solitary – after Café Study by Ceri Allen She chooses this space because she can’t tell where the walls begin and mirrors end, morning sun blaring like the DJ’s music from this corner last night. She’s not looking for an exit, isn’t loo
Compromise – after Forrest Picnic, by Clare Dawdry and Geoff Forrest He wanted a hamper to carry with him, she wanted bowls of blue, he wanted a stick to sling over his shoulder, she wanted a shape her hands knew, he wanted to weave them together, she wanted to pla
Wings – after Paper Shoes (Dragonfly) by Isabell Buenz She wanted paper shoes for her wedding, so that when the day was over, she’d feel earth beneath her soles, the sharp gravel on the path to her new front door. But her pair grew dragonfly wings, conical heels the length of he