Gwaith 20: Leaving Stiwdio Maelor

Last week I finished my third residency at Stiwdio Maelor. My first was eight weeks in 2015 and my second was the five weeks I spent there in September and October last year before I went travelling for five weeks. The third residency was for 11 weeks, broken only by the six days spent in Germany catching up with Jo. So, I’ve spent almost 24 weeks at Stiwdio Maelor, to the point that, as a friend said at the Corris Institute café one Tuesday morning, Corris is my second home.

Clouds over Corris

I do feel I have set down some roots, however small, in the village and I was saddened to pack my bags, say goodbye to all the friends I made, many of whom came to The Slaters the night before for farewell drinks, and jump in a car to be taken to Machynlleth Station for my train to Birmingham International and the start of my trip home.

Now that I staying in the USA with one of my sons for two weeks, visiting another son, and enjoying the snow, which hasn’t fallen so heavily hereabouts for several years, I want to check my achievements during my residencies against the targets I set myself before I left.

Writing

The main target, naturally enough, related to my novel. I had hoped to complete the third draft before I left. This wasn’t the case. I only completed around 75% of the draft, around 150k words. However, as can be seen from below, I wasn’t exactly relaxing. I managed to write a number of other things.

New scene cards for the novel

 Novel:                      75% (150k)—approximately 7k words/wk, 18 hrs/wk

                                  (counting my five weeks of travelling)

Interdraft Work:        39,771 words

Short Story:               One (unexpected)

Poem drafts:              11

Haiku drafts:             36

Blogs:                       18

I also ran a poetry workshop at Canterbury Christ Church University, gave a reading at Stiwdio Maelor during the Christmas Open Day in November, and gave a talk to creative-practise PhD students at Aberystwyth University. Even though I didn’t reach my target, I’m happy with what I achieved.

Night photo of Aberystwyth, taken from Veronica's PhD studio at Aberystwyth University

Language Immersion

I have been learning Welsh on and off for a number of years on a Tuesday night at The Celtic Club in Melbourne. My level of skill wasn’t too great when I left for Wales, mainly because teaching and writing commitments had meant I hadn’t spent as much time as I would have liked on Welsh practice. During my first residency, I attended some classes and groups and I intended to do the same this time around. I knew I didn’t have a hope of achieving fluency, as I knew others had done by virtually devoting all their time when in Wales to finding opportunities to practice their Welsh, but I did hope to improve in some small way.

Mist and snow at Llyn Tegid (Lake Bala), during my two-day Welsh course nearby

Every Monday I attended a class in Dolgellau and every Tuesday morning I joined in Welsh discussion at the Corris Institute café. I also attended several one- and two-day courses, as well as three Noson Siarads, dinners where only Welsh was supposed to be spoken. Although I can’t claim fluency yet, I did find myself holding conversations longer than one or two exchanges and at times felt myself responding automatically in Welsh. I also was complimented on both my accent and my vocab, so I must be doing something right.

Sky and a dash of sun-stain on the trees

Landscape Immersion

As with my hope that learning the language will somehow help me with the writing of the book (and connect me with my ancestral roots), I also hoped that experiencing the landscape of Britain would help me create authentic settings for the novel. I visited a number of sites I am using, both in Wales and Scotland, and was in the country long enough to experience late autumn and winter. While in Corris itself, I went for numerous walks and right up to the last week I was discovering new tracks, one of which took me on a three and a half hour ramble. I have learnt about trees, seen red deer, red squirrels and badgers, seen and heard red kites and numerous other birds, climbed mountains, sat next to rivers, walked through snow, wandered around megalithic circles and sat in tombs. I have probably absorbed more than I realise and can only hope the experiences came out in my words at some point.

Mist over the war memorial of Corris, from the sun melting snow 

Photo of Llyn Mwngll or Llyn Myngul, more commonly known as Tal-y-llyn

Finally, there are the people I have met, from the people in the village of Corris to the residents at Maelor I have spent time with. I want to thank them all for being welcoming, friendly, inspirational, supportive, and encouraging. My thanks to the previous manager at The Slaters, Brian, and the current manager, Mike. To Andy and Adam at their café for the great food and coffee and their wifi. To Eleanor, Chris and the other volunteers at the Corris Institute café. To Jan at the post office for her help with my packages to be sent home. To Ellie, Diane, Inge, Beryl and others in the Welsh conversation group. To Bethan Gwanas, my Welsh teacher in the class at Dolgellau, and Mike H, Mike K, Dee, Sue, Laura, David and other fellow students. To Martin for discussions about Cadair Idris legends and Welsh language and poetry. To Hickey, Jane and Kevin, and the other regulars at The Slaters. To Eileen and Arthur, for their lifts into Aberystwyth and conversations about poetry and geology. To Simon and Andrew for conversations about landscape writing. To Lez, for his blacksmith course and his help with my many questions about the craft. To all those residents I met during my residencies—including Freya, Yuki, Chloe, Linda, Beth, Bronwen, Christina, Gwen and Chris, John, and Brett—for the discussions, the pints at the pub, the shared meals, the trips to various sites, and the inspiration and encouragement.

One night at The Slaters, with Gwen, Chris, Yuki and Bronwen

Most of all I want to thank Veronica Calarco, the founder and coordinator of Stiwdio Maelor, for her vision, her persistence (even in trying situations), and her hard work, in creating such a wonderful place for artists and writers to take time out from their normal lives and explore their ‘craft or sullen art’, as Dylan Thomas put it. Most of all, I want to thank her and her partner Mary for their friendship.

In my last days in Corris, many people asked if I’d be back, then said before I could answer, ‘I’m sure you will’. True. I will be back, for I have made many friendships and I find the village and the landscape around it inspirational. I also want Jo to meet everyone and see the sights I love.

Thanks again, Stiwdio Maelor and Corris.

Corris from near the summit of Mynydd Fron Felen (Mountain of the brown/yellow hillside)

I hope you enjoyed this post. As always, I welcome your comments.

Flying over the pole to Seattle

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

Gwaith 17: Snow in Corris

Haia Pawb (Hiya Everyone)

A couple of weeks ago, we had a little bit of snow, though the temperature wasn't cold enough for it to do more than settle in nooks and crannies on the tops of the hills surrounding the town. However, this morning I woke up to snow covering the ground and still falling.

View out my bedroom window

After taking some photos from the front door of Stiwdio Maelor, I threw on some clothes, including my waterproof overpants, and went for a walk.

From the Stiwdio Maelor doorway

When I first wandered up the road, the snow was falling so fast I thought I might not last too long. However, it slowed down after a few minutes and after I took some photos close to the village, I went up past The Italian House.

A field just down the road 

Birds dancing on the snow?

Today was not my first experience of snow. I have visited snow fields near Melbourne. However, this is the first time I've actually experienced walking through softly falling snow and walking on a thick covering of snow. One thing I noticed was the sound of my boots with every step on snow that no one else had traversed, a crunch-pop as the weight broke through the top layer of snow crust and burst through to the softer stuff below. Not quite the snap-crackle-pop of that old TV ad for Rice Bubbles, but close.

Below are more photos from my walk:

My footprints 

The Italian House

The trail to the lookout

Once I brushed away the snow from a flat slab of slate, my usual meditation spot at the lookout, I sat down to absorb the view of white crusted trees, swaths of snow on nearby rocks and smothering the bases of trees, and the distant slopes half hidden by mist, half bleached by snow.

Distant view from the lookout

Closer view of trees

Some ruins at the lookout

The Arthurian pool at the back of the lookout

From the pool

Whenever the traffic from the main road on the other side of the valley disappeared, all I could hear were the occasional creaks of pine trees as they bore the weight of snow, the constant tumble of water into a pool to my right, and the soft plops of snowdrops on my jacket. Every now and then a robin, a coal tit, a tree sparrow or some other hidden bird would trill, tweet, chirp or chit-chit-churr its appreciation or annoyance at the chilly whiteness around us.

An old slate miner's house

The trail down the other side of the hill

By a local kid

By the time I returned to Corris, the road was wet with snowmelt, and, as the day wore on, the snow disappeared, drawn up by the hidden sun’s heat into a mist that hung over the valley.

Corris in Snow

As always, I hope you enjoy this post and I welcome your comments.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

What do you think? More tomorrow!

PS. I realise I have been quite lax in posting news of my travels. My excuse is that I have been busy with the Christmas trip to Germany to catch up with Jo and with tackling my 3000+ words a day of draft three work (which has not been entirely successful), plus Welsh language and landscape immersion. I’ll write another post soon to let you know the status of things. Thanks again for your ongoing support.

Gwaith 16: Frost at Midday

Helo Pawb

This is just a quick post to show you more of the cold weather under a bright, blue clear sky that I am experiencing here in Corris.

Facing north, on the path running along the fields beside Afon Dulas

After my Tuesday morning Welsh Conversation meeting at the Corris Institute, I went for a walk along my favourite river, Afon Dulas. Even at 12pm, 1pm, 2pm, frost still covered the nearby fields. The village is in a valley that runs roughly north-south, so the sun takes a while to climb above the pine-covered hill and start working on the frost. Even when it was visible, the temperature, courtesy of the cloudless sky overnight and during the day, was still low, so that as I walked, my breath plumed around me.

Sheep cropping through the frost-covered grass

Apart from the frost itself, highlights of this walk included seeing two grey squirrels prance away daintily at my approach; standing still in a field and listening to the irregular dripping of frostmelt from the bare branches of nearby oaks and beeches; and watching six F-15Es, possibly from RAF Lakenheath, roar over the hills and across the valley as they travelled the regular exercise route known as the Mach Loop. As if in defiance to their thunderous flights, after their third pass a red kite appeared above the same hill the jets flew over. At first I thought it was a distant plane, but no rumbling preceded it. The bird rose quickly on updrafts, then winged its way high across the valley. Not unlike the Tornadoes banking and producing contrails, at one point sunlight glinting from the edges of its wings, before it disappeared in the pine woods on the opposite hill.

So, below are more photos from the walk:

Frosted plants in the village

Close up of a frost fern

Frost on one of the kissing gates along the path

Frost on a field

Sundazzle on Afon Dulas

Frozen surface of a pool near Afon Dulas

A F-15E banking as it passes over Corris

Frost on the roof opposite my studio, as I was writing this blog.

As always, I hope you enjoy this post and I welcome your comments.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

Gwaith 15: Quick Update

Helo Pawb

I arrived back at Stiwdio Maelor in Corris two weeks ago. Apart from a few days over Christmas, when I catch up with Jo in Germany when she travels there with our good friend Soni, I will be here till the end of January working on the third draft of my novel. I plan to write blogs about my progress and anything else of interest, and will also continue to record my research findings during the five weeks I spent travelling around Britain. I hope this mixture of past and present events isn’t too confusing.

As for the novel, some of my research meant I had to go back to the start of the draft and tidy up settings and events in some of the scenes. At the end of my first five weeks at Maelor the third draft stood at 30,556 words. In these last two weeks, I have edited those words and added more than 10,000 words, so that as of yesterday the draft stands at 42,000 words. For me to finish the third draft, which keeps growing, I will need to edit/write approximately 3,000 words per residency day. This is a little harder than it sounds, as I’m a slow writer and I am also trying to fit in my Welsh language and landscape activities, which themselves feed ideas, tone and atmosphere into the book. On top of these tasks, I help out with some Stiwdio Maelor activities, such as the Open Day next Saturday (3 December), at which I’ll be reading a short story and poems written during my time here. Anyone in the area is welcome to come. The Facebook link is here.

Open Day Invitation

Below are some photos of a walk I took early yesterday morning, with the first frost on the ground.

Frost glueing a leaf to the slate banister of the 'zig-zag' steps that start near the Corris Institute

Crunchy frost underfoot

Shadow self-portraint with frost and late autumn birch trees

Walking back to Corris, facing east

Wood smoke drifting over the village

As always, I hope you enjoy this post and I welcome your comments.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

Gwaith 8: Din Lligwy (8 Oct 2016)

Helo Pawb (Everyone)

Given my early arrival at Ty Dderw, I decided to go for a walk. As I was leaving Corris three before, one of the villagers had said that Ynys Môn (Anglesey) had its own microclimate, which certainly proved to be the case. In Corris, the blackberries had vanished, but as I walked down the long pathway from the hotel to the road, the hedge on both sides was filled with blackberries. I gorged myself on them as I turned up the road towards by destination.

Blackberries, ripe and ripening, in the hedge near Ty Dderw

One of the reasons I chose Ty Dderw for my stay, apart from the evocative name (which means Oak House), was its close proximity to Din Lligwy, the Roman-British farmstead I intend to use as a model for a village in my novel and which I wrote about last year. My intention this time, as with other sites I am revisiting during this trip to Britain, was to check out how the place looked and felt in a different season.

Part of the farmstead ruins, with late winter trees (taken in 2015)

Similar shot of the ruins, showing early autumn sycamore, ash and beech (2016)

When I was last at the site, I discovered that one of the buildings was used as a smithy. I found this discovery exciting, because my main character was the son of a blacksmith and I have come to feel blessed by such synchronicities. When I checked out the hut, I liked the fact that you stepped into it as if stepping into the Otherworld, a place of the gods. This discovery also felt appropriate to the world of my story. (Further research revealed that two of the rectangular dwellings on the site had evidence of smelting. It seems that, in imitation of Roman architecture, the rectangular buildings were used for workshops and animals, while the roundhouses were dwellings, a Celtic preference.)

Plan of Din Lligwy (source)

The entrance into the main smithy (top right hand corner of the above diagram)

The remains of a possible forge near the entrance

However, when I arrived at the site this time, I looked closely at some of the display boards nearby and became somewhat confused. The artist’s impression of the smithy itself shows it as a half-open building, with the forge itself in the open air, though other diagrams show fully enclosed buildings.

Display board at the site

Artist impression of Din Lligwy (source) 

Another artist impression, from a different direction--same as diagram above (source) 

From my experiences with The Blacksmith’s Barn at the Cooper’s Settlement and the Celtic Forge (which I wrote about here), I know which version is the more likely. The forge would be in a building with very little light, so the blacksmith can see the colours of the flames and the metal. The error in the artist impression isn’t really much of a problem, but it does highlight that even cultural preservation organisations can get it wrong occasionally. Either that, or the artwork was the equivalent of a ‘cut-away’ drawing, but this had not been made obvious enough.

What the artist got right was the depiction of bloomeries, which are used in the smelting of iron. It appears that archaeologists had found evidence of bloom—porous masses of iron and slag—and the artist had worked this into the painting. One bloomery is in operation (note the bellows at the bottom), while the other one is being 'harvested'. I had known about their part in Iron Age blacksmithing, but had not thought they would have been used in a small settlement on Ynys Môn. The realisation that this was not the case should help me enrich the setting and characterisation in the early part of the novel.

Detail, showing the bloomeries

A bloomery in operation. The bloom will eventually be drawn out of the bottom hole. (Source)    

After I had spent time wandering around the farmstead taking photos, measuring the width of stone walls, and making notes of trees and plants, I started back to Ty Dderw, but not before stopping off at the Neolithic Lligwy Burial Chamber to pay my respects to the ancestors of those who founded the farmstead. I sat inside the tomb for a long while to reflect on my intentions for the novel and to absorb the silence, which, unlike last year, no RAF fighter jets disturbed.

Robin singing as night approaches 

Artist impression of original tomb and mound

The massive capstone over the tomb

Sunset over Moelfre, the coastal village near Ty Dderw

That’s it for now. As always, I welcome any comments.

Cofion Cynnes (Warm Regards)

Earl