On Tea, Art as Therapy, and Creative Writing

In May 2023, Paper Cranes (the poetry collective that I run in Nottinghamshire) worked with the National Justice Museum, responding creatively to an art ehibition from the group C2C Social Action.

C2C worked with local visual artists and women in vulnerable situations (including those with experience of the criminal justice system, survivors of domestic violence, or folks with addiction issues) to produce artworks inspired by nature.

The project lab exhibition space at NJM showcased the artworks created, as well as a tea apothecary, celebrating local wild flora and its positive impact on human well-being. 

As part of the Paper Cranes writing workshop, we all wrote poems about the restorative power of tea. Each poet then wrote their favourite line from their poems on to a neon sticky note, and I arranged the lines into a collaborative poem. The final piece was published by the museum as part of Green Hustle 2023 programme. 


The Tea Apothecary 

Tea tastes of tears. My eyes are circles
swimming in tea. Ritualised grief, 
served with a baked biscuit smile – 
ready to be dunked.

It’s warm and wet. Cold hands encircling 
the radiating china. Pinch a couple of 
purple, dead nettles. Topping up 
old conversations and cups. 

Tales of disaster dissolved in gulps of tea.
Teacup catching tears. Many voices 
far and near, swelling and fading, resurging.
Water bubbles, kettled of charcoal. 

A toxic yet cleansing aroma. Bruised and scalded.
Dry your tears. Let’s put some brandy in. 
No brandy? Let’s pour in half a bottle of sherry!
There, that’s better. 

The taste was fine – tea plants green-leaved 
shining pearls, an open sea of shiny lime green,
rolling and swaying in the breeze.
Yorkshire tea does not mind its Ps and Qs.

After a while, my relationship with tea developed:
afternoons spent leisurely pouring and repairing.
Me, tea, biscuity – it stamps bold tannin on my tongue. 
Not for me a dark black leaf brew 

but a fresh, light, and cheery one with morning dew.
The taste of mornings under the sun,
of longing to leave, of longing to return.
The day hasn’t started until I’ve had tea.

The day hasn’t finished until it’s hugged me to sleep.
Pouring the end of the day into cups that we sip
Come in and have a cup of tea. 
I’ll put the kettle on. 

Paper Cranes hard at work, producing poetry!



Thank you to Andrea, David H, Dave W, Edwina, Gail, Jade, Kate J, Katey L, Margaret, Nova, Rosa, Sonya, Sue A, and Sue M, for contributing to this poem: 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

On Breaking up with the Moon

Image
Look, it just isn’t working. After all, I am  a woman and you? You are a huge sphere  of rock, tracing an elliptical orbit through space.  We’re from different worlds. You circumvent the  earth at two-thousand, two hundred and eighty-eight  miles per hour, and I just can’t keep up  with you. You’ve been so distant lately, but  two-hundred and fifty thousand miles is distance  enough for anyone. And I know you are wonderful.  The nights we spent together were glorious. But when  I don’t see you for weeks of cloudy skies  I start to feel jealous of the stars. Let me start again: I love the way you borrow the light of others  and reflect it back to them. You are so generous,  but we both know this isn’t going to pan out. Maybe  I just need some space. You can be so cold,  unforgiving, until I’m left wondering if there’s  life out there at all. Sometimes you overshadow  me until I feel eclipsed. And I’ll admit it: I’m a little  afraid of your dark side. And I wouldn’t say you’re  indecisiv
Read more

On love, dating and biscuits

Image
I’ve picked a silly one to start off the New Year! I recently revised this poem, in the hopes of performing it at SMUT in Nottingham. SMUT is a really cool poetry open mic that focuses on themes of love, sex and relationships. I wanted to read this poem out at their September 2023 event, but I didn’t manage to make it along in the end. So, you’re getting first dibs! Crumbs about two women and the obsession with biscuits that comes between them. Give it a cheeky read, and let me know what you think!  Crumbs  Some women live for football and some women love their wine, some women seem quite normal when you chat them up online.  But this girl wasn’t into kinky sex, or sport, or fashions. No, slightly more prosaic were her own obsessive passions.   The sight of diamonds didn't leave her blinded, like a rabbit; this girl had one fixation – an enormous biscuit habit! Our first date was a little odd – she called me up from Aldi to tell me she was stocking up on Nice and Garibaldi. I offer
Read more

On univocalisms - Slinky Crisps

Image
Another day, another univocalism!   I'm currently working on a project with a lovely group of excellent writers, creating a bunch of univocalisms, for publication in a little Zine. In case you don't know, a univocalism is a piece of contrained writing, where you're only allowed to use one of the five vowels. So, if you do an O univocalism, you're not allowed to use the letters A, E, I, or U, and if you do an A univocalism, you're not allowed to use the letters E, I, O, or U.  It's a really tricky poetry challenge, but I love it because it gives you the chance get out of a writing rut, and create pieces that you'd never write otherwise! Here's my first go at an I univocalism. Give it a look! (Content note for weird crisp fetishes!)  Slinky Crisps   It’s in district six: dim, slinky digs. Thick mist swirls, fills Tim’s ribs. Tim’s skin pricks.   This is Tim’s big wish:   this inn’s lit: Tim’s spying by dirty ‘sills spying girls with fizzy drinks, binging s
Read more