art

If You Find My Mother, Buy Her Flowers / Launch: 6th September, Edinburgh.

 

‘Two unmissable poets – Maria Stadnicka and JoAnne McKay – read from their new book published by The Poets’ Republic Press. This is poetry of superb craft that goes for the jugular in its observation of violence, war, migration and a world that is both familiar and strange.’ (Neil Young, writer and editor)

Friday, September 6th, 7.30pm @ The Waverley, Edinburgh, 3-5 St. Mary’s St., EH1 1TA. 

If You Find My Mother, Buy Her Flowers is written with JoAnne McKay, prefaced and edited by Hugh McMillan, designed by Neil Young, published by The Poets’ Republic Press, Scotland.

Image

Sky

Travels

©Ólafur Arnalds 2013, Music video by Ólafur Arnalds performing Only The Winds. (C) 2013 Mercury Classics, a Division of Decca Music Group Limited

Poetry Night @Stroud Book Festival 2018

Paul Henry @Stroud Book Festival 2018
Paul Henry @Stroud Book Festival 2018
Maria Stadnicka @Stroud Book Festival 2018
Maria Stadnicka @Stroud Book Festival 2018
Patrick Mackie @Stroud Book Festival 2018
Kate Carruthers Thomas @ Stroud Book Festival 2018
Adam Horovitz @Stroud Book Festival 2018

Wales. Time spent somewhere other than here.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

‘It is unfortunately hard to recall our quasi-permanent concern with the future, for on our return from a place, perhaps the first thing to disappear from memory is just how much of the past we spent dwelling on what was to come; how much of it, that is, we spent somewhere other than where we were.’  (de Botton, 2002)

Photography: ©John Stadnicki, 2018

Selfie(sh) Culture

Study I, 2018

Study II, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

Study IV, 2018

Study III, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

Study VI, 2018

Study V, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photography: ©John Stadnicki, 2018

Lingua Franca

Installation ©Maria Stadnicka

Sounds

Mixed media: Maria Stadnicka – ‘Sounds’

Plastic

The local MP came to visit today.

He played with his tie, in the half-empty boiling hot working class room.

Nobody offered him water.

He looked outside at the summery breeze and chewed his nails for an hour or so.

I tried to think of a question.

But all of them were already answered.

He paused and smiled at the camera.

I had a name-tag around my neck.

He had nothing.

I sat on a tree-legged small plastic chair.

He sat on a piece of cake.

Photograph: @John Stadnicki

Image

There are no better words than those which are heard.

shadow