Tag Archives: life

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Hail Janus! God of gateways, doors, ending and beginnings.


Roman Coin Showing Janus

The last post looked backwards at 2008. This one is about looking forward to 2009, with a bit of reflection thrown in for good measure.

Drifting aimlessly is something of a natural condition for me and I can do it for quite disturbingly long periods of time. This can be a good thing; the ability to daydream is one of the sources of my art. However, it's not good for me to stay in that space for too long, so I've always used external deadlines and self-imposed goals to combat that tendency towards feyness.

Last year, I had great difficult setting goals - a reflection of how overwhelmed and burnt out I was. Although I clearly needed the time off, I found I struggled without the structure that goals give me. About halfway through the year, I started making a monthly list of the tasks in addition to my usual weekly lists. However, I discovered that unless things were obviously urgent, they had a tendency to fall off the bottom of my lists and never get done.

I realised that I was mostly being reactive rather than proactive and that's something I'd like to change this year. Thankfully, I've found a new tool that may help. Eliza from the Backyard blog recently plurked enthusiastically about Toodledo, an online task organiser. I tried to resist her siren call because I'm an absolute sucker for organisational systems and I can easily get sucked into endlessly re-organising my lists instead of actually doing any of the things on them!

I've tried lots of organisational tools over the years but they often fall by the wayside. I either find that they simply don't work for me or I start using them with great enthusiasm and then abandon them as being far too much trouble. It's early days yet but I think that Toodledo may be different - in less than a week, it's completely embedded itself into my life. I like the fact that it plots things on a calendar and you can easily assign folders, importance and deadlines to tasks plus it's quick and easy to alter things. It's nice and visible on my bookmark toolbar (I'm both visually orientated and forgetful - if I can't see something, it may as well not exist), opens instantly and most crucially, it's very intuitive. So thanks for that one, Eliza.

Anyway, on to my goal list...

2009 GOALS

1) Finish or frog three unfinished cardigans
I have already started working on one of these - I'm teaching myself how to crochet properly so that I can finish a cardigan that just needs a crocheted border. Two of the three cardigans have been nearly complete for at least two years now so I am determined NOT to have this unfinished knitting still lurking around at the end of this year.

2) Finish decluttering the house
Decluttering became unexpectedly important in the second half of 2008 and it still feels very vital and satisfying.

3) Visit Red in Amsterdam
Another repeat from last year: the current plan is for this to happen sometime in the spring.

4) Get my son through his GCSE exams
I'm clearing my calendar between April to June for this one!

5) Plant a vegetable garden
I've made a barter arrangement with a friend to share the produce in exchange for some help with the physical labour. So if I get too sick to garden, it'll still get done and we'll have home-grown vegetables - I'm very excited about this.

6) Get chickens
Having 'get chickens' as a New Year's Resolution makes me laugh. Regular readers may recall that chickens were mentioned last year. Well, my family have come round to my way of thinking, so Project Chicken Is Go!

7) Continue to do daily stretches
I'd like to do more regular cardiovascular exercise in 2009 but I haven't listed it as a goal because it felt too prescriptive. I'm more concerned with maintaining the successful stretching habit that I established in 2008.

8) Do 30 things from my 101 list
I've got three things in progress already.

9) Successfully grow things from seeds
I got a fantastic book for Christmas called The Thrifty Gardener. It's encouraged me to believe that I can grow things from seeds, even though my past attempts have not met with much success.

10) Start the linen series
Ah, an art thing at last. The linen series has been brewing for a while now and if all goes according to plan, it should be 2009's major art project.

It was good to re-read what I wrote last January about letting go of 'shoulds' when setting goals. Unconsciously, I replicated that attitude when deciding on my 2009 goals - all ten things on the list feel positive to me rather than restrictive or guilt-ridden.

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Happy New Year, folks. I've been meaning to update for ages but the urge to hibernate was too strong, so I gave in to my inner hedgehog.


Baby Hedgehog by Riude.
Image found on Flickr and used under a Creative Commons licence.

Left to my own devices, I'd probably carry on hibernating for at least another month but I have a busy January ahead of me, so I must poke my nose out of my comfy little nest and get back into the swing of things.

Traditionally at this time of year, I always spend a few days reviewing the old year and attuning myself to the new one. First, let's look backwards.

2008 REVIEW

Oh dear, 2008 was a bit of a grim experience. My word for the year was 'Balance' but it often felt that I only achieved it by lying on the floor and holding on for dear life! Although nothing absolutely dire happened in 2008, it felt like an unrelenting slog and I was damn glad to see the back of it. My son was ill in the first half of the year and missed six months of school, which was obviously very stressful. Then I spent much of the second half of the year being ill and quite profoundly unmotivated (probably because of the stress of the first half).

Art
Art-wise, this wasn't a very productive year for me. I continued making art whenever I was well enough but I didn't have a single exhibition - the first time this has happened since I graduated in 2002. This was partly because there seemed to be fewer interesting opportunities available but it was mostly because I couldn’t face applying for anything. Whenever I thought about sending in an application, I just felt like crying. In retrospect, it's obvious that I was slightly burnt-out after the daily intensity of The Diary Project in 2007.

Although I'm a bit irritated at myself for this wossy behaviour, I accept that after 6 years of working hard on my career, it's OK that I took a year off. And it was ultimately helpful because I've barrelled into 2009 with my enthusiasm for my career renewed.

Personal
The highlight of the year was obviously my fantastic trip to Australia in February and March. I'll be paying it off for the next four years but it was so worth it! If anyone wants to offer me any art opportunities in Oz, I'm totally up for it - it's an incredible place and I can't wait to go back.

Australian rainforest
Kirsty Hall: Rainforest in the Blue Mountains, March 2008

I also achieved the following:

Knitted 27 items, including 20 baby hats for a Save The Children appeal
This is the first time I've done any charity knitting and I found it hugely satisfying.

Read 81 books
This sounds impressive but this is actually a low total for me that reflects the amount of illness I was dealing with: normally I'm around the 100 - 110 mark.

Completed 21 things on my 101 List

I planted a flower bed in my garden and grew herbs, strawberries, tomatoes, sweetpeas and other flowers in pots. I also successfully propagated cuttings for the first time.

Completed 3 of my 5 2008 goals
Due to scheduling difficulties I didn't manage to visit my friend Red in Amsterdam, which was a big disappointment. I didn't complete all of my unfinished knitted items either. Never mind.

I started stretching daily
Apart from three days when I was incapacitated with bronchitis, I've done this every day for the last 35 weeks. This is huge for me. I've always struggled with exercise, I've never been sporty and in the past I've tended to throw myself into a new exercise routine and quickly give up because it hurts or I lose interest. So 35 weeks of regular stretching is incredible. I started very slowly with a couple of repetitions of half a dozen stretches and I've gradually increased both the range and number of repetitions that I do.

House
A lot of my art energy was redirected into domesticity in 2008. Since the summer, I've been engaged in a massive amount of decluttering and organising. A friend and I have tackled 11 different areas in my home and frankly we've worked miracles.

Although not directly related to my art on the surface, I know that decluttering has put me on a much stronger footing in that area. Crucially, my studio is now a manageable working space. I finally know what materials I have and where everything is: this should make a big difference.

I also accepted that I simply can't do it all and I need to concentrate on the areas of art that really matter to me, so I gave a lot of art and craft materials away. This has freed up a lot of physical and emotional space and I feel that my art is better grounded than it's ever been.

I've always been a 'leave it to the last minute, then work like a banshee' person but I've finally come to see that running on adrenalin isn't a sustainable model for my art practice. If I'm going to sustain and nourish my art without destroying my already precarious health, I can no longer indulge that excitement-seeking aspect of myself. (I know my family are going to be rolling their eyes at this bit; they've been trying to tell me this for the last bazillion years!). I'm overdrawn at the energy bank and I can't keep counting on 'exhibition energy' to pull me through - my inability to apply for exhibitions last year proved that much. I had simply exhausted myself past the point of being able to show and that's no bloody good!

An important aspect of moving towards a more sustainable art practice is the need for more structure and organisation in my life. I don't have the time and energy to constantly turn the house upside down looking for something I've lost. Nor can I afford to buy multiple copies of things I already own.

Conclusion

After several years of concentrating intensely on my career, I had a year where I focused on friends, family, my home and my health instead. One of my hopes for 2009 is that I can find a better balance between these often competing needs. I am already feeling much more positive than I did at the start of 2008 and things are already looking up for my career (more big news on the later very shortly).

My focus in 2008 was very much turned inward, which I found difficult at the time but now see was very necessary. It was a year of 'clearing the decks', re-evaluating what I want from my life and my career and laying strong foundations for my future art practice. Bring on 2009, I'm ready!

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I'm still coughing but thankfully I've been well enough to appreciate a bit of birthday pampering.
I've been having a lovely day filled with gentle pleasures - presents to unwrap; a favourite album to listen to; a hand massage from my love; a delicious lunch of cheese, meat, olives and bread from my favourite deli; a pleasingly expensive trip to the art store; a quick trip to the library to pick up a couple of books I had on order and yummy pan-Asian take-away for dinner.

I also got loads of online and text birthday greetings, a much appreciated card and cheque from my parents and phone calls from my mum and my granny.

An exciting pile of parcels...
Parcels
Kirsty Hall: Parcels, Dec 2008

My son gave me a gift box from LUSH, filled with delicious smelling bath bombs, including this cheerful liquorice and coconut snowman.
Bath Bombs
Kirsty Hall: Bath Bombs, Dec 2008

Steel earrings from my Beloved. I can't wear ordinary metals in my piercings, so I don't have many earrings and I was delighted to get these.
Steel Earrings
Kirsty Hall: Steel Earrings, Dec 2008

He also got me an Edward Gorey anthology, which by great good fortune includes The Doubtful Guest, my favourite of his stories. Even better was a CD of one of my all-time favourite albums, Songs For Drella by Lou Reed and John Cale. I only had a beat-up old copy on cassette and I was thrilled to have a new copy. This is one of the best albums ever written about fine art (admittedly this may not be a very large musical genre!)

Ooh, and let's not forget a rather fine French-looking bouquet delivered to my door.
Fancy Pink Ribbons
Kirsty Hall: Fancy Ribbons, Dec 2008

It got too dark to take good photos of the rest of the flowers but I managed one of a pink rose.
Pink Rose

The flowers came with a yummy box of chocolates too. Technically this is far too dark but I love the rich, opulent quality of this shot.
Opulence
Kirsty Hall: Opulence, Dec 2008

Still to come - gooey chocolate cake, a couple of episodes of Northern Exposure and a long hot bath with a book. Maybe I'll squeeze in a bit of art and knitting too.

I had fun photographing my day, I hope you've enjoyed sharing it with me. Over the last few days, I've finally felt my art mojo returning, which might just be the best present of all.

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Last weekend, my friend and I cleared out my studio.

Over the last five months, we've been systematically decluttering and organising the whole house. We've done: the enormous walk-in 'Cupboard of Doom'; the shed; the tool cupboard; the food cupboards; the kitchen; the medicines; my study and the big bedroom. As a result, a lot of stuff from other areas of the house that we'd decided should live in the studio had ended up piled on the floor in there.

It's hard to make art when your studio is this messy!
Messy studio 04
Kirsty Hall: Messy Studio, Dec 2008

I could hardly get to the desk...
Messy Studio 01
Kirsty Hall: Messy Studio, Dec 2008

There were piles of stuff everywhere. Some of it wasn't even mine.
Messy Studio 02
Kirsty Hall: Messy Studio, Dec 2008

By the start of the second day, we'd emptied and cleaned the space.
Empty studio 01
Kirsty Hall: Empty Studio, Dec 2008

There was nothing we could do about this peeling corner because it needs re-plastering, but at least it's cleaner than it was.
Empty studio 02
Kirsty Hall: Empty Studio, Dec 2008

By the end of day two, most things were boxed and labelled...
Tidy studio 02
Kirsty Hall: Tidy Studio, Dec 2008

...and neatly on shelves.
Tidy studio 01
Kirsty Hall: Tidy Studio, Dec 2008

We need to spend a couple more hours in there because there are a few unsorted boxes to go through...
Nearly done 01
Kirsty Hall: One Last Pile, Dec 2008

...and the jewellery area is like a whole mini-studio all by itself. We didn't have the energy or the correct boxes to tackle it.
Nearly done 02
Kirsty Hall: Still To Do, Dec 2008

But apart from that, my lovely studio is now a usable and inviting space again. Hooray!

Alas, after a couple of days where I was starting to feel better, the cold suddenly turned into bronchitis yesterday. I went to the doctor this morning and got antibiotics. Hopefully this will sort it out but words are still a bit beyond me, so here are some watery images from my Australia trip in the spring. Ah, how I wish I was back there swimming in the ocean instead of suffering through a cold dark winter in Britain!

Post, Manly Harbour
Kirsty Hall: Manly Harbour, March 2008

Ferry trail
Kirsty Hall: Manly Ferry Trail, March 2008

Green Water, Jenolan Caves
Kirsty Hall: Lake At Jenolan Caves, March 2008

Spray from the Manly ferry
Kirsty Hall: Spray from the Manly Ferry, March 2008

Green Ocean, Manly
Kirsty Hall: Green Ocean, March 2008

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Hi everyone. Unfortunately I'm still struggling with my health; I've been laid up with a stinking cold for the last week and I'm still recovering. I hope to be back to regular blogging by next week. In the meantime, here's a couple of photos I took on Wednesday. It was one of those wonderful, crisp, clear winter days and although it happened depressingly early, the sunset was just spectacular.

Winter sunset 01
Kirsty Hall: Winter Sunset, December 2008

Winter sunset 02
Kirsty Hall: Winter Sunset, December 2008

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LOST: ONE ART MOJO
If found, please return to Kirsty at Up All Night Again.

Sorry for the lack of posting folks, I've been down with a virus for the last few weeks. Needless to say, there hasn't been a shred of art going on. I always know when I've got something else on top of rather my usual Chronic Fatigue because I stop wanting to make art altogether. With this bug I didn't even want to potter around on the internet much, which is almost unheard off! Instead I've mostly been reading or knitting when I've not been in bed.

Thankfully I'm starting to feel a bit better and I hope to be back to my regular posting schedule within the next few days. In the meantime here are some autumnal photos to tide you over.

..............

I am always surprised by how red bramble stems can be.

Bramble Stem
Kirsty Hall: Red Bramble Stem, September 2008

I shot a whole load of this spider web. I was shooting directly into the sun and this is my favourite because it has just the right amount of glare.

Sunlight on broken web
Kirsty Hall: Sunlight on broken web, September 2008

The late afternoon sun made this tree glow with colour
Kirsty Hall, photograph of tree bark
Kirsty Hall: Tree Bark, September 2008

This wasn't a set up shot; I just spotted this fallen leaf on the bonnet of a car perfectly framed within the dark reflection of the tree above.

Kirsty Hall photograph of a bronze leaf on a black car with reflection of tree
Kirsty Hall: Bronze leaf/Black car, September 2008

Does everyone call horse chestnuts fruit 'conkers' or is that just a British thing? They are one of the ultimate harbingers of autumn for me.

conker shell
Kirsty Hall: Conker Shell, September 2008

The late afternoon sun looked incredible through our very grimy windows - sometimes muck and poor house-keeping is just so pretty!

Hazy window
Kirsty Hall: Hazy Window, September 2008

..............

How apt, just before I posted this, my itunes started playing the Lucinda Williams track, I Lost It, which has the following lyrics:

I think I lost it
Let me know if you come across it
Let me know if I let it fall
Along a back road somewhere
Money can't replace it
No memory can erase it
And I know I'm never gonna find
Another one to compare

Let's hope that art mojo is making it's way home because although I love reading, knitting and the wasting far too much time on the internet, I certainly won't find another obsession that annoys, infuriates and fulfils me in the way that my work does!

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Autumn is suddenly very much here (hey, what happened to our non-existent summer?) and I have been gleaning.


Jean-François Millet: The Gleaners, 1857

OK, not literally gleaning from the fields but definitely harvesting.

Several days ago I pulled up the dying dill plant in my windowbox of herbs, cut off the fragile seed heads and sat them in a bowl to dry.

Dill Seedheads
Kirsty Hall: Dill Seedheads, Sept 2008

Dill Seedheads
Kirsty Hall: Dill Seedheads, Sept 2008

Yesterday morning I sat, half asleep, and gently plucked aromatic seeds from tousled umbels. The ripe ones fell off easily, any that felt silky under my fingers I left to dry out further.

Dill Seedheads
Kirsty Hall: Dill Seedheads, Sept 2008

I ate one at the end of the task and the taste exploded in my mouth - one small seed so much stronger than a handful of the leaves.

Dill Seeds
Kirsty Hall: Dill Seeds In Bowl, Sept 2008

This morning I collected seedheads from the two poppy plants that arrived unannounced in my garden - in entirely the wrong place naturally! I cut them over a bowl to catch the tiny black seeds that spill everywhere with the slightest provocation.

Poppy Seedhead

I have been gleaning in my art as well. I am in a research phase so I've been reading a lot, using tiny scraps of paper to mark pages and then transcribing found words, phrases and ideas into my sketchbook. I've been searching through my boxes of images looking for just the right combination of visual information and trawling through ebay for the materials I need to start my next project. All seeds that will grow into something new.

Everywhere in my life; gleaning, gathering, hunting, harvesting, searching and storing.

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I thought I'd write about balance today. It's supposed to be my 'word of the year' but I don't feel I've been very focused on it or that my life has been very balanced in these last 8 months.

I remember walking along the beam in gymnastics when I was in primary school. It was simply an overturned wooden bench with a thick, solid cross-beam and it was probably only about 30cms from the floor but it might as well have been a rickety log above a raging torrent as far as I was concerned! I never felt safe on that beam and I often fell and had to go back to the start and try again. I was not an athletic child and my balance was never great. Of course, I might have done better if my imagination hadn't been soaring above me, so that I was secretly half convinced that I was a spangly circus star on a terrifyingly thin wire suspended above a gasping crowd.

Last Monday my son returned from his summer in Scotland and the rest of the week was spent getting ready for his return to school on the Thursday. It's always a bit of last minute scrum of haircuts, laundry and new school shoes and I'm sure that I'm not the only artist mother who has found her art falling by the wayside on the week that term starts. Some weeks, life simply takes precedence and art has to be shoved aside.

This week we should settle back into a normal term-time routine and at last I'll have more studio time but even though it's positive, these transitions still hit me hard. This year was even more stressed than usual because due to illness, my son hadn't been in school since Christmas. Fortunately he made it back without incident and although I have a lot of residual anxiety, things seem (fingers crossed!) to be OK now.

It recently occurred to me that I secretly believe there's a perfect life/work balance that can be miraculously attained and then indefinitely and effortlessly maintained. Whereas in reality, I'm still this distracted kid who constantly falls off the beam and has to go back to the beginning. When I'm parenting, I feel slightly irked that I'm not making my art but when I'm making art, I feel slightly guilty that I might be neglecting my parenting. It's never a perfect balance: I am always on the wrong end of a see-saw or spinning frantically on a roundabout feeling sick and wishing I could jump off.

And in truth, that's how it is for all of us because balance isn't balance if you can't fall. To be mutable, unstable and ever-changing is simply the nature of balance - if a thing is steady, immovable and fixed then there's no need for balance at all. And whose life is steady, immovable and fixed? Certainly not mine!

In my more enlightened moments, I understand this but enlightenment - like balance - constantly slips from our grasp. So here we all are, balancing on our thin little lives and constantly shifting our weight from one side to the other. Maybe we're smoothly adjusting to the airflow around us or maybe we're juggling plates on the high wire, frantically wobbling and worrying that we are about to fall off!

I once saw a short film that involved a man standing in front of a sign. One arrow of the sign was labelled ART while the other, which pointed in the opposite direction, was labelled LIFE. The man hovered indecisively and anxiously between them, running off first in one direction and then a moment later running back the other way. Back and forth he went at varying speeds and for varying lengths of time, occasionally slumping against the sign in utter exhaustion. Art/life, life/art: a constant struggle, a constant search for balance. The audience, largely made up of artists, was in fits of laughter, all of us clearly experiencing comedy of recognition.

As I grow older, I realise that, as John Lennon said, "life is what happens while you are making other plans". This is my life: this muddle of half tended garden plants; a child who needs new school trousers (even though he said he didn't!); a messy, neglected studio; a house in a state of flux from bouts of decluttering; emails left unanswered; blog posts unwritten; a head full of half-baked art ideas and always more things on my to-do list than my health can truly handle.

Yet I still walk across that beam every day; some days feeling the cavernous drop beneath my feet, some days seeing that I am really only 30cms from the ground and perfectly safe. And I think perhaps you do too...

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Last week was awash with celebrations - a birthday, an anniversary, a day out, a tie-dye party and BBQ and a good friend staying for the weekend. Between all that and the inevitable exhaustion, I had no time or energy for blogging but I've been itching to tell you about the day out.

Last Tuesday, for my partner's birthday, we visited the gorgeous Virtuous Well over in Trellech.

Kirsty Hall, photograph of The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: The Virtuous Well, August 2008

Once one of the major towns in medieval Wales, Trellech is now a small but archaelogically fascinating village about a 45 minute drive from us. We'd discovered the well quite by accident the previous week after a visit to Tintern Abbey and we decided to go back with a picnic because we'd fallen in love with the place and we wanted to find the standing stones that had eluded us the week before.

The Virtuous Well or St Anne's Well is a Christianised well almost certainly built over a Celtic sacred spring. It's a lovely place; it's in a field just off a country road but it feels about a million miles from anywhere. You can walk down into the well and sit on little stone seats while you soak up the atmosphere. There are little alcoves where you can leave offerings - on the first visit I picked buttercups from the field, this time we brought sweet peas from our garden.

The water contains iron, which may be responsible for its reputed medicinal qualities. The water was thought to be especially good for 'complaints particular to women', which would make sense if the woman in question was anaemic from endless pregnancies and breastfeeding.

Above the well, people have festooned a tree with fabric offerings.

Kirsty Hall, photograph of fabric offerings at The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: Offerings at The Virtuous Well, August 2008

This is a very old British custom: tying pieces of cloth called clooties or clouties onto trees beside sacred wells is believed to have Celtic origins.

Originally people would leave pieces of clothing that had been soaked in the well water in the belief that their ailment would pass from them as the cloth rotted. These days, a more eclectic variety of (mostly) fabric offerings are left. I noted a plethora of ribbons and strips of torn cloth interspersed with more unusual items including scarves; a pair of underpants; socks; a martial arts belt; a ceramic medallion; hollow blown eggs; a hand-crocheted flower; numerous hair decorations; strings of beads; shoelaces; knotted plastic bags; the remnants of a balloon; bright yellow fruit netting; a Tibetan prayer flag and even a cuddly toy. They were all knotted and tied together in what I felt was a genuine outpouring of decorative and sacred expression.

Kirsty Hall, photograph of fabric offerings at The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: Offerings at The Virtuous Well, August 2008

Kirsty Hall, photograph of fabric offerings at The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: Offerings at The Virtuous Well, August 2008

Kirsty Hall, photograph of fabric offerings at The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: Offerings at The Virtuous Well, August 2008

Kirsty Hall, photograph of fabric offerings at The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: Offerings at The Virtuous Well, August 2008

Kirsty Hall, photograph of fabric offerings at The Virtuous Well, Trellech
Kirsty Hall: Offerings at The Virtuous Well, August 2008

I read one review of the well that decried the modern cloutie rags because some of the fabric is man-made. But I loved them all. There's a raw honesty to this sort of spontaneous folk installation that I find very appealing.

While it might be better if people thought ahead and brought biodegradable offerings, I love that people aren't constrained by what might be thought as proper but instead offer the item that they are moved to leave. While many of the offerings have obviously been deliberately chosen, I suspect that many people find the well by accident and leave what they have on them in an instinctive response to the existing offerings. It certainly explains the hair ties and beads.

And really, who cares if it isn't 'authentic'? It's far more important to me that this place is still in ceremonial use. And who gets to define authenticity anyway? Perhaps the person leaving a sock was genuinely trying to heal their foot? Perhaps the grimy, slowly rotting underpants were originally part of a fertility ritual! There was no graffiti on or near the well and there was no rubbish lying around. Everything that had been left had been done so neatly, carefully and reverently. Sure, some of the offerings could be seen as irreverent but the way they were placed suggested that they weren't. Surely authenticity isn't something that's set in stone but is, instead, a reflection of what people actually do.

Should I have gone and removed all the artificial objects from the tree in a futile longing for some sort of sacred or environmental purity? I don't have that right. And I simply don't want to. If folk customs such as leaving rags at wells are not to fade into obscurity then I think we need to accept that they will change and that some people will leave cotton Tibetan prayer flags while others will leave neatly tied plastic bags. And taking the long view, perhaps one day future archaeologists will unearth 'inauthentic' plastic beads and fragments of polyester ribbon that have fallen from the tree and been buried in the earth and they will know that this was once a sacred well. For all its wonderful qualities, cloth made from natural fibres is in pretty short supply in archaeology, especially in somewhere as damp as Britain.

The well, in all its splendidly inauthentic authenticity, is a very special place and one we plan to return to regularly. On our first visit - when we couldn't find the very large, extremely phallic and quite hard to miss Harold's Stones - it really felt as though we were meant to find the well instead. If we'd visited the stones as we'd planned, we wouldn't have had time to visit the well and might never have returned to discover this little gem.

Oh, and one last funny thing - when I was checking on Flickr to see if there were any other photos of the well, the first image to appear on my screen happened to be this photograph of my friend Ally, taken by another friend, Camilla. Having found the well by sheer coincidence in the first place, I laughed and laughed...