A Trip to Newlyn Art Gallery
An Introduction to the Newlyn Gallery workshop by Leonora Ellis
The workshop at Newlyn Art Gallery was led with process-orientated writing instructions, helping us confront some habitual sequences we might subconsciously use when approaching writing. In most cases, my initial exploration of themes and topics to do with starting a new piece of work is methodically led and structured, which is somewhat counterintuitive for creative writing. The workshop was helpful to make us consider our own independent writing practice, particularly in creative scenarios.
Most of the tasks we were asked to complete felt personally meaningful, and we decided as a group if we were comfortable to share our work throughout the afternoon. Over this time, I became a lot more flexible with my writing, because we were encouraged to make mistakes, scribble out and move past conventions that writers sometimes subconsciously pursue. Rather than revising and editing one piece of work over the time we had together, we simply built up from what we had written before, gradually adding layers of meaning with each word or sentence, or with each word we took away.
We were given a variety of prompts: the colour blue, celebrated artworks printed on postcards, themes like preservation and family lineage. We had pots of blue ink, palettes, and paint brushes to help us investigate colour. Ink can create interesting dimensions and textures. Different shades of blue can make you feel opposing emotions. Pushing the paint around with our fingers and brushes, dying the paper, diluting it, and packing the colour on. Everything reinforced this idea that we are allowed to make mistakes in writing, change our direction, move words and ideas around.
There was an overarching instructional approach, but largely we were left to write unhindered by protocols, procedures, and skills. It felt quite therapeutic using this nonlinear interpretation of writing practice.
Image by Faye Cano Valadez
For the final task of the workshop, we were asked to write a short piece inspired by the theme of preservation. We finished the session by reading these aloud. We were encouraged to project our voices and perform our personal responses with meaning.
Preservation by Lizzie Wesbroom
Is preservation the fear of being forgotten?
If I keep this jumper that I never wear, my grandmother still existed.
If I smile and say good morning to the lady walking her dog, will that make their day? Will they go home and tell their partner, or will they have forgotten all about me? Then I no longer exist… to them.
Will you think of me in years to come? Will you remember my name? What if I bought you a birthday present or died in front of you right now. Preservation of the memory of me, but at what cost? I will be remembered as the girl who died. You may write about it in a book titled ‘Face to face with death’ and I will be known as the girl who died.
I cannot tell if it comforts me that I may be remembered, knowing how fickle and misinformed memory can be. For that reason, I don’t think I want to be preserved. There is nobody that knows how to preserve me… not even myself.
I will probably change my mind on this tomorrow.
Preservation by Joseph Kahn
Everything should be remembered and preserved. The good, bad and complicated. We should not forget the stories of the past, for history forgotten is history repeated. We need to remember that not everything we do now will be looked back on with positive thoughts. The next generation may ask us why we did something a certain way and what caused us to choose the path that we are walking down.
Nothing lasts forever. Our buildings will be torn down or crumble, names will change and fade from use. Fashion will change and morph, and countries and traditions will be adapted to be relevant to the current generation. We will change
We have to think about what stories we want to tell the next generation. For that is how they will remember us. Not with our perspective but with knowledge of how things turned out. Hindsight is a gift always given too late.
Image by Alicia Burden
Preservation by J. Cheese
This world will never be the same,
If we sustain, that which cannot be sustained.
Will we preserve the world
Or, will we preserve our ways,
Leading to darkened days
Where light gets blocked out by tidal waves
Vibrations can you feel it
That's just another earthquake
Because our lack of preservation made the earth Shake
They say milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,
But earthquakes bring debris to the shores
So I'm like how are you gonna preserve yours?
Preservation by Faye Cano Valadez
I remember you taking me to Frida's Blue House, the Casa Azul, on our first trip to México. You'd kept it a secret until the very moment we arrived, and the surprise was more than successful.
We were very close in those days, constantly making each other the gift of presence.
Later, that kind of magic got lost along the journey, and México became but a stale reminder of this loss.
Today, our daughter's DNA spans a bridge between continents. And I hope that one day, we take her to Frida's Blue House and rekindle the excitement and the shared love for this beautiful home-country of yours.
Preservation by Alicia Burden
In a life that is so rushed, so full and busy, it seems there is no moment to take it all in. My brain is always brimming with thoughts of full washing baskets, unwritten essays and unanswered texts. In the moments where it all gets too much, I find I only fill my head with more by scrolling through my phone and zoning out for hours.
But I crave open space and fresh air. The chill of autumn wind flicking up from the choppy sea, or the damp fog of a woodland walk. That is what heals me.
There should be more moments of my life to preserve and remind me what it is all about. I want to be able to capture my life in snippets of my own adventures rather than those of strangers on the internet.
Image by J. Cheese
Edited by FalWriting