Letter to the Cottage : Jane Mason

Image 2



Mostly I’m thinking about what it can mean to be with someone. To giving attention to each particular process with a person and seeing where it goes. Taking proper time to listen. Bringing a focus to the body perhaps. Being responsive to possibilities, trusting in the idea of possibility that connections can and will come. Something could go further than might appear possible at first. But it’s here in these spaces, in these places of discovery with someone that I like to be. It’s scary too and it’s hard to explain what might happen. Time and again I struggle to describe it. But I keep asking myself the questions around how and why, and who I am through all of this, and it keeps me here.





letter to the cottage (sent 8.3.17)


Thank you fire, chair, bed, blanket, hot water bottle, window


Chord from the light, reminder of a distant home


Preparing to leave


Casting a net over moments caught


Supermarket café, choreography of shoppers through the panoramic aperture between two spaces


Stirling in the moonlight – Timeless


Teddy folded, squashed inside the coils of cable, pushed hard under the chest


Daring to touch each other


Water pouring out of the land – hands carrying


Late night man thinking about his funeral


‘Lambing is as close to birth as you can get’


Cold feet on stone, reposition sitting reposition sitting

The Witness Tree – horses, outlaws, night into day


Horseshoe curves in the road.  Valleys rolling. Medieval Castle, stonewalls stacked layered, angles over angles. Tower circle, winding staircase. Up down just me. No visitors inside these damp walls. Just me


Motorbike in pieces, over sloping grass


Hair splayed out in sundials


Guitar rock loud from the graffiti hole – Mouth and body mimicking sound


Black notes, colony of ants, pouring into the grand piano


Leaving a life behind – starting a new


Talking to people


Tremor of emotion – his every word


Love love for the animals


Reading to a child, missing mine


The gift of gingerbread


Time is what we have


And invitations to a possible other place


If only I could reach you

Leave a Reply