I am fascinated by trees and our relationship with them. I realise now that my own experience of the tree protest movement in the 1990s was probably one of the most formative times of my life. I am beginning a project collecting stories, testimonials, responses, poems, whatever, anything and everything from people who want to share their tree stories. I’d like to make a book, and an aerial theatre piece. All and any contributions would be welcomed.
Earliest memories: Climbing the tree at the end of our road. Spiky branches spiralling up a rough narrow trunk like a staircase. Small body squished in amongst dense prickly pine branches. Reassuring dry scent; sticky resin on fingers. Curled up high by a bird’s nest. Sky beyond.