This is my starting point into how the foraging ritual is the lost art form of womanhood, and how we can explore this as a way to create a sustainable practice.

I will be looking at how these rituals were lost, what we need to do to find them again, and show how this is vital and important for a sustainable future…

Embarking on this journey, I invite you into the tapestry of my past, woven with tales from my North West upbringing that have shaped my current quest for connection. These stories, once distant whispers, have become the threads intertwining my love for nature, foraging, and a newfound yearning to explore the enigmatic realms of womanhood.

From an early age, I was captivated by the wonders hidden in the earth, collecting plants, stones, and oddities to craft my aromatic concoctions. My grandmother mistook my pursuits for treasure hunting, unaware of the fragrant potions brewing in my youthful hands.

The echoes of family expeditions along disused railway tracks linger, "picking" blackberries, elderberries, sloes, and crab apples for wines and pies. Memories punctuated by the occasional explosive mishap as my mother's homemade wines pushed their glass boundaries.

Though I continued berry-picking sporadically, it wasn't until my health faltered five years ago that foraging evolved from a hobby into a lifeline. Desperate for a different approach to wellness, I delved deep into the world of plants and their untapped potential.

 My mother, a formidable and creative force, wielded her intuition like a double-edged sword. She regaled us with tales of her youth, where whispers of her friend's gypsy heritage hinted at mystical abilities. Among these anecdotes, one story stood out. Unveiling a part of herself that she rejected, my mother grappled with visions that haunted her teenage years. The echo of her resolute refusal to embrace this innate ability, spoken with fiery defiance, remains etched in the depths of my memory.

These stories resonate with me now, weaving into my exploration of foraging, rituals, and the essence of womanhood. Life's diverse paths led me to the realm of artistry, but health setbacks interrupted that journey. Nature, as a source of solace and inspiration, became my refuge. As I turned to the healing powers of plants, the echoes of ancient tales, myths, and the silenced wisdom of women lingered in my thoughts.

"Women Who Run with Wolves" opened my eyes to the transformation of truth into fiction, raising questions about the plight of wise women and healers turned witches in the face of societal shifts. Were they not once revered for their knowledge of herbs and their ability to heal? Did they not succumb to the societal evolution that silenced their wisdom?

As an artist, woman, and possibly a descendant of those misunderstood as witches, my journey takes a turn toward the region where the Pendle witches once roamed. These pages serve as a chronicle, documenting my foraging adventures, artistic endeavors, and the resurgence of ancient connections.

Over the past three years, my practice has undergone a metamorphosis, adapting to the ebb and flow of my health. Amid contemplation, foraging has evolved into a profound interest. Immersed in tales of women deemed witches for their wisdom, my spirit aligns with a kindred pull toward these stories.

This is where my odyssey begins—a quest to understand why these connections were severed, and a determination to reignite them for the benefit of communities. My journey seeks to unearth sustainable practices embedded in the wisdom of the past, a legacy waiting to be rediscovered and embraced by communities at the grassroots level. Join me as I delve into the mysteries of my heritage, weaving together the threads of nature, art, and the resilience of forgotten wisdom.

Oh, desolate trees, once mighty and proud, Now withered and weakened, your spirits worn, Your branches, once vibrant, now bowed, I feel sorrow for the nature that's torn.

Man's hand, the harvester of your grace, a tragic affair, for in his pursuit, he tarnishes your space, Unaware of the emptiness he'll create and the connections he’ll destroy.

Oh, the irony of this merciless plight, man's greed devouring nature's wealth, he pillages the forest, blind to the light, unconscious of the imminent loss of health.

Your leaves, once lush, kissed by the sun, giving life to all who breathe the air, now tainted by toxins, the fruits of man's quest, nature's symphony silenced, each song undone, the harmony disrupted, we failed to be custodians of this beautiful Eden.

Man, dependent on your breath of life, Unaware that your demise is his own, he breathes the air, amidst his strife, unknowing the debt that must be atoned.

The waters run dark, poisoned, and foul, a consequence of man's relentless thirst, the creatures once thriving, now silent, an ecosystem shattered, a tragedy unrehearsed.

Such heartache, for what has been lost, the tapestry of life, frayed and threadbare, Man, the custodian, has betrayed the cost, Blinded by desires, reckless and unaware.

Yet amidst the gloom, a flicker of hope, a plea for redemption, a call to awaken, to restore the balance, learn to cope, to mend the wounds that man has forsaken.

Let us remember the symbiotic bond, between humans and nature, a sacred bond, for in its preservation, our fate is bound, a reminder that life's purpose lies beyond.

Oh, sorrowful trees, may your echoes resound, a requiem for the world we've allowed to decay, may man awaken, a new path be found, to restore your majesty.

For nature's destruction is man's own demise, A tragedy foretold, an ending unkind, let us change our course, open our eyes, to save the trees, the lifeblood of mankind.

The projects below are works in progress. Please follow me or keep checking back to see how they evolve and are added to, as I go more indepth with each of them.

I aim to delve into this inquiry within the comprehensive framework of my creative journey, meticulously documented on the website. This exploration will encompass an examination of my past artistic practices and their evolution up to the present, all while striving to provide answers and insights into the core question under consideration.

Research Question: In what ways can the integration of foraging practices and rituals into the creative process of female artists serve as a catalyst for examining sustainability issues, and how might this unconventional approach challenge established gender norms and assumptions regarding the interconnectedness of women, nature, and art?