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“A victory for ordinary, decent folks” booms Nigel Farage (Brexit), blinking in a sickly dawn light as if he is some kind of jovial Robin Hood figure. As if he had just done us a favour. Well, forget that. If ever a time required us not to be ordinary, it’s now. We have just entered…

INTERVIEW WITH DR. MARTIN SHAW On The Westcountry School of Myth Why should people attend? Well, there’s no ‘should’ embedded in the invitation. There’s urgency, there’s beauty, but there’s no ‘should’. For the abstractly curious I recommend giving it a wide birth. It’s not a training school for storytellers exactly, and it can’t promise you…

“We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of the world. To make injustice the only measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.” Jack Gilbert, A Brief For The Defence Europe is ablaze again. Paris, Brussels. That ancient, ghastly monster has lurched grotesquely up, and shovels terrified parents,…

I be coming from wistmans wood sir and I fell into dreaming under the scrubby trees till the trees dreamt me sir Hey there, hello, it’s good to see you. Scatterlings is coming later this year; and here’s a small excerpt: On Mythtelling: This is weft and the weave of story for me. The endless…

February. And not a moment too soon. I glimpse around and see work that needs completing – one of which is the Lorca poems i’ve been working on these last few years with Stefan Harding. Lorca’s so tremendous. He tells the story of an old woman who once glimpsed Santiago and was blessed by him….

All hundred and fifty psalms roar hallelujah Yehuda Amichai I have described the weather of Devon in different ways, but the binding agent is usually rain. Buckets of the stuff. How I love it. Sky is sheet metal grey, the wintered trees have their skinny pale arms raised and imploring, but it looks like all…

Devon weather is not for everyone, I admit. Today sea, hill and sky are all the same churning grey and the rains jagged like a lively slash from Zoros blade. A day for a woodpile and pots of tea and maybe a visit from a friend or two as darkness falls. I’ve been on the…

October comes waltzing, and the open road beckons for this teller: Europe and then onto Canada for the Mythteller Intensive at Hollyhock, Cortes Island. This will including an co-hosted evening of conversation, wonder, speculation and occasionally unfounded opinion with me and my friend Stephen Jenkinson. There has been a rush for tickets for the wider…

Paul Kingsnorth’s novel The Wake tells of the aftermath of the Battle of Hastings and is written in a contemporary version of AngloSaxon. Originally crowdfunded, it became a literary sensation, was longlisted for the Man Booker Prize and then actor Mark Rylance bought the film rights. In this event, Kingsnorth and Rylance discuss and read…

As i’ve wandered through this summer, I’ve brooded on the migrations of stories: we’ve had hundreds at Calais recently, trying to get into England. So, below is a repeat of a post I put up when this year was but a fledgling. It’s really part of a wider questioning on the perennial role of the…

** fridays event in london completely sold out. Maybe some returns on door. Check Crick Crack Club for details” *** Been missing Coleman recently. I have my very favourite Rumi book of his: “Feeling the Shoulder of the Lion” right next to me on this early-morning desk with my coffee and mug and the cat…

The room is to walk from moonlight to sunlight. Like a womb, glowing like the yoke of an egg. In its centre is the small painting, which seems the source of the luminosity. The rug has been pulled, an ember leaps from the fire – the king’s heart strikes an old, low note, and he…