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Now on to this week’s musings…
In the days immediately after Finn left, I went into the van, picked up my long idle tools and got building. This felt essential in a way that was more than a want or a desire, it was a genuine need. The first task on my list was the sliding door. With my gorgeous hessian in hand, I began the process of insulating and covering. As I worked, I was reminded of how often during this build I have found comfort, reflection, and empowerment in the metaphorical meanings of the tasks I am completing.
Letting Finn go continues to be an incredibly painful and complex process, with waves of sadness and pain mixed with the relief of knowing the choice is made and our new lives are beginning. Building a new door to that new life felt entirely appropriate and kind of amusing. Once the sliding door was done, I loved the hessian so much that I bought more and redid the back doors as well. It makes the van feel warm, cosy and home like in a completely different way. I have enough left to cover any bits of metal that are still visible, and to make a curtain for behind the seats.


The van build helped get me through my first few days without Finn, and then, unsure but unwilling to cancel, I bordered a train for a three-day course I had booked months ago. The course was called Using the Whole Animal and was run by an incredible woman named Theresa Emmerich Kamper. I had found her courses through Caroline Ross, who regular readers will remember as the artist and teacher who changed my life with nettle fibres. Theresa and Caro had kindly offered to pick me up at Exeter as I didn’t have a way to get from the station to the woodland the course was taking place in. Joyfully that meant having an extra afternoon and night in the woods.
Theresa is an expert in traditional living skills and primitive technology with a doctorate in Prehistoric Tanning Technologies. She runs courses all over the world. The three-days in Devon were a practical introduction to using every part of a deer. I can’t pinpoint my exact motivation for wanting to go on the course, I’d simply felt it was important and followed my instinct.
I will admit to having a moment of doubt, regret, and fear that I’d made a terrible mistake when I saw the beautiful red deer laid out before me. I choose what little meat I eat very carefully, lucky enough to source it directly from local farmers who are rewilding their farms. But, even as I get closer to the source of my food I am not used to seeing this part of the cycle. It was a challenging experience, and one I am exceptionally grateful to have had.
There are people in the world who are so good at what they do that it becomes an art form. Theresa is one of those people. Watching her was a privilege. Over three days she taught us about how to butcher the deer for food, which parts have practical utilitarian uses, and which parts can be used for craft. We preserved the hide for tanning later, got a glimpse into vegetable tanning the organs, learned how to make bone knives and needles, how to make thread from sinew, how to smoke jerky, and so much more. We also, thanks for Caro’s hard work and skill, ate extraordinary meals cooked over a campfire for three days.




As per the course title no piece of the deer was wasted or binned. Instead we shared the bounty with the more-than-human world around us, offerings to the birds and beasts thrown into the undergrowth and left at the badger set. As we shared this food Theresa drew the connecting line between us all tighter than ever, demonstrating the similarities in our anatomy as she taught. Being confronted so viscerally by those similarities was deeply impactful in a way I am still processing.
I have a notebook full of thoughts, reflections, and responses all scribbled down around the campfire or in my tent at night, among which is an idea I’d never considered with such clarity before…
Throughout ancient human history, anytime a hunter returned home, or foragers brought food back, or a harvest was brought it, communities would come together to use and preserve every part they could. Within every one of these communities were artists and storytellers who were welcome to take from the bounty, to use what had been gathered for our survival and tools and materials for creating art.
The evolution of our species depended on our ability to hunt, to grow food, to build fires, to figure out that an animal’s bladder could be used to carry water and its bones to make tools. But it also depended on our imaginations, our abilities to make art and tell stories. Without this, without bones and sinew and fibres used for creative purposes as well as practical ones, humanity would not have evolved the way we did.


It is a humbling thing as an artist to realise how ancient a tradition I am a part of, and how truly important it has always been.
It is also a timely realisation because I recently found out something incredible:
I have been accepted onto the PhD Program at Falmouth University.
My research proposal is titled the Museum of Mass Extinction and sets forth the beginnings of an idea that will respond to a mass extinction event which has not yet occurred. It has been a long road getting here: the idea was hatched while I was working on The Seagrass Walk; I first shared it with someone during a portfolio review at the Aesthetica Prize; my application to Falmouth began in the depths of winter and my interview happened in early Spring. I am beyond thrilled to have been accepted onto the program and feel utterly ready to get started. My PhD is a practical one, so I will get to spend the next three years learning and creating, experimenting and making. I can think of nothing more exciting.
I have been a professional artist for a little over a decade, and I have been lucky enough to work on some incredible projects. But the fledgling idea currently waiting for my full attention has me so deeply and creatively excited I genuinely don’t have the words.
My weekend in the woods felt like an unofficial start to my PhD. I promised Finn before I let him go that I would try to live the biggest life I could in his honour. I am going to seize the opportunity this PhD represents and make sure I keep that promise. I am going to open this new door wide and step through it. I can’t wait to see where nettle fibres and deer bones will lead me from here.


Dearest Rosie… this is your most inspirational piece yet. An extraordinary invitation to re-evaluate how true full human beings have evolved . I feel the gift of Finn. He blew open your heart and made a whole new envisioning possible. I love this for you. I am humbled by your willingness to be led by your ‘heart-mind’, your intuition. Deep thanks for taking me with you into the woods, into my own re-wilding. You remind me of my / our indigenous roots. I smell the rich dark leaf-mould and my toes curl into the fibrous foundation: I am re-grounded.
Darling Rosie,
What a great Nomadic Rose post that was, you took me there to the woods and felt the power of place. Beautiful. I love the two comments below . Here's to your next steps and new adventures . oxx