The Palace of Humming Trees

Excited to announce a collaborative exhibition with artist Jack O’Flynn and curator Katie O’Grady, happening until 8th August at French Street Studios in Glasgow.

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The Palace of Humming Trees is a collaborative project between artist Jack O’Flynn, writer Maria Sledmere and curator Katie O’Grady which took place from April to August 2021. This collaboration will be showcased in an exhibition at French Street Studios, Glasgow, featuring new works from O’Flynn and Sledmere which travel through poetry, sculptural entities and dreams of impossible possibilities.

This project was formed in a concert – along mixtapes, Tarot readings, zoom calls and shared research. We present it here as multiple sensual journeys; to an exhibition of hyper-foxes and tenderly crumbling foliage, through a publication of lichenous illusions and rummaging thought and in a selection of music and voices which trailed our imaginings. 

Intertwining themes of ecological thought, world building and re-enchantment we sought to un-ravel the question: how can we act and think in this present moment to ensure positive change to our relationship with the world around us? The action and thinking which we wandered became located in small and monumental formats – enacted in the everyday and in how we create and build the future. We were enveloped by uncertain certainty, whether apparent through non-human thought, the possibilities of visual art and poetry or the endorsement of magic. Living in a world brimming with unease by climate crisis and extreme inequality – brought upon by extractive capital, far-right strategies and carceral logics – we wished to communicate a different model of awareness that could refuse these structures and re-imagine being a Being. 

Exploring this sentiment O’Flynn and Sledmere have created a body of work that opens a portal to a forest of vibrating thought. One of galloping states, lockdown meanderings and a lyrical suffusion through language and art that prompts how we can think and imagine differently. 

Please enjoy this digital showcase of The Palace of Huming Trees and, if you can, come to visit its physical iteration at French Street Studios, 103 – 109 French Street, Glasgow. Open July 30th to August 8th 11 AM to 5 PM (closed Monday and Tuesday) with a preview on July 29th 6 PM – 9 PM. Book to attend exhibition via Eventbrite here and to attend preview here.

More info at the exhibition website.

The exhibition also comes with a book of poetry, illustration and essaying, The Palace of Humming Trees.

Available to order for £12.99 – Contact details for ordering available on the website above.

Pop Matters free write: Episode 8

A sample of unedited free writing composed during a two hour Pop Matters workshop themed around Lorde, named ‘Homemade Dynamite, in May 2020.

PHASE ONE

There are types of explosion I could not accord to the usual violet. 

I could not accord to the explosion the usual violet. 

The usual violet, a secret violet. Lots of violets collect

on the edge of a screen share, meadowbank.

Collect document sensitivity, mute self. 

Mute self. I do it myself, say I am faithful as Marianne 

in the story I was the moment before and the tree is a jpeg

and if the tree is only a jpeg. The alchemical forestry of lorde and rain 

and I wish I could get pissed with you forever in the perfect place, in the perfect universe

an alchemy life

aye ayeyayayeyeyeyayaeyaeyyaeya

it’s a type of kissing, it’s… perfect place? yeah I think I was googling to find the lots of violets. say we do this after the party, say we do this regardless, perfect place 

only that I Wanted to see your face

only that I wanted the download to happen and sick of seeing myself in speech

sick of seeing myself in speech

I wanted everyone

the less sensitive arena of eden

first sprawl is lissom and I blow it up

celadon tenderness

turn up crushable, she fancy

                 the body’s soft pulp is 

turn into colour how green your eyes are

kissingly blue as the skies are 

      doubtful hillsides 

I slide into 

not this

     find + replace a call, that’s all

Blown kinds of killable power, I needed something, almost a sort of off-blue to perfect the moment in which I fall for another green-eyed loveliness and supernatural the first song was only as coasting my eyes 

it is a coagulate love

it is clots 

of the party feels over

sharing experience of shingles in bittersweetness

fire’s pale season is a sleeplessness say I did not read the full bio

I swear we had not read 

the stress of white lines in the ice

whoever loves the beach

treat self, treat self

if the beach refuses to light, the soft 

never trust of the sea

is thankful, like if there is ice in the sky this evening

our love is intrinsic 

like dust

teething erasure

I felt like there were emotional haircuts to excerpt our truth from 

soundless mindlessnessssssssssss

if soft 

then lost etherea I see you

wherever I go is another 

greennness 

purest shoreless saints that we are

honey I’m honey I’m 

the best merch

it’s cute that you still haven’t seen what I mean by the fringe of spirals

I want to tressel  the air in a grass

is 

in grass is 

every congratulation in a frame is 

treatable with smote 

smote lotion; if you just cling to the lines

admitting to you, yeah, probably I compose by the music, bon iver or something

veins of my city

some of us teenage witchery the famous one 

moment left I felt like quarantine was 

in a separate heartland in a nettle mantle

a mantle of nettles

getting the train to wherever you want to be, queenless assertion say

anything liable of coins

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I want to thrash around nude on the tennis with you

court a swan

you’re not the problem, I told you

I want to roll naked in the grass etc

and you’re so like, lilac 

I hadn’t thought about it tilll now 

it’s all I wanna see, see

carnage without care, yea

is it happiness active now ///// illuminate the liable for hours and hours, how beautiful is the fuck 

this originary technicity of sleep

is it alchemical to wear these star-shaped glasses

this close to a sunset 

wild, fluorescent, less of us listicle 

be this dreamlessness

with oil with oil 

neuro as ornament

I’ll be your neuro-ornament

if I’m not the problem, I’m the problem

is there a where or why you’d rather be

what colour are lorde’s eyes? my favourite painting is the one where

general wellbeing is almost 

shrieking 

cut of the shriek

of the shark

is hours I like to say 

tangential and the only ones this planetary is Cassius 

say anything to me like salt on the cosmic, the air of all other 

directors 

working from home the negative is only 

correct playlist

agate, tinsel, less Cassius 

eat city

yes/no/go slower/faster/more/clear all

54321

ghostlessness is the only soft feeling for every cartoon motion 

an orbital affair 

If only the interruption was intense as the smell of the garlic that first spring I was waking up and I felt myself. And it was this season of falling for you stupidly in lust and I think the human body is so easily susceptible to breathing and to the love that is almost cut of spice and if I had that same youth and if I had eaten my way through the wormholes only it would be the glow light peach upon the side of your face, some sort of discovery, someone now and then in the limelight, someone’s exercise, peach to spice to glory, I felt without glory I felt without the cute scenes of my englishness which was hardly even mine, which was hardly the pringle lace the lace of pringle kissing me by the sea, always by the sea and sea and sea I want to gauge the moment’s turf

I think the human body is as the smell of the garlic mind this time in life in and i liked when they were to the love that is almost without glory I felt without the sea and sea I want to cut of spice and if I side of your face, some sort of discovery, someone now and then not being able to know your yes naked into the sea yes we run straight into the sea was in us as it was hardly the pringle lace the lace the glow light peach upon the gauge the momentum if it’s like and all my blistering well and or sober as I felt I If only the interruption was intense my life I wish it was that first spring I was waking it was this season of falling not eating if it’s like when describing how it felt to strip ours not just this or us youth yes the sea-grey blue in I felt nothing but original sensation could be nailed red to the had that same youth and if in the limelight, someone’s exercise, peach to spice to glory, I felt was hardly even mine, which was for you stupidly in lust and so easily susceptible to breathing and the wormholes only it would be as you take off your clothes of pringle kissing me by the up and I felt myself. I felt myself. And I had eaten my way through cute scenes of my englishness which sea, always by the sea and participatory after eight is lush is feeling glean a sort of release it was in me as it feeling and sea-grey blue in the. Blue in the

wormholes I felt so easily

susceptible to englishness

in me the feeling release

sea-grey in a glean of blue

after cute scenes of myself

I felt I had eaten all peaches

to be so blister

philip glass for the charlatans

I felt wireless