Issue 11 has gone to print

We’re delighted to announce that our latest issue has gone to print, and for those of you that have pre-ordered or subscribed, you should receive your copy in around two weeks’ time. Thank you so much for your patience and for helping us to steer a course through these unsettled times. If you haven’t had a chance to pre-order issue 11, you can do so through our store page

Photo by Dan Alford

As many of you know, the past 18 months has been a challenging time for us. But after a remarkable crowdfunding campaign, we were able to send issue 10 to print last autumn – and we have been thoroughly heartened by your support ever since, including renewal of subscriptions and pre-orders for issue 11, which we've just sent to the printers!

Here’s what’s coming up in our latest edition, including healing waters in Iceland's Westfjords, memories of the Eiger, unearthing Old West landscapes in Europe, mudlarking on the Thames, a journey to the source of the River Teifi and a 'Russian spy whale'...

Inventory

William Smith’s geological maps; Steller’s sea cow; the history of lidos; photographing the fluid shapes of starling murmurations; 50 words for snow; the Quiet Parks Project; catching mackerel by handline; ramblers’ soap; natural inks; water monotypes; redesigning ghost wear.

Echoes of the Eiger

Revisiting his father’s pioneering route up the north face of the Eiger – famous for being one of the world’s hardest rock climbs – Mike MacEacheran ruminates on the power of memory and mountains, and why we push ourselves to the ends of the Earth in pursuit of the unknown.

A new era of biodesign

Our material consumption has long been out of control. But could developments in biodesign be part of the solution, bringing us closer to a 1960s sci-fi vision of a sustainable ‘Spaceship Earth’?

Nature & artifice

Ministry of Defence domes, tanks and radar towers may seem incongruous with the wild and craggy landscape of St Kilda, but as Bethany Rigby discovers, a military presence can often have beneficial consequences for conservation in remote areas.

Healing waters in the Westfjords

Henry Fletcher explores Iceland’s oldest geological outcrop – known for its runic sorcerers and herbalists, fathomless fjords and weather-beaten mountains, hot pools and cold water surf scene.

Wild West, Wild East

Trigger fingers at the ready, the sound of a whipcrack ringing in his ears, Nick Hunt seeks traces of the Old West in unlikely corners of Europe.

Technicolour scenes

Stanley Donwood is renowned for his Radiohead album covers and eerie drawings of sunken paths in Holloway (2013), but in his latest collection he turns to brash blocks of colour to evoke the rolling chalkscapes of southern England.

Meditations on the River Teifi

Jack Smylie Wild meanders to the source of Afon Teifi, weaving keen observation with childhood recollection, while sounding a clarion call to love and protect our waterways.

Oh hello, Hvaldimir

A cetacean spy or therapy whale? Joly Braime gets to know this big-hearted beluga who just wants to be friends with humans.

River of time

Mudlarking on the Thames: eroded by the ebb and flow of the tide, the crumbling banks of the estuary reveal clues to our evolving relationship with waste.

The humming towers

Pylons have radically transformed our landscapes for almost a century. Gareth E Rees explores the often-haunting symbolism of the metal monoliths that power our world.

On reflection

As flights were grounded and borders began to close with Britain’s first lockdown, Nicola Moyne found herself turning to the inky depths of the Suffolk coast for fresh perspective and purpose. She recounts how the River Orwell taught her to sail once lockdown eased – and reconnect with the wild.

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Owners of the soil

As part of Edinburgh Art Festival 2021, The Fine Art Society presents Owners of the Soil, examining ties between land, identity and ownership through the early Scottish diaspora’s dual identity of colonised and coloniser

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Images courtesy of The Fine Art Society

Will Maclean’s collection of work is based on the narratives of six native Gaelic speakers who were born in the late 19th and early 20th centuries on the shores of Loch Broom in the village Polbain, Coigach, Ross-shire.

They were from three large families of Macleans, MacLeods, and Campbells. It was accepted that they would have to leave their homes to find a living away from the Highlands either to travel south in the UK or overseas. Mary Ross and Alexander Campbell settled in New Zealand, Rhoda Maclean in Australia, Alexander Maclean and Kenneth Maclean in North America and Murdo Macleod in South Africa.

Scottish historian John Smith, commenting on the Education Act (Scotland) 1872 stated, “Emigration, whether voluntary or enforced was strongly encouraged by education and the losses caused in this way very often of the youngest and the best were irreplaceable and are nowadays simply incalculable.”

Duncan Mackenzie, a Crofter of Coigach, is quoted in the 1883 Napier Commission, a public inquiry into the condition of crofters in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland: “Now I am an old man and I have no family - they have taken wings and flown away, they were not of such a kind as would remain in this place”.

Alongside Maclean’s collection are Shaun Fraser’s works in glass, bronze, ink and print that focus on Nova Scotia, an area dominated by Scottish settlements with place names that displaced First Nation Mi’kmaq titles. Incorporating peat and organic matter, Fraser’s work holds an innate link to the locality upon which it draws.

You can view Owners of the Soil until 28 August 2021 at the Fine Art Gallery, 6 Dundas Street, Edinburgh EH3 6HZ. You can also view the exhibition online.

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Trail teas

From spruce needles to haw berries - pluck yourself a few ingredients from the hedgerow for your next cup of tea in the great outdoors

Spruce needles
Resinous, refreshing and rich in vitamin C – spruce needle tea is the perfect pick-me-up after a long hike. Pick the young needles (they taste sweeter) at the tips of the branches and infuse in hot, not boiling, water. Do not confuse with yew needles – they are toxic.

Hawthorn berries
Hawthorn is Britain’s most abundant hedgerow tree, so you’ll not be short of berries for an autumnal brew. They look like mini red apples, and require soaking for 12 hours to soften them before infusing, but all worth it for a tart and tangy tea that’s high in antioxidants.



Gorse flowers
The thorny gorse bush flowers at any time of year and is commonly found on clifftops and heathland. Its vivid yellow flowers have a mild coconut and almond flavour – perfect for a calming cup of tea before a night under canvas. Bruise the petals slightly before steeping.

Birch twig
Easily identified by its peeling white bark, the silver birch can be found in woods all over Britain. Birch twigs and buds have diuretic properties, so are good for flushing out toxins. Make sure the water isn’t boiling, as that will evaporate the wintergreen flavour.

Always take a reputable wild food guidebook with you when foraging – if you’re not sure, don’t pick it.

This originally featured in issue 10 of Ernest Journal. Illustrations by Aidan Meighan.

Pure shores

Vivienne Rickman-Poole reflects on the intimidation, awkwardness, then utter joy she feels cold-water swimming in the mountain pools of Snowdonia

Images by Vivienne Rickman-Poole

I am constantly, helplessly drawn towards Snowdonia’s mountain pools. I find myself ever searching for the huge expanse of nothingness below the surface. Nothing quite compares to that ultimate abyss of a deep, sometimes dark, mountain lake, where there is absolutely nothing below you. That is what I am searching for in every single swim: the absolute reward for getting in. It's not always there – not all lakes are deep and crystal clear – but when it is, that's the moment of zen, when I can swim and swim, my whole body in tune, my front crawl arms, legs, hips and breathing are perfect and my mind is empty. It is a present feeling, which I think enables me to reflect more; I always spend a few moments recording or writing after every swim.

I enjoy the relationships I form with the water. One lake close to my home – Llyn Dwythwch – has been a source of love and hate for many years. Nestled in a particularly boggy cwm, it’s a spot of solitude and wet feet, of isolation and elation. I have procrastinated on its banks many times; I’ve sat on its lake bed during a mid-winter howling wind and let the cobwebs drift from my hair; I’ve floated face down and stared in complete awe at the sheer falling darkness below me. It’s this feeling of intimidation, this awkwardness and eventually utter joy from the water that constantly feeds my need to explore the mountain lakes.

Sometimes I just have an overwhelming need to feel submerged. To feel that depth, that pressure across your skin. It’s a little like receiving a hug, enveloped in a freshness that only a mountain lake can provide. I swim all year round and look forward to feeling the changing seasons on my skin, especially as winter comes and the temperatures drop; not only does the clarity of water become incredible but the somehow it feels purer.

Getting into freezing water in the dark months of winter takes some getting used to. I spent months acclimatising many years ago and have developed little rituals to help me get in with seamless ease. I like to get certain parts of my body used to the chilliness first – I splash my arms, chin, my neck, back of the neck and then I am straight in. It’s this moment, the split-second of being submerged, that feels sublime. I always feel truly alive after a swim but that feeling intensifies in winter as the water gets colder. It’s quite hard to describe – winter swims are shorter but the ‘alive’ feeling is greater and lasts longer.

I guess I am always hoping to feel an ‘afterglow’ – something that new swimmers often feel, and which comes from dipping in cold water. When you get out, usually when you’re getting changed, a flood of warmth sweeps across your body followed by slow building cold, a cold that gets inside your bones, to your very core. It’s a nice feeling, it’s intense, something you come to crave.

The experiences I have in the mountains impact my life in many different ways. On a daily level it can be both blissfully positive and a little bit negative. I mean, how can you focus on a day of work when you have walked halfway up Snowdon in first light to be the only person standing in a swimsuit on the edge of a frozen mountain lake, its mirror perfect surface reflecting the blue skies and snow-capped peaks surrounding you? Breaking the surface for an icy dip induces a knowing smile and rush of endorphins that lasts all day. I want to shout about how wonderful it was.

I have found that my journey into lone swimming has had the greatest impact on my life. Travelling into the mountains alone and making choices that are all mine, decisions only I can make – be it navigational, about the weather, about what I consider safe and listening to my own body in and out the water – these have been the things that have shaped me in other areas. I am stronger and happy to make decisions that are all mine and live by my convictions.

Follow Vivienne on Instagram @viviennerickman and join her on one of her creative mountain swim days; viviennerickmanpoole.co.uk/guidedswimming.

This article originally featured in issue 8 of Ernest Journal.

Swimming in cold water can be dangerous, do not swim if you're not acclimatised to cold conditions.

Ocean tapestries

Embodying art and activism, textile artist Vanessa Barragão uses salvaged yarns and traditional craft techniques, such as latch hook, macrame and crochet, to create her ocean floor motifs that address the devastating effects of the textile industry on our coral reefs. We spoke to Vanessa about her extraordinary work…

Coral Garden, by Vanessa Baragao

Vanessa, how did you come up with the idea for your ocean floor textile art?

It was something very organic. I grew up at the seaside, so the ocean has been a constant in my life. When I was young my parents used to take me out to see coral reefs. They were the most impressive thing I’d ever seen, and that's something that has stayed with me to this day.

As I got older I learned what was happening to the coral reefs – their bleaching and death – so I decided to raise awareness and appeal to people to be more conscious about what's happening in the water; to see what they can change in their daily routines to improve the health of our oceans and the planet.

How would you describe yourself as an artist?

Because of the theme of my work, I could class myself as an artivist (artist + activist), but more specifically in my case, an artisan + activist! I try to keep my work as eco-conscious as possible – I'm very careful with the sustainability of my process and the materials I use. I’m always looking for new ways to collect waste from the textile industry, and thinking about how can I apply new recycled materials to my work.

Vanessa uses salvaged yarns and recycled materials to create sculptural carpets and tapestry

What have been the highlights of your crafting journey so far?

Displaying a piece at Heathrow Airport made me feel very proud! It's a huge space and a lot of people go through it every day. It was a big moment.

Also, the Coral Garden I created at the 2019 Domotex in Hannover was a big highlight of my career. The installation was very well received – everyone seemed to love it.

Are there any other projects you're working on that you'd like to tell us about?

Yes! The project I'm working on right now is really something new for me as it’s meant to be installed outdoors. I can’t tell you much yet but it will be a large scale installation, unveiled in July. I'm so looking forward to sharing it with everyone.

Where you turn for inspiration, particularly when you're in a creative lull?

I travel! It doesn't need to be anywhere far. I also try to be more in contact with nature. When I escape the studio and my daily routine, I usually return with new ideas and more creativity to work on my projects.

What have you learned from this extraordinary past 18 months? And how do you hope things will move forward from the pandemic?

I'm really hoping that this whole situation clears up so that we can return to our 'normal' lives again but right now, I'm not sure what will happen in the future. Unfortunately, a few events where I was supposed to display my work were cancelled, but I kept working in my studio and tried to figure out new ways to display my creations. It’s important for artists to improve the ways we display our work, and to keep working and stay motivated.

Inspired by her grandmother’s craft skills, Vanessa learned to sew as a child, making clothes for her dolls from scrap fabrics

Tell us about your studio - how does it reflect you?

I try to keep things I really like and enjoy here at the studio - sea shells, plants and upcycled furniture. I keep the studio as clean as possible and with a pleasant scent. I love essential oils - I believe they boost my creativity.

I have lots of plants here. Taking care of them relaxes me, which is is good after a day of work. One thing I really enjoy is finding unwanted furniture (and other objects) left by trash bins. Most finds end up here at the studio and I try to bring them back to life as best as I can.

What's on your bedside table?

I’ve just moved into a new home and I haven't had the time to put everything in place yet, but so far I have a wooden mushroom that diffuses essential oils, which helps me relax as well as boost my creativity. I also have a few energy stones that I’ve been collecting over the years.

Find out more about Vanessa’s work at vanessabarragao.com and on Instagram @vanessabarragao_work