Recently I have been thinking a lot about Hireath. A Welsh word that has no direct English translation, a feeling of homesickness mixed with sadness, a mixture of longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness or an earnest desire for the past.
I guess the closest way to describe it is that I have been suffering with nostalgia. Is this a thing? It certainly feels present and heavy and I have been trying to work out what exactly I am missing and why I am missing it currently. The best way I have found is to sit with the feeling and try to pinpoint what I am nostalgic for. It seems to be that I am feeling Hiraeth for the time growing up in a little rural village in south Norfolk in the 70s/80s, in particularly my sense of freedom, closeness to nature and sense of creativity, anything felt possible but also the world around me was very small. I was in a bubble where school and home formed a small part and the majority of my time I was was out exploring the fields, carrs, marshes, lanes, discovering puffballs, hollow trees, blackberries, tadpoles, owlets, nests, cuckoo spit, willow trees and so much more.
The more I think of what it is I am missing, the more I realise it is the slow pace and time in nature to notice all the tiny worlds that magically exist beneath the crazy hubbub that we have turned human existence into. This is where my creativity springs from, I was grown in the marsh and my creative drive comes from a place of wonder and exploration of the natural world. Central to this is my need to work with a variety of materials with the constant theme of landscape and nature being the thing that holds my creative vision together.
So why does this even matter?! What I am noticing more and more through my work on the Raveningham and Bayfield Sculpture Trails, Woodland Lumiere and running creative workshops is that there is an increasing need for the very things that I am feeling nostalgia for. I wonder whether others are feeling this yearning too? By creating artworks and trails that wander through semi-wild gardens we are creating spaces and a pocket of time that give permission to slow down, amble, notice, listen, feel the sun or the wind and rain. I am noticing that as people arrive at the trails or workshops they are often hurrying, keeping to a schedule and it only takes an hour or two for those same people to change to a calmer more present state of being.
We are aware of so much happening around the world that it can feel overwhelming. This for me is where creativity: art, craft, making, becomes crucial. It is what helps to ground me and bring me back to centre. It is something that I am passionate about sharing and I have been thinking about ways to do this beyond the Sculpture Trails and workshops at Raveningham. We have become consumers but are creatures that are designed to create and innovate, image taking away the necessity for the Bower Bird to create their incredible nests, if Beavers didn’t need to build dams, Woodpeckers no longer needed to build their nests in tree trunks but could order one ready made online, what on earth would they do with themselves? Is a Woodpecker still a Woodpecker if it doesn’t peck wood!!!
My answers to my own conundrum are to turn to making. The autumn always feels especially creative to me as the busyness of the summer turns to cosy studio time. I am working on the following projects in no particular order:
Finishing and writing the book of the ‘1000 Vessel Project – Exploring the power of creativity through adversity’.
Creating a series of zines called Creative Spark which will share some of my favourite approaches to stitch, linoprint, drawing, painting, willow lantern making. The first in the series is a Stitch project which focuses on creating stitched pages for a fabric book, experimenting with embroidery stitches, drawing and colour.
Drawing 12 studies of hedgerow favourites for a calendar of ceramic vessels: Blackthorn, Willow, Winter Jasmine, Salvia, Passionflower, Periwinkle, Spindleberry, Dog Rose, Red Campion, Wild Violet, Cherry and Primrose.
Wishing you all a creative Autumn and if you are interested in seeing my creative progress or joining a workshop at Raveningham then sign up to my mailing list or follow me on instagram @sarahcannellartist
Hiraeth: The wooden path onto the marsh reminds me of my childhood in all the best ways! It is remote and abandoned but for feels full of magic, totally undisturbed apart from the sounds of the reeds, marsh cattle, geese, swans, marsh harriers.
Beccles Marsh Trail – autumn 2026
Sarah so well written and so mindful – for me too I feel the schedule followed by the creative calm that descends in a workshop that I have had the pleasure to be part of for sometime. My creativeness (not perfect in any way – as it shouldn’t be) fills me with a passion to explore and investigate areas of design, that I felt was beyond me and for that I thank you and the others that I have the pleasure to sit alongside on a Monday evening… Thank you
Thanks Sue, the Monday evening sessions have a lovely vibe don’t they 🙂 Looking forward to opening the kiln with all the treasures that were glazed last night and creating more together. Sarah x
What a glorious read; thank you for putting my thoughts into words
Thanks for your comment, much appreciated 🙂
Thank you, Sarah. Reading this is especially timely for me as I’m currently walking the Camino from Porto to Santiago de Compostella, where the wild and rugged scenery and the strong scent of seaweed reminds me so much of my own idyllic childhood spent by the Atlantic shore in Ireland. So, I suppose I’m feeling Hireath in a way, too! Or Cianalas, the Irish/Gaelic equivalent.
Rather like you, school and home were just one part of my life, the rest taken up with chores on the farm and many jaunts to the nearby strands. Yes, a life of innocence in many ways but, living so close to nature and having the freedom to roam unsupervised also instilled a sense of independence and oneness not just with nature but with the world in general.
What I’ve now discovered is that because it involves nothing other than putting one foot in front of the other and keeping your eyes and ears open, walking the Camino is probably the closest I’ve come to rediscovering that childhood feeling. Buen Camino…wherever it takes you!
Thanks for sharing the Irish/Gaelic world – Cianalas, Hireath, Nostalgia – I agree, a feral childhood out in nature definitely instills independence and a groundedness. I think time spent walking in wild places is something that could really help a lot of people of all ages, a tonic for the modern world! Enjoy your trip 🙂 I’d love to walk the Camino, good time of year to do it. I shall be walking in the Suffolk marshes today, autumnal, cold and damp but beautiful in it’s own way.