Post by Admin on Feb 14, 2024 14:08:18 GMT
Dark Ocean – a call for submissions for Dark Mountain: Issue 26
Submissions are now open for Dark Mountain's 26th issue, a special issue that dives deep into the seven seas of the world and explores all dimensions of the salty biome, from microscopic plankton to the vast oceanic currents.
dark-mountain.net/dark-ocean-a-call-for-submissions-for-dark-mountain-issue-26/
There are nine of us below deck, drawing up a map on a large piece of brown parcel paper. We are a crew of writers and artists on a boat called Merlin, anchored in a sea loch, on a voyage through the Outer Hebrides to explore the heart and imagination of the sea.
On one half of the map, we list what we love about the sea and on the other the facts about what is happening to it and all its creatures. There is a ring of chalk circles in the centre, marked self, kin, dreaming, that sits as an interface between them. We pick up coloured crayons and cover the paper at each end of the table with words. Then change places.
awe, wonder, metaphor, strength, transformation, space, presence, breath, immersion, dive, swim, nourishment, selkie, liminal, wild, life, horizon, salt, rhythm, sound, movement, connection, mystery, regeneration, home
acidification, microplastics, polar ice melt, deep sea mining, bottom trawling, dredging, naval warfare, sonic pollution, salmon farming, shark finning, oil spills, coral reef bleaching, migration drownings, tourism, cruise ships, container ships, culling, warming, SeaWorld, dead zones
Outside, the waves rock the basalt shore. The seals are singing as night falls. They sing to themselves, to us, to the soul of the world.
ATLANTIC Our Dark Ocean voyage made its way from Stornaway to Mallaig, hauling the mainsail in rain and wind and shine, dolphins leaping beside us, shearwaters flying past. We were exploring what our culture would be like if we bore the consequences of this devouring civilisation in mind. The vast and mysterious spaces of the sea have inspired storytellers throughout time, but what kind of regenerative work could be created now when the oceans of the world are so imperilled? What is our function as writer, artist, filmmaker; as witness, kin-maker, dreamer?
Submissions are now open for Dark Mountain's 26th issue, a special issue that dives deep into the seven seas of the world and explores all dimensions of the salty biome, from microscopic plankton to the vast oceanic currents.
dark-mountain.net/dark-ocean-a-call-for-submissions-for-dark-mountain-issue-26/
There are nine of us below deck, drawing up a map on a large piece of brown parcel paper. We are a crew of writers and artists on a boat called Merlin, anchored in a sea loch, on a voyage through the Outer Hebrides to explore the heart and imagination of the sea.
On one half of the map, we list what we love about the sea and on the other the facts about what is happening to it and all its creatures. There is a ring of chalk circles in the centre, marked self, kin, dreaming, that sits as an interface between them. We pick up coloured crayons and cover the paper at each end of the table with words. Then change places.
awe, wonder, metaphor, strength, transformation, space, presence, breath, immersion, dive, swim, nourishment, selkie, liminal, wild, life, horizon, salt, rhythm, sound, movement, connection, mystery, regeneration, home
acidification, microplastics, polar ice melt, deep sea mining, bottom trawling, dredging, naval warfare, sonic pollution, salmon farming, shark finning, oil spills, coral reef bleaching, migration drownings, tourism, cruise ships, container ships, culling, warming, SeaWorld, dead zones
Outside, the waves rock the basalt shore. The seals are singing as night falls. They sing to themselves, to us, to the soul of the world.
ATLANTIC Our Dark Ocean voyage made its way from Stornaway to Mallaig, hauling the mainsail in rain and wind and shine, dolphins leaping beside us, shearwaters flying past. We were exploring what our culture would be like if we bore the consequences of this devouring civilisation in mind. The vast and mysterious spaces of the sea have inspired storytellers throughout time, but what kind of regenerative work could be created now when the oceans of the world are so imperilled? What is our function as writer, artist, filmmaker; as witness, kin-maker, dreamer?