For almost six weeks I’ve been working with a marvellous group of people In The Museum Vaults at Ludlow Museum Resources Centre. Each week a curator locks us into a different vault, where we make notes, take photos, and then I help along the writing, applying coffee and chocolate biscuits as you do.
We – and Ludlow Museum Resources Centre – hope this will become an exhibition of creative writing and artefacts next year.
Meantime, here’s a taster of some of the exciting new writing that’s emerging. And some photographs, that I took, and that don’t match. But hopefully you’ll get the idea.
was it a terrified marmoset or a rock python a giant toad – a bufo marinus – mid-croak or an eagle-headed griffin… that made you stare? Miriam
You, golden eyed, red burnished like sun on rusty tin, velvet ears pricked. Magnificent you are. Thin you are. Polly
It was such a plain dress; no frills or flounces, bows or lace, silk or taffeta. Somehow I could just picture you wearing it, your tall frame filling it as you walked down the summer lanes. Polly
Ladies, ladies, how fortunate you are! Goddesses bathing in a sylvan landscape, Your ample figures quite acceptable. Today you would be hurried from the scene, And sternly offered diet sheets. Catherine
Who named these things? Wulfenite, marcosite, topaz and tourmaline, olivine, garnet and aquamarine? Was there a Miss or Mr Hach who named the Hatchbetine or a mad professor who named Ogygiocarella debuchi from the Ordovician sea of Llandeilo, where sheep now graze? Polly
In the First World War a million uniforms died Gordon
I visited an archive full of clothes hung high to the ceiling in double rows and there were boxes and boxes of caps, shawls and scarves, christening robes, aprons, bonnets and shoes. A red cross uniform from the First World War, a single Tudor sandal, ice-skates and stoles. Each item had a number and I relished the democracy of it all. Lizzie
During making iron, dross is skimmed off the molten metal, in order to pour good metal into moulds.
But what do we do with the quirky dross of un-fileable museum items Hide them behind the door. Gordon