The Oken Stone Podcast

This is a poem from 2002. It was a very colurful year amongst many such years. Hindsight - does that mean looking at the deer's tail? The monster in question here is my libido I supose, or the hidden clockwork mechanism that drives one. Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared. This is a public episode. If you'd like to disc...

Kroovan Wings is a homage to trees. In Gaelic craobh (pronounced kroov) means 'tree'. It is a celebration of two magnificent trees, an Ash and a Sycamore, that stand at the gateway to the Galloway Forest Park and at a meeting point on the Southern Upland Way below Culmark Hill. Both trees produce seeds that have wings  to fly out across the landscape. This is part of a show that I am mak...

This is a new piece of work that I am developing with Nomoss, a dance and music collaboration based in Edinburgh. In this instance the sound is some reworked recordings that I made whilst on holiday in East Wittering some while back. The text was originally written for presentation in The Arches in Glasgow in 2008. It is a narrative given from the point of view of a drawing, a very particular draw...

This is a short story about getting lost in the dark. Part of the problem is that you can only get lost if you knew where you were in the first place, and the problem with darkness is knowing whether or not you have your eyes open. This story may be metaphorical, in which case it is an abstract moment, an existential crisis. Or it may be true, which could make it into a variety of horror story. Bu...

.....and even as the eagle soared above the rocky slopes, the tortoise encaged in its talons, the petals encaged in the jaws of the reptile, so a young naturalist ran forwards - last of his kind, taxidermy on his mind.............. The stricken eagle fell amongst a drift of feathers and petals, releasing the scaled misile from its grasp and joining all four together in death upon the shoulder of t...

However, a shadow moved swiftly, thrown down onto the land by a majestic golden eagle, last of its kind on the mountain. Even as the beak of the tortoise closed upon the exquisite blooms, the eagle stooped........ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ https://oceanallover.bandcamp.com/album/orographic Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is...

On the lower slopes a tortoise had begun its ascent. Armoured carapace, last of its kind. Hungry and smelling petals on the air...... Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit theokenstone.substack.com/subscribe

Upon the Mountainside there is a flower, a most beautiful flower, last of its kind. It is opening its petals to the sky, an invitation and a celebration.......... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Go to: https://oceanallover.bandcamp.com/album/orographic and listen to the whole album. Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared. This is a...

In which you discover a door in your own foot, and enter through it. Out I’ll take a story from you, hillside; I’ll make something from you, something deep like a door in your foot, a way in. There will be singing, voices raised and the gravity of mysteries that erupt as small flowers around your shoulders. We will go up with our eyes over and over again until we live inside the land in our minds....

You continue to ascend, becoming less and less of yourself and more and more mountainous............ Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit theokenstone.substack.com/subscribe

In which the mountain appears before you in many guises. All is what it seems it is not. You are lost until................... Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit theokenstone.substack.com/subscribe

You begin to climb the mountain. Perspectives slide. You find a door.......... Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit theokenstone.substack.com/subscribe

Here you are met by your guide. They will lead you on your journey into the mountain. You must trust them, they must trust you. Hold hands and go with them......... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sound on this track was made by me using recordings taken in the fields, ponds and hills around where I live. Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be share...

This is a short introduction to a series of episodes that bring you a story about mountains. Companion (On the Way) On your mountain there are trails with little indication of where they may lead, and even less of who made them. The thorns and open meadows at your feet lead the walker’s eye but confound their souls with perspective shifts and obscured vistas. Once embarked upon this journey I will...

This is an introduction to the Oken Stone Podcast, what the name means and what to expect from future episodes. I am an artist making work in a number of different disciplines, with philosophy firmly at the core of them all. Through this podcast I will share thoughts and ideas, some of them factual and many of them abstract.  Support the show Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of genero...

This is a short poem that I wrote whilst building a large fire-sculpture for the Wintertide Festival in Hertlepool in November 2023. We were staying in an Inn of the same name on the Headlands near to the sight of the gun battery and the location of a temporary lighthouse that stood on the moors from 1915 and until a new one was built in 1927. I had caught a flu bug the day before and was in a sem...