What is an identity? How do we identify ourselves?

Ruth HartleyCreativity, Family, Human rights, Identity, Photography, Poetry, Refugee2 Comments

How do we identify ourselves? What is identity? What criteria do any of us use to identify ourselves? Is it appearance? Tribe? Work? Status? Religion? Why do we need an identity? What do we use our identity for? To belong somewhere? To exclude another or many others? What identity do we think we have in someone else’s eyes? We are […]

Flying backwards to yesterday and arriving in tomorrow’s world

Ruth HartleyBooks by Ruth Hartley, Creativity, Family, The Shaping of Water, Visual Arts, ZambiaLeave a Comment

Flying backwards to yesterday     Was I flying backwards into a nostalgic and unreal fantasy about a past life? Even now Zambia feels like home to me, the place closest to my heart where I feel most deeply rooted. I lived in Zambia for 22 years and my dream had always been to have a plot of land, build […]

Issam Kourbaj, artist and mentor – “Dark Water, Burning World”

Ruth HartleyArt Process, Creativity, Displacement, Family, Human rights, Migration, Refugee, Visual Arts, War1 Comment

Wonderful good fortune Sometimes you know that you have been really lucky! I was when I met Issam Kourbaj, a Syrian artist in Cambridge. I can’t remember who told me about Issam’s workshops but I went along to one without a clue about what to expect. Possibly I heard about Issam from someone at Cambridge Artworks where I had a […]

Votes for women, the working classes, men, and the dangers of a single story

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Feminism, Human rights, Politics, Race, Slavery, Suffrage2 Comments

Women, the vote, and the stories told about it 100 years later On March 8th I will join friends to celebrate International Women’s Day. It is always fun. Its great to be celebrating a centenary since British women got the vote. The vote was only for women then, who, like me now, had property – but hold on! 100 years […]

Mythological me – images from a memoir of childhood

Ruth HartleyColonialism, Family, Imagination, Memoir, Race, Southern Africa6 Comments

For a child, facts are fantastical and fantasy, factual Somewhere in my infancy, there is a thick green privet hedge, clipped and trimmed to right-angled perfection. It encloses a perfectly square empty space brimful of desolation. It contains no house, no people live there and it is nameless. Its eternal position is located somewhere inside the fortnight when my mythical […]