Reflections on 2024 Caselberg Trust Margaret Egan Cities of Literature Writers Residency

From the moment I arrived in Ōtepoti Dunedin to begin my residency at the Caselberg House, I was made to feel at home.

My friend Liz picked me up and drove me out to the Peninsula where we were greeted by Mark, a neighbour and Caselberg Trustee, and where we discovered a fresh loaf of home-made bread and local jam provided by Rob, another Trustee, on the kitchen table. We made tea and sat in the garden and drank in the view of the harbour framed by native trees. It was in the same place, also over a cup of tea, that I’d get to know Lesley and Janet, also Caselberg Trustees who did so much to make me feel welcome.

Having recently completed a book-length collection of hybrid prose poetry, I applied for the residency to begin a new project. My starting points included weather and climate, ecological grief and family ghosts. As the residency progressed I became interested in how my project might pay homage to and advocate for air; the atmosphere of Earth which is so vital, yet often thought of as next to nothing, or empty space. I thought about air both as it’s been personified by scientists and poets (including the Japanese surrealist Shuzo Takeguchi, who described air as ‘an exquisite boneless princess’), and as an increasingly appropriated ‘sphere’ where the residues of our fossil-fuelled lifestyles accumulate and shape our weather and possible futures.

Because it’s hard to live only on air, I also worked on a side project, an alphabet book of short pieces about food. I found that using alphabetical prompts to write a poem every day helped to alleviate the anxiety of the early stages of a project when you’re not yet writing as much as you’d like. The book I’d recently finished was quite formally constrained, so the chance to be more playful and experiment with different voices and approaches also helped me to loosen up a bit.

This precious six weeks was a time to recharge, to reflect, read and experiment, to find inspiration in the beautiful surroundings of the Otago Peninsula and Dunedin, and the collection of art and writing in the Caselberg House. The residency comes with a bicycle, and the long southern evenings were an opportunity to explore the Peninsula and get to know its inlets and ocean beaches. I’m also grateful to the invitations I received to attend readings, dinners, and book launches, to explore the Hocken library, and take part in other activations and events.

The gift of a time and space dedicated to writing was a rare opportunity to explore what kind of creative process and rhythm is possible when writing doesn’t have to be scheduled around other work, and I feel confident that this deep breath of Peninsula air will continue to sustain me past the end of the actual residency.

The residency made me think a lot about the value of community, whether local, as in the case of the Caselberg Trust, who extend their own uniquely creative community to visitors, or global, as in the City of Literature programme or the reading I attended of poetry by Palestinian poets in support of the people of Gaza. It also made me think about how much the economy of writing depends on gifts of time, place and attention, on reciprocity and aroha. The hospitality, thoughtful generosity, and willingness to share their lives and their stories from those involved with the residency made a deep impression on me and was in itself a source of inspiration. It’s a rare thing as a writer to feel so valued and encouraged, and the new and strengthened connections made during the residency are one of its many benefits that I hope will be ongoing.

I extend my heartfelt appreciation and thanks to the Caselberg Trustees, to Nicky and Anne from the Dunedin City of Literature programme, to the writers and artists of Ōtepoti/Dunedin, and to the spirit of Margaret Egan whose bequest makes the residency possible, for this wonderfully enriching and memorable experience.

Ngā mihi nui

Alison Glenny - January 2025