Category: Our Transcapes

  • The launch and reception of Our Transcapes

    The launch and reception of Our Transcapes

    After 18 months of development, Our Transcapes fully launched last week – and judging from the anonymous feedback, it’s achieved all that we at Queer Natures hoped it would.

    Our project goals

    I developed Our Transcapes to achieve three therapeutic goals for trans* folks: community building (reducing feelings of isolation in our identities); connecting with nature (remembering our animality and beingness that exist beyond our gender identities); increasing feelings of belonging and naturalness through an exploration of trans* prehistory.

    On Saturday 27 September 2025, we put these goals to the test. Taking to Ecclesall Woods, a large managed site of Ancient South Yorkshire forest, 13 participants and my team gently wandered through the trees for two hours, chatted about all things queer prehistory, and took part in a creative workshop at the J G Graves Discovery Centre.

    Community building and connecting to nature

    A group of people walking in the woods and smiling

    “I was looking forward to an interesting event on a topic I didn’t know a lot about, but wasn’t sure exactly how it would pan out or what I would learn. I certainly wasn’t expecting it to be such a profound experience. I felt a bit anxious at the start of the event when people started arriving.”

    – Our Transcapes participant

    A number of participants were meeting for the first time at this event; during the walk, they connected over mushroom identification and getting to know each other along the stroll, pointing out beautiful things along with the way (including a member of the public’s dog in a backpack).

    We stopped at a large pond, which hosted a microcosm of flora and fauna we might’ve seen in Mesolithic (Middle Stone Age) Britain and Ireland. We chatted about the Star Carr headdresses and their potential links to inter-world spiritual travel, non-human animal and human animal hybridity, and gender fluidity.

    “As a trans person I loved finding out that ancient societies may have been less binary than we often think of them. I enjoyed spending time with other trans people. There was time to pay attention to the woods and notice the different tree types and fungi.”

    – Our Transcapes participant

    Moving further into the woodland, we came to glades and clearings – emulating the coming of farming to Britain and the forest clearances of the Neolithic (New Stone Age) – before stopping at a flowing stream to discuss possible Iron Age beliefs around sex fluidity and apotropaic (protective) spiritual power.

    As we talked, folks asked questions and discussed things among themselves as they walked. Therapeutic goals 1 and 2 were achieved!

    “I would describe the experience as immersive and integrated. If I was to draw comparisons, I had an emotional response, something which I rarely feel within the traditional, museum/gallery like context . . .

    These objects had a place in which they lived and functioned, a landscape they where born from and contributed to, and seeing them within that world reanimated their bodies and imbued them with spirit.”

    – Our Transcapes participant

    Creative explorations and interconnections

    Heading back to the Discovery Centre, we shared lunch. Therapeutic goal 2 got plenty of look in, as folks sat in a large circle to eat together and chat. People who wanted some quiet time could have that space, and those with various accessibility requirements could rest.

    “S. K. went to great lengths to ensure the event was accessible and took into account people’s energy levels and access needs, making it possible for me to take part in the event and enhancing my connection to the topics.”

    – Our Transcapes participant

    Then, the creative workshop began. We first dived deep into ourselves through some guided breathing. Then, opening our eyes, we gazed at whichever artefact or story from our walk that had struck us the most. Folks were invited to start a dialogue with the artefacts, guided through suggested questions they could ask. Depending on what answers came up, folks could use them to take part in the second element of the workshop: making!

    “Through this dialogue with the object I was able to feel my connection to the land, to people and to all the “ancestors” (beyond human) who have touched my life and who I am and find power in that.”

    – Our Transcapes participant

    Embodying Our Transcapes through art - a participant draws a person coming out of the water and wearing a Star Carr headdress

    Using paints, pens, scissors, glue, pencils and words, participants created a piece of art that encapsulated whatever spoke to them the most from the day. They were fantastic works that will be used to help demonstrate the third therapeutic goal was achieved: increasing feelings of belonging and naturalness through a queering exploration of prehistoric Britain.

    The project’s impact

    Written over a year ago, my first blog about the project after a call with the Queer Natures team, shows the thinking behind my methods while designing this event – and last week, I burst out crying when I read the feedback it received. Every therapeutic goal was represented.

    As a developing creative facilitator, I also learned from the event where I felt the gaps were, how easy it is for time-keeping to slip, and what I can do to make the event more enjoyable for everyone – so it was a win for me, too.

    Future collaborations

    Next on the cards: a wider run of the project for all members of Peak Queer Adventures (not just transgender* folks) – and a younger person’s version for SayIt Sheffield. I’m also putting some feelers out for any spring or summer festivals that might want a queer touch! So, if you’d like to collaborate, you can reach me over at the Contact Page, or email me at [email protected].

    In the meantime, an enormous thank you to the participants who took the plunge on this new project and to the wonderful Queer Natures team, who helped it come into being.

    In a time of increasing transphobia and biological essentialism, it’s good to celebrate our (tr)ancestry – an ancestry that acknowledges the fluidity of peoples and communities and cultures that have walked and shaped this land, including those that didn’t fit the mould.

    “I felt connected to my community and to communities and people and the land stretching back thousands of years. I felt keen to share what I’d learned with others, both the historic perspectives and also the feelings and emotions the workshop had stirred.”

    – Our Transcapes participant

    Rewilding

    Collaborate with S. K.

  • The magic of objects: a new god dolly replica in Britain

    The magic of objects: a new god dolly replica in Britain

    Before attending the Worcester University of Art’s Therapeutic Landscapes conference last year, I never thought physical objects from the past were special in their own right. I assumed their value was in their potential meanings and uses for their makers, unless they were particularly visually striking.

    Since then, the other artists at the conference and my studies in Mesolithic Archaeology have taught me to see things differently. The materiality – the animate natures and imbued qualities that objects can hold when crafted with belief and hope – feels magical. To touch, hold, and feel the weight and texture of these objects is a more embodied engagement with culture for us, too. It helps my body feel more real.

    One such group of objects for me has been the Roos Carr god dollies. Last year, I hired a local artist to create a replica of one of these figures for Our Transcapes, which you can see at the top of this page. But why are they so exciting? When you’re trying to find evidence of non-dual living in prehistoric Britain and Ireland, they really hit the spot.

    What’s a god dolly?

    God dollies are wooden anthropomorphic figurines dating back to the Iron Age (c. 800 BCE – 43 CE), sometimes as far back as the Neolithic (the New Stone Age, c. 4,100-2,500 BCE). Interpreted as spiritually significant by archaeologists (hence their name, ‘god’ dolly), they were often deposited into bogs across North Europe as votive offerings.

    On the continent, god dollies often come in ‘dimorphic pairs’ (where each doll represents one of the ‘binary’ sexes). But in Britain and Ireland, numerous figurines appear to represent sexes that are harder to categorise. For instance, some dolls have both male and female biological sex markers in one ‘body'(e.g., having both breasts and a phallus), while others have fluid sexes (such as having a removable phallus).

    Discovering these objects was incredibly validating to me as a trans* person. It felt like they directly contradicted the current-day myths of the media: that transness – or any kind of non-binary mode of living – is new and unnatural. So how great would it be, I thought, to get one made? Briefing a professional artist to make a human figurine with a removable penis shouldn’t be too hard, right?

    Jason Turpin-Thomson, Sheffield sculptor

    Well, turns out you strike gold if you brief Jason Turpin-Thomson. After emailing tens of wood sculptors and artists from across the UK for this doll, only two responded – and one of them was perfect for our project.

    Jason is a sculptor in Sheffield who has created many public works (the rocking chair in Rivelin River Valley, anyone?) His studio is littered with strange and wonderful sculptures made from bio-organic materials, like bone, wood, copper and iron. He undertook loads of research into these artefacts, and even visited the real Roos Carr figures in the Hull and East Riding Museum. I also learned that one of his family members belongs to the LGBTQ+ community. Perfect!

    Check out Jason’s artwork.

    Mx Roos comes home

    I couldn’t wait to collect the finished Roos Carr doll. Boy, the excitement I felt as I held it! Feeling that smooth holly, and the carved edges where Jason had used Iron Age-inspired tools and techniques, I found it easier than ever to relate to the Iron Age folks who made the originals. I can’t wait to see Our Transcapes participants get to do the same.

    Thanks for bringing some ‘queer’ past to life, Jason – I hope to work with you again!

  • Springtime, Supreme Court rulings and The Sun

    Springtime, Supreme Court rulings and The Sun

    Well. What a month, eh? I’ve now added a category of posts called ‘Trans Rights’. I imagine we’ll be seeing more blog posts about those in the future.

    But for now, here’s some good news. In March, The Queer Natures project team met in person, further fortifying our ideas and practices. I’ve also got some updates regarding my poetry and about Our Transcapes. But the best news of all…? Read below!

    The Sun shows some love

    I’m delighted to announce that Queer Natures has received a very flattering accolade from The Sun newspaper. They mentioned our work with grace, noting the value in recognising the rich interconnectedness between all beings. I couldn’t be more proud.

    My favourite bit:

    £8 billion a year is earmarked for UK Research and Innovation grants … but millions was frittered on woke projects. “Brits know government waste is rampant — but this takes the cake!”

    But, Sir: was it vegan cake?

    Don’t give them the clicks – read a screenshot here (PDF, 345 KB).

    Queer Natures retreat

    S. K. stands at the edge of a murky pool, holding a replica Star Carr antler headdress.
    S. K. delivering Queer Natures, holding a replica Star Carr antler headdress

    The Queer Natures team spent three days together in Devon in March, trialling one another’s projects and learning about responsible facilitation, interrogating the meanings of ‘queer’, and sharing vulnerabilities, stories and learnings as we went. It was an incredibly inspiring retreat.

    Dr Ina Linge brought us together at Dartington Hall, a space that has seen much art and education. Our project producers and supporters from Flock Southwest and Exeter University joined us, as well as guest speakers. I learned a great deal from everyone, and felt a great deal, too!

    My fellow artist in residence, Siân Docksey, offered so much in her workshop. I never thought I’d voluntarily do pole dancing, least of all in front of people I know! But she handled my nerves with confidence, warmth and kindness, giving me the courage to go for it. In return, I experienced a new, freeing embodiment that challenged my own gender assumptions and allowed me to reconnect with my “soft animal body“.

    It was bittersweet, dialoguing with my body for the first time since being chronically ill. The retreat gave me that gift, and I thoroughly recommend Siân’s pole dancing classes for anyone struggling with loving self-embodiment, in whatever way that shows up for you.

    Our Transcapes 

    A black and white photograph of the Roos Carr figurines, Iron Age wooden anthropomorphic dolls. The five dolls stand on a wooden boat, with a serpent head. Some have missing arms. Others hold shields.
    The Roos Carr figurines (C. 600 B.C.E., East Yorkshire)

    The retreat ended with my first run through of Our Transcapes. We headed out to the Devonshire countryside, explored water-bodies and wooded vistas, and shared stories of prehistoric non-dualities found in these lands. We then took part in a creative exploration activity around our own relationships with gender through a creative dialogue with prehistoric ‘queer’ artefacts.

    While Our Transcapes is typically aimed at trans* participants, our project team is made up of folks who are across the LGBTQ+ spectrum, including trans* people. This offered me greater insights into the various different interpretations and experiences the project can offer. The project team offered very helpful feedback, both as participants and experienced facilitators. I’ve now adjusted the project for the autumn, when I collaborate with Peak Queer Adventures.

    Some lovely feedback from a participant:

    “Hugely positive and empowering! I felt the themes were held really sensitively
    and with care, and S.K. is clearly an expert in this material and loved sharing
    it 🙂

    I loved how “in nature” this event was too and broken up between more
    communicative and more introspective sections – having a moment where we
    were invited to be quiet and just connect with the outdoors was great.”

    Before that though, this summer, Dr Ina Linge and I will head to the University of Galway Association for the Study of Literature and Environment’s Biennial Conference to speak about Queer Natures and Our Transcapes. Very exciting stuff – especially as the west coast of Ireland is bog city. I can’t wait!

    Poetry as protest

    Sheffield's protest against the recent Supreme Court Ruling. Hundreds of people face the City Hall, where someone is speaking into a microphone. Trans flags are held up by the crowd.
    Sheffield’s protest against the recent Supreme Court Ruling, defining women by their biology.

    As mentioned earlier, this past month has been hell for trans* folks, especially trans women. Sheffield held a superb protest after the Supreme Court’s ruling, which has effectively backtracked on 20 years of social progress by reducing women to their biological frameworks. As a result, trans people are no longer politically recognised as their gender. Allies across the city joined us for the protest – almost 1,000 people. Many of us cried. But we also loved. And we don’t give up. 

    Finding courage in my fury, I read my poem, ‘the curlews cry’ to the crowd. The poem explores my own relationship with my body, the interconnectedness between all beings, and how dangerous divisive narratives are, whether they be racist, sexist or transphobic. ‘the curlews cry’ has also recently been published in the wonderful literary and art publication, Seedlings: Winter. Find their lovely work here.

    “The bog is in me”

    A painting by S. K., with dead leaves, pills and empty medication packets against a boggy backdrop.
    A painting by S. K., with dead leaves, pills and empty medication packets against a boggy backdrop.

    Leaning into just how much I relate to bogs these days, I recently produced my first visual arts piece in a very long time. It was wonderful to reconnect with an artform I haven’t touched for years. 

    One upside to being chronically ill is my increasing resilience when it comes to sharing and creating works with less fear. I am grateful for that, even if I can’t do as much as I used to. Let’s see what the rest of this year brings. 

    As organisations are advised to segregate trans people from single-sex spaces, I refuse to be so divisive. I send all of you love. Yes, even you, The Sun editors.

    Over and out,

    S. K.