Josie Moon

Poet and Musician


Calling to the Moon

Calling to the Moon, Maria Garner and Vivienne May

Exhibition at Caistor Arts and Heritage Centre

28 Plough Hill, Caistor, Lincolnshire, LN7 6LZ

Open now until May 2nd

Monday – Saturday, 09.00 – 16.00

Sunday and Bank Holidays, 10.00 – 16.00


Maria and Vivienne have worked together to produce an exhibition that is sublimely beautiful, esoteric and involving.  Words and images hang together on the walls of a well laid out and well lit space and draw the viewer into the mystical world of lunar magic and imagery that the two artists have co-created.

Both artists have contributed words and images and although both have unique voices and styles together they create a cogent whole. Works speak to and complement each other.

The exhibition is part of a programme of work that Maria and Vivienne have created in what has proved to be an extraordinary partnership.  This is the second exhibition of the work to have been staged and in May, La Luna publishes the book that has arisen from the collaboration. The book features art work and poetry from both artists and will be launched at a special event on May 17th at the St James’ Hotel, Grimsby.

Calling to The Moon is now available to pre-order. The book is £10 plus £2.50 p&p and can be ordered from this site by leaving a comment or message.

Calling to the Moon is supported by funding from Arts Council England.

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A Great Big Sing

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Saturday 19th May

Signhills School, Hardy’s Road, Cleethorpes

9.30 registration

10.00 – 1.00 workshop

£10 per person inc resources and refreshments. open to anyone aged over 16.  

May is shaping up to be a busy month for La Luna and I’m very pleased to be co-running this workshop with Nic Reed and Jo Townell.  If you’ve sung with us in GGCC then you know that I believe everyone has a voice and everyone can sing;  perhaps not like Mariah Carey but probably like yourself, and that’s enough.  With practice and good technique every voice can develop. This workshop is designed to inspire confidence in your own voice by singing material that is fun, accessible and with enough of a challenge to it that you will feel progress.

Singing together is proven to improve mood and a sense of well-being and in this inclusive, friendly workshop we aim to ensure everyone leaves smiling and uplifted.

If you would like a place, then please do book in advance.  You can book here by leaving a comment and I’ll get back to you to confirm.  We’ll look forward to singing with you.


Being Human

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Death, when it comes is shocking. We know that we will die, but we don’t know it at a deep level and so the fact of death can leave us reeling.  Sudden and unexpected death is always harrowing.  There is little comfort that can be given, few words that we can say that truly express the depth of feeling that accompanies death.  Perhaps the best we can do is simply be there, be present in the face of death, acknowledge it and then stand with the living in honour of the lost one and those that loved them.

At the heart of all life is the certainty of death. Being human is to die.  In the meantime. let’s live gently and well.


Poetry and Poppadoms

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La Luna and Masala Masters are thrilled to be working together to bring what we hope will be the first of a series of events combining food and poetry.

Our first event is at St Mark’s Church, Laceby Road Grimsby on Saturday 5th May between 6.00 – 9.00 pm.  Tickets are £10 per person and can be booked by emailing The ticket price included hot and soft drinks but if you want to accompany your meal with some wine or a beer, please do bring your own.

The evening will feature a delicious home cooked buffet featuring signature dishes from Masala Masters. Vegans and those with food allergies and intolerance will be well catered for.

What will make this a special event will be readings from poets and writers peppered throughout the evening.

Any writers who wish to book a slot should contact Josie Moon as slots will be allocated on a first come first served basis.

We look forward to this event and to a delicious partnership.


Welcome spring

The spring equinox, the move to BST and the imminence of Easter have all made me feel that spring is finally springing, in spite of the insane and unpredictable weather.   I have daffodils in the garden and I am sure if I were to give it a little time and tlc I’d unearth more hidden floral treasures. Unfortunately, gardening has become something of a low priority of late even though in the back of my mind its memory reminds me of how wonderful and therapeutic it is as a daily practice.

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Camellias at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, March 2018.

Walking in the Yorkshire Sculpture Park yesterday, spring was making her presence felt everywhere, particularly in the warm current of air and the blue of the afternoon sky.  Cooler air came off the water but it was fresh and welcome.  The peace, beauty and delight of the place was a wonderful treat. It’s been a harsh winter, characterised by cold, illness and and a prevailing bleakness that has been interior as well as external. It felt yesterday as if that was lifting and I felt grateful for the shift.

On Saturday evening, we went to Lincoln Cathedral to hear Bach’s St Matthew Passion.  While much of the music was compelling and many of the solos gripping and beautiful,  the overall experience was disappointing. The music was muddy, as if lost in the vastness of the cathedral. As awe inspiring and marvellous as the cathedral is, it is cold and I am very tired of being cold.

On balance the cathedral of trees, sky and water, adorned with some truly sublime sculptural art proved more of a soulful and enriching experience yesterday. Walking with my best human, feeling nature wake up all around me was a sensory banquet. There are still shadows to conquer and dark corners which desperately need light. But the light is coming, little be little, day by day. And it is welcome indeed.


Stephen Hawking in The Heavenly Tea Rooms

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Detail from Big Bang by Dale Mackie

Stephen Hawking in The Heavenly Tea Rooms

The Heavenly Tea Rooms open at 10.00 am in The Celestial Garden of Paradisiacal Delight.  The ladies assemble. They are beaming and beatific in the radiance of the morning sunlight that dapples the grass through the trees in the Edenic avenue leading to the shimmering crystal courtyard.

This is where the ladies gather daily; the welcoming committee of grandmothers and great grandmothers, aunts and great aunts. They are majestic as ancient oaks in their white-haired, wizened age. They are abundant with wisdom that dances in their light-filled eyes. Bony as birds, bent over silver-topped canes they carry the grace of well-lived years. Crowned with magnificent hats, plumed like peacocks and bedecked with the pearls of past tears, the ladies dazzle.

The waiter approaches and they rain smiles of pure love upon him for he is their most beloved one. He is a soulful and solemn fellow, dark skinned, bearded and exuding serenity and calm that exceeds his thirty or so years of common age.

‘My most dear ladies,’ he says with a voice that makes all living things take heed.  He is solicitous without being oleaginous, taking care to help seat the ladies and attend to their comfort.

‘Dearest heart,’ says one of the ladies in a voice that tinkles like a tiny glass bell, ‘today is most auspicious.’

‘Indeed, indeed,’ he replies, smiling with his whole being.

‘And has he arrived?’ says another lady, a lady so finely featured she could be mistaken for a porcelain doll.

‘Oh yes, safely delivered and somewhat surprised. But thoroughly gladdened.’

‘Oh splendid. And has he spoken with…’

The waiter cuts her off with a laugh that ripples the air like an enormous tickle.

‘Oh yes, yes! They have been in deep conversation since he arrived and seem to be delighting in each other’s company.’

The ladies laugh sweetly and smile to each other, the knowing smiles of compassionate understanding born of loving companionship.

The waiter pours tea into each lady’s cup. The air is filled with the finest aromas. The ladies sigh contentedly and help themselves to delicate slices of lemon cake.  There is an air of expectation. The waiter leans in and says, ‘dear ladies, the moment is at hand, but before he enters, I must tell you to check the ether, I think it may be of interest.’

The ladies close their eyes and join hands. They laugh, frown, give little gasps and tuts. Then they resume their ritual of tea and cake.

‘Dear boy, our friends in the Westboro Baptist church never fail to be disappointing do they?’  says the silver bell lady.  The waiter shakes his head sadly.

‘And some of those gun-toting lunatics have a strange idea of where they are headed,’ says the porcelain lady.

Their voices contain no judgment, only sadness.

‘The face of ignorance is unblessed,’ says the waiter, ‘and ubiquitous.’

‘Well, when their day comes, won’t they be in for a surprise?’

‘Judge not, and ye shall not be judged,’ says the waiter, ‘and yet so many choose to be judges.’

The air changes very subtly and in a moment. The ladies shiver delightedly and rise from their seats. They turn their attention to the doorway. A child, a dear little boy with Blakeian, fleece-like hair dances through, laughing brightly. He carries a bright yellow balloon in one hand and in his being the very light of the universe.  He smiles a heart mending smile of pure love.

A step or two behind is a slow moving, uncertain figure of a man. His expression is one of awe and bewildered wonder. He blinks and smiles at the ladies whose eyes are shining with tears of unbridled joy.  The porcelain lady steps towards him and extends her hand in greeting.

‘Professor Hawking, welcome to the Heavenly Tea Gardens, it is such a delight to finally meet you in person.’

Professor Hawking, for indeed it is he, takes her hand and shakes it with great tenderness. The little boy watches him for a moment and then goes to stand by the waiter who gives a deferential bow.

The Heavenly Tea Gardens begin to shimmer and tremble slightly. Everyone’s gaze falls beyond its walls to where the universe beyond is opening and expanding. Stars dance, planets gyrate, galaxies and milky ways tumble. And the music, oh, the music. It is, of course the music of the spheres. The porcelain lady turns to Professor Hawking and says,

‘Dear Professor, it is all yours, to enjoy, and explore and delight in for all eternity. But first, do take tea. After all, you have all the time in the world …’

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Books now available from Amazon


The books are now available on Amazon.  If you like the books and like supporting small, independent publishers and authors, then please consider writing a review.  Many thanks.





Today is a writing day, my second this week but it’s gone 11.00 am and so far beyond some rambling scribbles in my journal, there is nothing written. However, my brain is whirring and I can feel ideas lining up. Characters sit in the waiting room, patiently waiting to be written. One is particularly keen to have her moment and she may well be the main focus of the day – when I get going.

Yesterday at the poetry cafe we touched on procrastination and the workings of the unconscious. The value of procrastination is subject to debate. I think of it as periods of composting, when ideas break down and become rich, fertile soil for growing new work. However, too much of it and you really are just staring out of the window at nothing.



Finding the Joy

Sand on the shore

There have been some gentle moments of joy this week, as fleeting as the imprints in the sand shown in the photograph above but captured in the psyche.

Teaching singing is a great joy, whether with the wonderful choir on Monday nights or in schools and workshops. On Wednesday three of my Year 6 girls took me totally by surprise with their entirely serious and thoughtful choreography to a song we were learning. They simply decided to do it and I didn’t interfere.

This afternoon at the poetry cafe, writers came together and all produced some new work out of a workshop exercise I presented. The words were funny, touching and profound and it was a privilege to share that experience.

Other gentle moments this week have occurred in connection with others; a lovely taxi driver who made me laugh; an overheard conversation on a bus between a young man and his carer looking forward to their tea; a chat in the pub with an earnest and beautiful woman shining with the love of her God; a hug from a friend; the blue eyes of my best human looking deep into me and knowing me truly.

Gentle moments in a world that can be everything but gentle. Precious indeed.





Into The Woods KG

It’s been a strange time with the weather. The bone cold brought a deep chill that stilled and stopped everything. There’s nothing like snow to remind Britain of its multiple frailties. Walking in the snow last Tuesday I felt frozen to the marrow, colder than I’d felt in longer than I cared to remember. Those few days of standstill brought some time for rest and quiet but they created a strange unease as well.

This morning when I woke up, my mood was in the thrall of the prevailing cold and unease. I awoke feeling strange to the world and it looked like the mood had me in its grip. Unwilling to lose a day to gloomy introspection and gazing into the impenetrable oddness that prevails I decided to kick it into touch and shift myself into a better frame of mind. This took an effort of will. I was cosy in my melancholy and felt it closing in on me with a soothing, there,there, accept this, for this is how it is.


Reaching into nostalgia and brighter thoughts I grabbed my twelve inch dance version of Bowie’s Absolute Beginners – I know, far from his finest – and wha-wha-wha-oohed my way through it with moderate dancing – it was only 8.45 after all.

It was a joyous 8 minutes, made funnier by the fact that something is slowing my turntable so the song varied in speed as it went, giving it a lovely wonkiness.

The little rush of endorphins from this indulgence powered me into work mode and just as I was sitting down with coffee and doggo company, the sun came out.

I am still in my wilderness period, still following myself into the deep woods and so I expect sadness to walk with me. But not today. Perhaps the clearing is closer than I think.