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The Heartwood Institute

@heartwood9.bsky.social

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Home of The Heartwood Institute and associated projects.

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@moranstephen1000.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:30 PMReposted by @heartwood9.bsky.social

Sucker

@hookland.bsky.socialOct 8, 2026, 5:40 PMReposted by @heartwood9.bsky.social

Autumn comes to the cottages with carpets of apple rot that sour the air with vinegar tang. Comes in a dressing of the year not in green gowns, but wounded rags of brown. It comes as a fear of early darkness. A terror of hungry spirits that rush the path. – #DAKilory, 1982

@bobfischer.bsky.socialOct 5, 2026, 3:38 PMReposted by @heartwood9.bsky.social

Fresh on the Haunted Generation site... my previous @forteantimes.bsky.social column, so hello @willmac23.bsky.social @waysideandwoodlandrecordings.bandcamp.com @goldensamphireband.bsky.social @heartwood9.bsky.social @famishedforblonds.bsky.social... hauntedgeneration.co.uk/2026/10/05/t...

@heartwood9.bsky.socialOct 6, 2026, 8:27 AM

🤘

@generalwitch.bsky.socialOct 4, 2026, 7:17 AMReposted by @heartwood9.bsky.social

The end is here. We reach the grim, apocalyptic conclusion to the big screen incarnation of Nigel Kneale’s Quatermass in The Quatermass Conclusion

We break down the theatrical cut, human harvesting, and the ultimate fate of Professor Bernard Quatermass

Listen, subscribe, share: tinyurl.com/qMass4

A promotional graphic for a podcast episode titled The Quatermass Conclusion. The image has a light purple frame at the top and bottom with bold black text reading ‘NEW PODCAST EPISODE’ in a top banner and ‘THE QUATERMASS CONCLUSION’ in a bottom banner.   The central image features a close-up of Sir John Mills as Professor Bernard Quatermass, looking weary with gray hair, a mustache, and a small cut on his cheek. To the left, white text quotes: “‘Hey you, get ready get on your feet’”. Cut out in the lower-left corner is a black-and-white photo of the three podcast co-hosts smiling.
@theunfinished.bsky.socialSep 9, 2026, 9:02 AMReposted by @heartwood9.bsky.social

Limited flash sale on my website. 6 synth soundsets slashed by 50% for 48 hours.

Generate Noire, FM8 Akheron, Trilian Raptor, Massive Omicron, Uno LX Lunox & Filterscape VA Regen.

Got get 'em! If you like synth sounds, that is. :P

www.theunfinished.co.uk

@hookland.bsky.socialSep 4, 2026, 5:09 PMReposted by @heartwood9.bsky.social

Today's answer to the question what is Hookland?

What is Hookland?

Hookland is England as seen from the ghost train.

It is a fierce refusal to let psychogeographers tell you that when you talk about spirits of place you can’t really believe in them. It is all the books you borrowed time and time again from the library as a child – encyclopaedias of horror films, Usborne’s Worlds of the Unknown UFOs and Charles Berlitz’s The Bermuda Triangle.

It is walking home through the woods in November mist and feeling that the place has monsters, not the sort they made into Aurora model kits, but old, nameless things that are fed by the fear you’ve had of this place since that murder a few years back. It is the terror of living in a haunted landscape. It is the delight of living in a profoundly haunted landscape. Hookland is the place that you can almost allow yourself to believe in magic again before realising it is a territory you already inhabit. Shared space where all the broken memories of childhood are resuscitated and walking alongside you.

It is knowing the names of Soviet spacemen orbiting above and feeling the youthful power if recognising which mushrooms are poisonous. It is sneaking into fields to release crows from cruel traps and thinking up mad schemes to raise money to buy fireworks when the air becomes rich with the intoxicating smell of bonfires. It’s being more scared by gaudy movie posters for films that you haven’t ever seen than being afraid of the things your parents constantly warn you about.

It is knowing that everywhere is layers of story, layers of memory and realising you may be the ghost of someone else’s future.

It is a French radio station on AM, full of songs you hear and instantly love, but will spend the rest of your life trying to remember what the title was, which band it was.

On its jagged rocks, its snaring brambles, fragments of ripped cloth that you know are clues to something you have forgotten. Something important you cannot unlock.

It is home.
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