Ahead of the Cannes premiere of her documentary about a cow, the Oscar-winning director reflects on how a childhood spent in the Kent edgelands informed her life, work and worldview
Whenever I have felt troubled or lost or overwhelmed with life I have always sought nature. It has always grounded me and put me in touch with myself again. No one taught me this. It came quite naturally. Like some innate knowledge. Partly I think because I had a very free childhood. My mum had me very young, at 16, and three siblings followed by the time she was 22. My dad was only a few years older. I never saw him that much in my early years and he was gone completely by the time I was 10.
So, unsupervised most of the time, I lived a fantastically wild life. I grew up in north Kent on an estate surrounded by liminal wilderness. From early, I would spend entire days roaming wherever the fancy took me. Between estates and chalk pits and deserted old industrial spaces and woods and motorways. Out of this grew a deep love of insects and birds and animals and plants. Stray estate dogs, the Traveller ponies chained by the motorway, the fish and frogs in the water-filled bomb site, wild strawberries on the banks of the chalk pits. I can conjure up these places vividly now. The smells and sounds and feels and colours.
from The Guardian https://ift.tt/3jQxGAL
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