Andrew Mitchell

I'm over the moon to be included in the Spring 2026 issue of @tractorbeam.earth , a quarterly publication of soil-based climate fiction that reimagines how humans can live more harmoniously with nature.  Tractor Beam is a bold new literary platform that blends regenerative agriculture, soil science, and earth-centered innovation with visionary storytelling. Soilpunk! Tractor Beam is about optimistic visions for life on this planet, looking down at the soil not up at the stars for our hope for the future. Their fifth issue, titled “Underground” launched on March 21st, guest edited by @asgharthegrouch . All of this issues stories are rooted in soil: soil as a technology, as a medium, as an inspiration, as the basis for life on earth. My story, Unbecoming, explores how a fungal invasion transforms a nation into a shared mycelial consciousness, dissolving individuality, capitalism, and loneliness into a collective, euphoric decay that returns humanity to the soil. A celebration of how earth itself holds the blueprint for what we might become together. And the fact the story is illustrated by the absolutely incredible @nathanielrussell has blown my tiny mind.  Unbecoming is inspired by soil because the very act of decomposition, of breaking down the old structures of ownership, of competition, and of isolation, is the most fertile act of renewal.  Read mine and the other amazing stories heading your way over the coming weeks at tractorbeam.earth and follow along on their Instagram, on Substack, and on Bluesky.  #soilpunk #tractorbeam #TractorBeamUnderground

A few years ago @suedyer13 kindly donated her family collection of WMC annual subscription cards. I was, and remain, overjoyed with them. These miniature passcards were kept in a leatherette wallet as proof you had paid your yearly bit to the club, entitling you to entry. They exist now as a tiny reminder of the vital role working men's clubs / social clubs once played in north east life. I've just managed to track down a full collection of nineties cards as well. Whether I'm able to source any earlier than 1965 remains to be seen. I've cobbled them together here to remind you to have a deeks at my Pull Together project over on my website. A collection of club reportage with slogans layered across the images. Slogans drawn from the vernacular of working-class life, carrying the cadence of protest banners, of last orders, of something worth fighting for This weekend, pass on those ten pound pints in town and treat yourself to a pint of Stones ensconced in wild carpets, Formica tables and fitba on the big screen with the sound every so slightly out of sync with the picture. Extra points if the club has the quintessential @flat_roof_murder_pub architectural aesthetic. Link in bio and story. #wmc #socialclub #saveoursocialclubs #pulltogether

Long before they became the subject of my @wmc.ne project, Emma and I were already crawling the North East's social clubs, pint and peely in hand, taking it all in. Those days together, drifting through faded function rooms and knackered bars, weren't just research. They were ours. Pull Together is another of the artistic offshoots of my ongoing work, an attempt to honour what these working-class institutions really are. Not relics, but living proof that communities held each other up when nothing else would. It was our social clubs and their clientele providing the hyperlocal check-ins and flowers when everything went west with Emma's health. Since her treatment and surgery, our club visits carry a different weight. But, for now, the clubs still stand, suspended in time, quietly insisting that solidarity isn't just a memory. They are, in the truest sense, hauntological spaces. Neither fully present nor fully gone, haunted by the lives lived inside them and the futures that never arrived. This is what my work keeps returning to: the way place holds memory, how the past bleeds into the now, how something can be fading and vital at the same time. These clubs aren't just photographed. They're felt. Link in bio and story for the whole series.

While many practice their nonsensical 38 step Korean face care routine before bed, this is our routine. Emma has Bilateral Nephrostomies, two, thin flexible tubes that are fitted directly into her kidneys. Urine, instead of draining into the bladder is passed into two small bags, one on each hip. This is then drained into secondary bags, with a small tap, that are worn on each leg. These need emptying roughly every 90 mins as the process never stops. At night, third bags are attached to the secondary bags. These are larger capacity, to allow all night drainage. She still needs to get up twice throughout the night to ensure the bags are working are expected. I then disconnect and dispose of them each morning. The first and second bags last about four days, and are changed by district nurses to lessen the chance of infection. Cancer brings an unending level of complication to sufferers lives, when a diagnosis itself is far more than anyone should ever have to deal with. And that's why it can get fucked. #fuckcancer

It's Mental Health Awareness Week, which feels like the right time for an update. Emma has developed terrible pain in her hip. She's spoken to her GP who has increased her morphine dosage. The lower amount wasn't it's not touching the sides so hopefully ramping it up will help. She also has an X-ray on Friday to find out the cause of this particular issue.  We've finally been told about her oncology appointment which, sadly, isn't for two weeks. It's seems ages away but it does give her time to let her wound heal further. The bleeding she experienced has lessened and, fingers crossed, the antibiotics are helping to finish off any infection she might have.  As walking around is pretty much off the table were going to check out some lightweight transit wheelchairs. Something that can be easily be put in the back of the car. Something to help us get out of the house.  As for me, I'm going to seek out some counselling and start taking these. It's been a long time since I've been on the SSRI Bus but, at the moment, everything is a little too much because the truth is, this, all of this, even from the sidelines is really fucking hard.  And I know I'm not alone in feeling this. So, if your struggling, make sure you reach out to your people. It won't take everything away, but I promise it will help.  #fuckcancer

They told us in a bland side office with a nineties watercolour print hanging on an otherwise empty wall. I can almost see the print in my mind but the image won't resolve. I think it was a bench looking out over an ocean view. "Treatable. Not curable." That's all I heard. Emma's surgeon then talked for about fifteen minutes, flanked by a nurse who sat in silence. Like us. Emma's cancer has returned and spread to her bladder, liver and pelvis. Reoccurring within a year classifies this as stage four. Our next step is a meeting with her oncologist who will shape her chemo treatment. That will take place at the QE in Gateshead, making it somewhat easier in terms of location. She'll be monitored throughout and rescanned in the coming months to see how the cancer is responding to the treatment. "Nothing is off the table," we were told. Liver resection, pelvic surgery, radio ablation. More chemo. We're hoping that treatment will start in the coming weeks. We have things to sort out; an avalanche of adult admin, all practical, none of it fun. But we intend to do our damdest to find the good in the weeks to come. But do us both a favour, go and tell the people you love, that you love them. Spend time, hold space. That's what's important. That's all that's important. #fuckcancer

In 2012 we lost a potent force for good. Adam Yauch was a founding member of the Beastie Boys and avowed social activist. He created the Milarepa Fund, which produced the Tibetan Freedom concert series and long promoted the cause of HH the Dalai Lama and the self-determination of the Tibetan people. In 1994 I bought a copy of Vox magazine which came with a free cassette, a fictitious radio show from K-Vox Radio. This superlative mix featured the Buck Wild Remix of Get It Together, the phenomenal freestyle from Q-Tip, recorded while on psilocybin mushrooms. This lead me to the Beasties' Ill Communication and Check Your Head. These, along with the rest of Beastie Boys oeuvre have lived in constant rotation on tapes, CDs and streaming.  On Ill Communication,which is brim full of incredible songs, the track Boddavista Vow, puzzled teenage me. The distorted vocals layered over Monks chanting was unlike anything I'd heard. And it was this that lead me to learn about Buddhism, impacted hugely by Yauchs devotion to it.  MCA changed rap by calling out the enshrined misogyny of the genre, inspired millions and had a profound effect on me. He'll be forever missed. If you've got Apple TV and haven't watched the Spike Jonze directed documentary about them, treat yourself to a viewing today.  "For the rest of my lifetimes and even beyond I vow to do my best, to do no harm And in times of doubt, I can think on the Dharma And the Enlightened Ones who've graduated Samsara"  RIP MCA

I'm blessed with an abundance of super talented people in my life, one of whom is @juniorwalesy . We were delighted to be able to see her tread the boards this afternoon in the fabulous Everybody's Talking About Jamie by the @_wbmtc . I haven't seen Sarah on stage in years sadly but what a return to the limelight. Her performance as Jamie's mam, Margaret New, was, and I say this putting my relationship with Sarah to one side, phenomenal. Her version of He's My Boy, a pivotal moment in the show, ruined me as she balanced raw emotion with genuine tenderness. The song showcases Margaret's love and unconditional support for Jamie. Something Sarah has done for Em and I in spades. I'll never not be in awe of her talent and my life is immeasurably richer for having her in it. I hope this is a real return to her love of the stage because she's fucking amazing. Sending love ahead of the final performance tonight ❤️

Finished something today that I nearly didn't. The last few weeks, the creative part of my brain has felt like it was just... gone. Replaced entirely by worry. But this story, about a neurodivergent man (write what you know kids), a supplement that breaks physics, and what happens when someone tries to turn your mind into a commodity, kept pressing at me until I let it out. It started from a throwaway comment by the brilliant David Kenney about tech bros weaponising ADHD and autism as an inevitable self-upgrade.  I'd like to think, if such a thing were possible, someone like Toby would point this world changing skill at something that actually matters. Link in bio and story.

We were woke up with a delivery early this morning. A huge box full of nephrostomy supplies. Boxes of hip bags, leg bags and night bags, additional tubing, cleansing wipes and bin bags. This is on top of Emma's ostomy bags, dry wipes, pads, adhesive remover sprays and more. We've treated ourselves to another storage box for the latest arrivals to try keep this organised. Thanks for fetching @juniorwalesy . This is what chronic illness looks like. Endless medical supplies that you need in abundance because no pharmacist stocks them (which is crackers). Chronic illness requires elite level planning and keeping on top of supplies because running out simply isn't an option. When we had the bathroom done we thought the cupboard would be canny, turns out it was vital. Super grateful for the incredibly speedy service from Nightingale who got us the supplies so promptly. Next stop, the council, to order a second household bin. Goes without saying, but say it I shall - #FuckCancer

And we have her home! Immense gratitude to the incredible team who have looked after Em for the last week. Time to work out this version of normal. A tough ask, but a restful weekend is on the cards. Fluid monitoring, temperature monitoring, and anything and everything else. So happy to be able to take care of Em at home. Thank you for the kind messages everyone. And thank you to @juniorwalesy for being beyond wonderful. #FuckCancer

Another update. When Em was transferred to the Freeman last Friday for her emergency kidney operation the surgeon spotted something abnormal and biopsies were taken. This was followed by a CT Scan on Tuesday. What we now know is that her cancer has reoccured in her bladder wall, her liver and a couple of lymph nodes. A multi disciplinary team are meeting next week, including her oncologist and surgical team, to discuss her plan. Systemic chemotherapy (whole body) will very probably be the first line of treatment.  Reoccurance is always a risk for any cancer patient but this fact doesn't detract from the worry and anxiety that goes with the waiting for the full picture. Having Emma forced into another battle is never what we wanted. It's a scary and unsettling time. The fact all of this was found out by Emma, who was recovering from surgery in hospital on her birthday, alone, is beyond heartbreaking.  We will hopefully be able to bring Emma home today. Her bloods continue to improve as the toxicity from the blockage leaves her system. This is remarkable as she was practically in renal failure a week ago.  Nephrostomies work continuously, so the bags need emptying often so I'll be on hand to help, along with district nurses who will visit every other day to change bags and dressings. This is a post I never wanted to have to write. The uncertainity is ramped to 11 and the human mind is PhD level in catastrophisation but I'm choosing to focus on the incredible people working in our local hospitals who will help to treat Emma with whatever comes next.  We will learn more in the coming days as the treatment plan is devised and we will follow any and all guidance we're given. Believe you me I detest being the person who seems, all too often, be the bearer of bad tidings, however keeping things in leads to nothing good.  Thank you everyone who has reached out, sent their love and best wishes. Keep Emma in your thoughts.  #FuckCancer