Something both old and new
From the rhythm of sounds to the fragments of memory, a reminder that inspiration is everywhere.
When I was at college studying theatre arts (way back in 1997), we performed a poem called Wednesday.
It began…
Wednesday. Visiting day. A cat’s lick, spit in a hanky, you’ll do I suppose day.
And proceeded to tell a story in sounds, feels and snippets. I loved the sensory richness of it, and the way it rolled and s…
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