Music and visual arts don't hibernate either, with Jazz Jam at the Cornerhouse and Geniology at the Olive Tree, and a new exhibition at Frome's tiniest gallery:
Wednesday saw serious play in Victoria Park, as WPA-play brought games and activities to help the families of Frome to celebrate National Play Day. I googled the logo and discovered "WPA is a small, dynamic, voluntary sector organisation committed to the promotion and provision of outdoor play to inspire, challenge and empower children, young people and communities to affect positive change." The pedant in me wishes they would effect change, not just affect it, but it all looked terrific fun.
Another incoming group with a mission to entertain is Wonderlust Theatre, a 'new theatre company with a nomadic sense of home'. Their first project is LIVE FROM FROME, 0% FUNDING, 100% ART, a performance based on remembered performances contributed by Fromies. Interviews and the devised show this weekend are all at The Works Canteen, and after chatting with actress Kirsty Mary Wood I'm especially sorry I won't be able to see the outcome because I won't be here...
... I'm packing for the Writers' Lab on Skyros, in the island's name-sake town: a cluster of white-washed buildings climbing up the huge landmark rock on the eastern coast, ancient cobbled streets soaked in myth and vibrant with modern Greek culture too. It's a fallacy of course that the future will resemble the past, but I'm hopeful of once again watching sunrise from Rupert Brooke square, writing and sharing words under the fig trees of the centre garden, herb-scented walks down the cliff-path to the beach in the afternoon, and supper in tavernas open to the music and talk of the townsfolk in the warm night air.
... I'm packing for the Writers' Lab on Skyros, in the island's name-sake town: a cluster of white-washed buildings climbing up the huge landmark rock on the eastern coast, ancient cobbled streets soaked in myth and vibrant with modern Greek culture too. It's a fallacy of course that the future will resemble the past, but I'm hopeful of once again watching sunrise from Rupert Brooke square, writing and sharing words under the fig trees of the centre garden, herb-scented walks down the cliff-path to the beach in the afternoon, and supper in tavernas open to the music and talk of the townsfolk in the warm night air.
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