Stina Harris wanted to create "something halfway between a brothel and a temple" for Frome's Women's Day celebrations and she has, sumptuously, sacred & sleazy mingling superbly in the Sun Street Chapel exhibition. Centrepiece among the artwork to 'rejoice and honour' femininity is the sensuous sofa littered with handmade roses, ideal for a reclining goddess to pose, as Stina does here in her Coat of Sin. There was a peace vigil the morning I dropped in, especially apt as we mourn the slaughter of Afghan families by the soldier who 'didn't want to go'...

Another celebration of the female this week, though a sad one: Friday was the funeral of beautiful Jo Lindsay, smart, creative and wickedly funny, and a treasured member of Frome writers' circle. She was a great cartoonist too, and my study wall is hung with her (personalised) interpretation of a story I'd told her of the frog urging a woman to kiss him on the grounds that he'll become a prince and marry her, and meeting the response "I think I'd prefer a talking frog"... Here's Jo when I first met her, in Tuscany in 1996, and the way I'll always remember her: with a dazzling sunflower and a big grin.

A Postcard From... is the theme of the new STAGEWRITE event onstage at The Merlin. We had our runthrough at Des's house this week, and I'm gratified & excited to report the standard is startlingly high. Sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, always authentic is my favourite review quote, and it's never been more true. If you're in striking distance of Frome & you haven't yet booked for next Thursday, do so now!

Back in the winter of 2009, Inua Ellams came to Frome with his deeply personal 14th Tale of the life of a Nigerian in England and I was privileged to be his curtain-raiser act. He's touring again, with Black T-Shirt Collection, which arrived at Bristol Old Vic this week. This extraordinary 80 minute monologue is such a tour-de-force of lyrical story-telling and metaphors for modern life it's hard to describe it. Imagine you’re a Christian child fostered by Muslims. Imagine your brother is gay and you live in Nigeria where retribution is terrifyingly violent. Imagine you went on the run together through alien lands, culture-shocked and missing family & friends, became successful entrepreneurs but belatedly realise the exploitative basis of your business. These are the challenges of Inua’s character Matthew, told on a stark, dark, stage with sparse graphic-novel style illustrations and minimal sound as he learns the political, economic, & social realities of life - and the limits of love. The pain is nearly unrelenting but the integrity of Inua's story-telling gives vitality to this unforgettable piece. It's coming to Frome's Merlin in May, please don't miss it.
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Red Light Winter by Adam Rapp is the first of director Laurence Boswell's American season at Bath's prestigious Ustinov studio theatre. Unrequited passion is a harsh subject in any era and place - here we are in loosely contemporary Amsterdam and New York - and this exploration of love and lust despite graphic scenes is more tragic than erotic. Putting aside the deconstruction of literature & its relationship to the American Dream, this story is a love triangle comprising two naive victims manipulated by one alleged charmer of TV-soap standard villainy. He lies, he betrays, and he buggers - in fact he does all three together while on the phone, in startling refutation of male difficulty in multi-tasking. Maybe the hooker's infatuation would have seemed more credible if he'd been less shouty and obnoxious, or maybe the point is that some people are inevitable victims. Whatever, the audience found much to laugh at (mostly the rude words actually, but this is Bath) in a busy script, the actors were impressive, and the set & lighting were superb.

Still on the subject of sex in the city, Bath Lit Fest offered an intimate look at the 'Frail Sisterhood' - 18th Century courtesy title for women who follow the oldest profession. Rosie & I joined historian Kirsten Elliott in her walk around the lewder & more lascivious streets, to hear tales of the beauties and bawds whose lives are a significant though hidden part of the history of Bath. From wealthy courtesans like Kitty Fisher, Joshua Reynolds' favourite model, to disorderlies who came to sticky ends, our 2-hour prowl around the staid pale Georgian buildings revealed scores of colourful stories. Kirsten's folder of quotes for every corner illustrated a timeless mix of lust and fear in male responses: 'panting breasts and soft music' to some, 'dissolute women and piano-playing so respectable people are ashamed to live here' to others. I especially liked Harris's List of whores, listing the qualities & even genitalia of each nymph rather as a garden catalogue might describe their floribunda. Among much intriguing data the overwhelming fact to emerge was that elegant Bath was once so notoriously licentious the very name of it set men salivating, though most of these women's stories were more of sadness and squalour than success... but who would expect anything different.

Another, and more specific, celebration of the 100th International Women's Day was held in St Michael's Church as a hundred women took turns to read a poem or prose extract by a woman. Six of Frome's writers - Rose Flint, Rosie Jackson, Rosie Finnegan, Alison Clink, Jill Miller, and me - contributed and as well as being fascinated to hear others' choices we felt immensely privileged to participate.

And I'm still in Bath as evening falls, for supper with my friend Diana, editor & broadcaster. Diana doesn't subscribe to the value of 'time-rich' living, preferring to be 'time-focussed', and takes the opportunity to interview me for her Glastonbury radio programme on 'love, loss, and therapy'. A fitting end to International Women's Day.