Let s*#t go

How I look and an accent like mine in the arts means……I’m forever having to let shit go

Making art with young people

I’m currently working with some young people that have been excluded from mainstream education, and they are bright talented and gifted,

When one lad is ready he knows how to push the buttons of the adults around but i can’t but admire his wit and intelligence

There’s so much to think when entering these spaces but the key thing is to know that this is pure privilege working with minds that yes have been hurt by adults the world around them at some point in their young lives…… but yet they still have the brilliance of innocence and importantly imagination that would make the most established london poets shy with wonder!

Making art with young people is magic- they’re not so blocked & still hear frequencies we big ppl have destroyed, hidden or had taken away

Working with young people

I’m currently working with some young people that have been excluded from mainstream education, and they are bright talented and gifted,

When one lad is ready he knows how to push the buttons of the adults around but i can’t but admire his wit and intelliegence

Making art with young people is magic- they’re not so blocked & still hear frequencies we big ppl have destroyed, hidden or had taken away

internet vibes..don’t let hate dictate your reality

So this is why sometimes my voice gets caught the first nasty kick back from the article in the Guardian, got this email just now…..I think he missed the bit about conversation

SUBJECT HEADER: “I’ve just read your attack on the west”

“You escaped civil war, were allowed to come to this country and yet feel entitled to criticise the country that kept your genitals intact and has supported you. If it’s so bad why don’t you return to your culture?”

Hey but you know if i let knobs dictate my reality i wouldn’t exist…….i replied back very nicely i found a man who was just to scared to engage in conversation and was taken back by me responding….

We create our realities don’t let no one hijack your building equipment but always be willing to share …..

link to article that instigated this email exhange…
http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2015/apr/12/young-british-muslim-artists-mohammed-ali-aveas-mohammad-yusra-warsama-aisha-zia

Travelling

The people on the boats are people a well,

They are people, they are people, they are people

The people on the boats are actual people……..

A week in R&D- in a hot july week

Spent a week working on a piece of new writing form an amazing writer, and this isn’t usual what was usual, was the alchemy of the room between the text the actors the writer and the director,

It was nice to be in a rehearsal room where all the elements were on a level, even disruption was absorbed by the no nonsense breathing space that we created and what a script it is,

The magic in a moment, when the writer found a way  to articulate race was special….he described the way i have felt as someone who is black or of colour or different looking (how ever you want to put it ),

He articulated ….The point of being looked at in a space ..the subtle alienation you can have felt but you’re  expected to ignore it or even worse your told its just your imagination,,,,

To that writer, to that young man, to the new father,,, thank you x

your Mother

Your mother has gone to the forest maybe she has been eaten by lions or raped my strange men….they sing to little girls…or maybe she has become warrior queen
Or maybe she has been found by strange men…washer woman ring your bell,
Wake the dead of suited men brill creams hair, telling tales of home speaking of now,
Toasting a far away  sun and revolution and independence has happened as they mark it with a happening and a quite revolution whee the Beatles rocked down the road the cavern were t hosting that day,
Wake the dead so they laugh at our quarrels now why did with bother they might say as we push our selves to lodged is arguments cracks on the ground they sealed with broken hands , but they never told us to keep looking up so we continue to fall,

I Don’t Come Here Often

Someone asked me the other day –  why I don’t have any updates of my current activities or future events,

I felt embarrassed, the same feeling i get when i talk about the work i do,  i shrugged and nearly fell into apology mode…before saying “Its weird” and i’ve been thinking about it,

Maybe its just a polite English thing in one part of my culture, which may be a bit of it. Part of it comes from wanting to have no ego, not to scatter pearls before swine, not to burn crops before they’ve been harvested, not to tell of plans that haven’t not yet been put into action,

There’s a lot of talk and i love talking but there is something about the work speaking for itself, living for a moment, having that shared experience with those you have with and then letting it go,

There’s something really satisfying about that, i must admit that i have a particular allergic reaction to writers particularly poets who take photos of them selves in ‘urban looking areas’  ‘selling’ an image a package. At the same time i look at this website and see pictures of myself and some might argue the same about me,(just note it all about intention)

Plus i think if i was to document every minute i could i would spend so much less time in the present….living

But it’s the ego thing….humility is something precious as it is one of the energies that feeds our connections, the living thing between people, the thing that connects, the unspoken conversations. Now thats the magic and joy of human presence and the brilliance of how many levels we communicate on…..plus when you’re face to face you don’t get the avatar you get the measure of someone

 

Again its been awhile….

….awhile since I posted any thoughts or observations, but I guess it not a bad thing must mean actually living is taking precedent,

I found a list I wrote back in May about all the things  I could blog about, I thought the list was the most interesting thing on it own…It goes like this, (with a few added thoughts in brief)

“Things To Blog About

DEATH (it doesn’t hold any prisoners)

NOAH (the film because I thought they were having a giggle with the casting, since the only glimpse of dark skin I saw was in the village of the damned but I might be wrong as I blinked in that moment)

UNI POEM ( I was asked  to send in a poem I wrote about how the studentification & gentrification of working class areas with the ‘popping up’. Of how the new buildings are depriving the people who live in council homes…of the basics like green spaces and sunlight. If you know Manchester you know what been done the one patch of grass opposite the post office….that’s testament. I’ve not sent in the poem….not sure if it will actually make any change…)

MY SONS TEETH (….the second set grew quite quick)

THE CALMNESS OF WHEN THEY WHEN THEY’RE BABIES TO BREASTFEEDING

JUDGEMENT (The fact we all do it, I just thought it would be good if we could all ask questions and stop being knobs about it all

A few days in France

A few month ago now, I went to this place called Nante and what a beautiful place it was, what was a lot nicer was the group I travelled with from the U.K. most of them were from  Liverpool the whole  thing was trip by the British Council to build potential creative links between the North west and that particular area of France. Even though this simple point was a bit hazy to me at the beginning … “so I’m here because…I might find creative links for the future?….” Great!

The thing about Nantes (by no way or means pronounced ‘Nonce’ as I found out on day one), is that the it was a shipping town and when that industry died it looked as if the area would follow suit but it was revived by the arts and that’s what makes this place special, – they have a giant mechanic elephant that roams the city taking people about – could do with one of them in Manchester.

It was a few intense days – those times when a few days feels like a week till you come home only for it to feel as if it was just a flicker of a moment

On the second day of a three day trip- we were taken along the river to a place called Saint Nezaire, the river Loire runs between the two towns and there’s this ‘arts’ trail, with wonderful things – an industrial chimney that looks like a lighthouse with a functioning little house on top, a surrealist  boat melting almost to the water…frozen in the shape of a banana, a skeleton of a snake by the water constantly living and changing with coming and going tides and tiny organisms – lots of things like this… which is interesting and how great that we were funded to make this trip, how great that some people can see all this wonderful explosion of creative thinking!……but I’m left with questions

Who is this ‘art’ for? –  For those who can afford the time and money to stroll along this river? Have the communities that surround these wonderful things been invited to respond or engage with the work in any way? I fear that the answers all sit in the realm of the expected – and it hurts to think that money dictates if people have the space to let their brains breath and imagine or not…

I guess that’s why we were there to think of a way we could work together, ask lots of questions and ‘create’…something…..us odd looking group of people from the north west, sat together we resembled the odd jigsaw pieces that have been forgotten about found at the bottom of my kids toy box but if you set the pieces out right you see something splendidly different

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