20.15 Blog #11 Be Chronos: Workshop planning & delivery

20.15 Blog #11 Be Chronos:  Workshop planning & delivery

There’s nothing like the revelation that a music single you remember having a profound effect on your musical tastes came out 10 years ago to make you reflective.

(for the record, the single was I Bet You Look Good On The dance Floor by t’Arctic Thunkies and I hated them at the time)

I have been leading workshops in youth theatre, schools and for adults for about 2 years now.  It came from the decision to really try and push myself as a freelance artist.  If I’m honest, most of my income comes from workshops.  I gig all the time, but I find gigs are for travel expenses or for charities or local low-funded events.  At least, that’s my perspective.  I’m far from an expert.  I have loads to learn.  I also have 3 workshops I need to be planning instead of this blog.  It’s putting my thoughts down neatly to I can control them.  But that’s a freelance time management skill to wrestle.  You need to control time. 

Be Chronos.

I’m doing a term as an artist in residence at a Primary School looking at Greek Myths.  They’re a bloody bunch.

(the Greek Titians/Monsters/Heroes/Gods.  Not the kids)

I spent a good time stressing about how you lead workshops.  How.  Do.  You.  Lead.  Workshops?  I worried about discipline, construct, content, standard, inclusiveness and enjoyability.  I shouldn’t have worried, but just considered.

I am really grateful for York Theatre Royal for giving me my first opportunities with young people leading sessions, as well as friends for looking over my workshop plans and being someone to check against/with.

The fact is, not every workshop needs to change someone’s life.  And if it’s for teenagers, they might look like they hate your guts and want to tear you apart.  They probably do.  But you can run faster than them, and hopefully own a car.  You can’t judge your skills on every single encounter with a group, and you can’t chalk up hits and misses.  It ain’t boxing (though it might feel more painful).

I always write aims/objectives at the top of my plan.  Keep a track of it, even if it’s ‘Make sure XXX is engaged’, ‘get to learn names’ or ‘finish scene’. 

My style is often relaxed.  I try and crack jokes, I’m not always overly disciplined, and on reflection could be a tad more.  But I do like to move at pace.  I give people 15 mins, I usually mean 13.  I like to keep people moving and thinking.  I use a stopwatch.  Even when everyone is engaged and scribbling away or merrily devising, I like to keep an eye on the time.

Try to predict times.  Don’t worry about times.  Keep a track of times.  Always leave plenty at the end.  Time is important.  You can’t control it.  You are in charge of time.  It’s your decision.  Tame it.  Bow to it.  Just make sure you wear a watch.  Be Chronos.

But I think the most important lesson I’ve learnt (read:  I am learning) is about passion:

I have found over the past year or so there have been times my energy levels have waned, or I haven’t planned the workshop as well as I might have, or taken particular care over a certain aspect.  As much as the other factors need addressing, always bear this in mind and you won’t go far wrong, I reckon.

But what you can do is go into each workshop with enthusiasm, because at the very least if you show you care, then that’s an important lesson in artistic-based work.  That someone actually has investment in their delivery, which does have an impact in the people you’re working with.

But I’m talking about Chronos, the embodiment of time in Greek Mythology.  Not the titian of the same Mythology, Cronus.  Cos he ate children.  Top tip:  if you do that, you might not be invited back. 

Bearded Blog 20.15 #10: The Best Beards In The [B]oetry Business

Does the poet grow Beard, or does the Beard grow [the skill] of the poet?

Is there a direct correlations between the length and strength of a poet’s Beard and their Words?

Can you define poets into subcategories of genre based upon their facial hair?

Some of these questions are for a longer dissertation.  Possibly a PhD study.  Talk show.

But here are some of my fav Beards on the poetry scene, and the faces, mouths, tongues and brains that sit, tight, protected behind the hairs like gnawing tigers in jungles of Saying Things.

Jack ‘Jack Dean’ Dean

https://www.facebook.com/jackdeanwriter

@MCJackDean

Theatre-maker and word throwing Jack Dean has an imagination like a vicious animal constantly sniggering, jigging and rerigging mighty pirate ships bound for the world of Wha…?!  When he performs, your brain feels like it’s Wonder Woman, arms flailing in trying to catch each bullet flying forth with your bullet-proof magical bracelets.  The bullets are Jack’s words.  It’s no surprise then, that Jack’s Beard is like a fuzzy Critter clinging to his chin.  Not so wild it could be a threat to you, but possibly a danger to your lower brain functions, to the darkest recess of your imagination, to your children and their children.

Beard rating:  10/10

Dan ‘Nerdsmith’ Simpson

https://www.facebook.com/dansimpsonpage

@ DanSimpsonPoet

Dubbed by many, if not all, as The Bearded Blur Of The Edinburgh Fringe 2015, Dan is one of life’s Doers, a man with lots of spinning plates, lots of skills and lots of energy.  How he took the time out of his busy schedule to grow his Beard, who, if none, can say.  Perhaps some kind of chrono-structural-warping serum?  In any event, Dan’s poetry is packed with wordplay, carefully co-ordinated and crafted with the same pains as Administrators construct their oh so important spreadsheets.  This precise geeky care is reflected in a highly preserved and prized Beard that all 13 year-old nerds dream of one day obtaining.

Beard rating:  10/10

Monkey ‘Matt Panesh’ Poet

https://www.facebook.com/monkeypoetuk

@Monkey_Poet

Watch out!  He’s about!  The madcap antics of Monkey Poet belong on some kind of television show broadcast kate at night, beloved in cult circles by stoners and your brother’s strange mate.  Monkey poet is all limbs and spittle, an assault of words, most of them either rude, crude or both.  Monkey Poet fuzzy beard is a loveably sprawl of tangled barbed-wire, the kind of Beard you might lose your kite in.  Behind that smiley friendly face often see down Niddry Street with wise/safe advice and pint/two pints in hand(s) lurks the filthy mind of a manic mucky monkey and this is reflected in Monkey Poet’s Beard, scruffy but lovely, warped but warm, hairy, a wee bit scary.  Highly sweary lumberjack.

Beard rating:  10/10

Tim ‘Honours The Beard’ Clare

@TimClarePoet

You know when you’re out and about on a dark story night, and you see a man build an effigy in the local park?  When you see them curse the Gods up high, tear off their clothes in a fury to match the heavens themselves? Then, with all the rage of Hell, you see the man set the effigy alight and dance around the flames like a small child at a Wedding Disco?  Then, you realise, in the light of the flame, the effigy turns out to be a twig-based replica of YOU.  Then the man turns around, catches your eyes and your brain screams RUN?  Well that’s what it’s like watching Tim Clare perform poetry.  And his Beard, at first glance, is fairly short, trimmed, neat and acceptable.  But then, on closer inspection, it’s the kind of Beard that could snap at any moment, grow like a Beanstalk, reach out and strangle your brain.  In a good way.

Beard rating:  10/10

Stu ‘Free Stone’ Freestone

@StuFreestone

https://www.facebook.com/Stu-Freestone-Spoken-Word-Poet

Stu doesn’t have a Beard, he kind of has a little bit of stubbly fluff.  That’s OK, cos we like him regardless.

Beard rating:  10/10

David ‘Don’t leave the door a’ Jarman

The kind of Beard you’d see in the Minster Inn on a Tuesday night.  The kind of Beard that takes you for a pint, talks sense and then talks shit.  The kind of Beard you could trust to pay you back a fiver.  The kind of Beard that tells you that, yeah, you might have put on a few pounds but don’t worry about it, have another pint, you look great anyway.  The kind of Beard that would lose at darts to make you feel better.  The kind of Beard that you wouldn’t get in Star Wars. The kind of poet who rambles and speaks sense with every line.
Beard rating 10/10

Henry ‘Oh yeah, that guy from York, yeah I think I’ve seen his stuff on YouTube, and I think he Tweeted me once.  His Beard’s is a bit weird; it’s all scruffy and tangly.  It looks like for a week at Uni back in 2010, he didn’t shave and it just kind of grew from there.  It sticks outwards rather than downwards, and it’s quite patchy but to be fair if he didn’t have it, he’d look like a 16 year-old. ’ Raby

The plug socket for my shaver doesn’t work in my bathroom.

Beard rating:  10/10

Note: All Beards are wonderful on any face, man, women, all genders or no gender.  No Beards are also great.  Bodies are great, and body/hair shaming sucks.

20.15 Blog #9: Edinburgh : The Story of Edinburgh 2015

Edinburgh :  The Story of Edinburgh

The first time I went to EdFringe was 2009.  Remember those dying days of Brown, when selfie sounded like a cute way of saying LONELY and the world waited with bated breath whether Harry Potter would survive the next, and last, two films?

He did.

I then went and worked teching with C Venues in 2010, and again with Pleasance Venues 2011.  Both times I had a great time, the work was hard and the rewards far from monetary but it was a great experience for anyone just out of University looking for a fun summer.  But I was a techie, and I was bursting to be recognised as an artist.

In 2012 I took my solo show, Letter To The Man (from the boy) with support from Pilot Theatre.  If setting up a venue, teching 10 shows a day and then stripping it all down sounds hard, then it’s nothing compared to the emotional rollercoaster of making a show, putting on a show and then dismantling the show.  And yourself!

The next few years I visited the Fringe to do scratches or see friends or catch the odd show, with the additional open mic or slam slot.  Then, this year, I kinda got the taste to return.  To take something and once more try and prove a worthy artist in the arena or performance.

I made my show, Up The Nerd Punks, from a collection of pre-existing poems and wrote some new ones around them.  It felt good and artistic, but it didn’t get in the way of my other projects for The Laurence Batley Theatre, Hull Truck or York Theatre Royal.

EdFringe was very fun.  I did x2 hours of flyering a day, which made me feel good when hardly anyone showed up, because frankly I went with the old punk adage:  At Least I Tried.

♫ At least I f**king tried. That’s the only eulogy I need ♪- Frank Turner, Eulogy

Last night, me and some chums watched Anvil:  The Story of Anvil.  It’s about some old metalhead rockers from the 80s trying one last time, having one last attempt, putting all their hope and faith into a dream of making a glorious metal album.  And all the way through, lead singer Lips has a driving hope that you just gotta believe, after 10, 20, 30 years, ya just gotta keep going and at the end of the day, if you don’t make it, then at least you can look yourself in the mirror. 

♫ Metal on metal, it's the only way, to hell with tomorrow, let's live for today ♪ - Anvil, Metal On Metal

Anvil’s problem is they come from a school of music which measures success by proportions.  Their idols were Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin, their peers were Motorhead and Bon Jovi, their successors were Metallica and Anthrax.  Stadiums, festivals and grand gestures.  They are almost punks, they have a DIY gusty attitude but still search for a manager and a major label to accept them.

I think that the ‘majors’ of EdFringe are pretty obvious, not only do they rules the advertising and the reviews, but geographically they control space.  I found my place on the Fringe of the Fringe, in a small venue called the Stafford Centre the ‘other side’ of town.  The staff were lovely, the venue was just right and the audiences that came were there because they wanted to see a scrawny punk make jokes about Star Wars for 50 minutes.

I could not have gone to the Fringe if not for the DIYness of the PBH Free Fringe.  I don’t think I would have wanted to.  I don’t really want to play stadium gigs.  I’m not of the metal school that says louder the better, bigger the better, badder the better.

I’m a punk, admittedly a nerd punk.  For me, scale doesn’t matter, but attitude & intention does.

I do want to look myself in the mirror.  Sometimes that’s hard.  But the lovely audiences, lovely guests I had, lovely staff at the Stafford Centre, the folks who hang at Forest Café, lovely PBH poets, lovely bar staff at the Banshee Lab and lovely random folks on the Mile also flyering who stopped for a natter were a huge amount of reinforcement.

Love you all x

(oh and if you’re the person who snapped a photo of the human pyramid at my last show, please please please send it along henrythepoet@btinternet.com)

Up The Nerd Punks @ EdFringe 2015

Henry Raby is a punk. He likes pogoing, picketlines patches and protests.

He’s also a nerd who loves comics, critical hits, cartoons and Charmanders.

Join him dissect friendship, growing up, anarchism, feminism & dinosaurs.

Think a wand-wielding Joe Strummer battling a Tory-voting Darth Vader.

With The Avengers smashing the box office and everyone in the world now owning an Adventure Time t-shirt, does that mean geekiness is now mainstream?

Is punk deader than Ned Stark*? Where are the underground scenes redefining punk rock?

How can we destroy the sexism & bigotry of #GamerGate like blowing up a Death Star*?

So grab your cosplay costume and celebrate an underground culture for introverts, outsiders, the nerds and punks.

Henry is a performance poet from York who has toured the UK, performed at Boomtown Fair, Latitude Festival and various front rooms.

www.henryraby.com

www.facebook.com/henryrabypoetry

@HenryRabyPoetry

“He smashes it every time I see him”- Mark Grist.

#upthenerdpunks

*spoiler alert


Free non-ticketed. Money donations towards Game of Thrones merchandise appreciated.

18.15-19.15 Stafford Centre venue 175 103 Broughton Street, EH1 3RZ

It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this! Special guests!

Sunday 23rd: AJ MCKENNA: Queer trans woman smashing the patriarchy, one poem at a time

Monday 24th: Stu Freestone - Spoken Word Poet. Effervescently loveable poet. Shortlisted for 'Best Spoken Word Performer' 2015.

Tuesday 25th: ROB AUTON (of The Rob Auton Enthusiasts Club fame): Shambolic man-ragamuffin putting nonsensical words into sensible ears.

Wednesday 26th: Suky Goodfellow & Heckler Hand: Feminist wizard of words. Upbeat and Unicorn-esque.

Thursday 27th: ROSE CONDO: Canadian prairie girl turned slam-winning superstar spoken word.

Friday 28th: Turtle Lamone: Alternative piano pop-punk playing happysad tunes for your delight/tears.

Saturday 29th: SUPER SECRET SPECIAL GUEST. What? How? Who?

Sunday 30th: Dominic Berry's Poetry Stuff: Ever-energetic performance poet leaping around higher than a high-five

18.15-19.15 Stafford Centre venue 175 103 Broughton Street, EH1 3RZ

Free & non-ticketed. Donations towards Game of Thrones merchandise appreciated.

20.15 Blog #8: Ambition (or: Lex Luthor is Bad)

In another decade, a younger Henry wanted to be a famous writer.  The kind of writer they write about.  The kind of writer that gets studied.  The kind of writer that gets studied in their lifetime.

At some point, I lost that life goal.  I wonder whether it was because I lost self-confidence in myself, and asked:  “What makes me so special that people would want to study me?”  Sometimes I ask why people would want to bother listening to me at all.

But you’re here reading this blog, so you’re at least interested in reading what I have to ramble.

A lot of poets have built their careers on viral videos.  There’s a lot of hardwork goes into the construction and promotion of a poem that can go viral, and I’m not knocking those poets.  They’re reaching larger audiences and we’re riding those coattails.

But if all poets were able to go viral, we’d infect the world.  But we’re not going to go viral.  The very nature of a viral video is it exists in a sea of videos which do not get the same attention.  Bucking the trend and beating the competition makes the video noticed.  But (from where I'm sitting at least) they can make a career.

Ambition is the little cousin of Hope.  Left in Pandora’s Box, Hope is both the sin and the virtue.  Hope is a negative and a positive.  A trap and a freedom.

Ambition in our western society has two faces.  Climbing the corporate ladder to fame, riches and famous riches is seen as A Good Thing.  Within the arts, students are told making good work is seen as A Good Thing too (and so it is), but it doesn’t hurt if you’re on a nice salary or get healthy ticket sales from that work.  Even a decent job in a building.  Stream of funding.  Interview in The Stage/Guardian. Congratulations.  Us theatre-makers sell these dreams to ourselves.

But with the stroke of the same hand that pats your back, ambition can be seen as self-serving and self-gratifying.  The working class are sold the lie that we must be “happy with what you’ve got.”  The church has done this job for centuries with the Pie In The Sky lie.  The humbleness song is somehow in a positive key and should make us grateful for simple wages, simple benefits and a simple life.

Aspiration is another cousin to hope.  Aspiration is like ambition, but I see it as to elevate oneself beyond the situation you exist within.  Aspiration is about rising, ambition is about gaining.  The working class are told they should aspire, because the ruling classes have made the working class situation so unenviable

We live in such a vertical world, that it is impossible to be ambitious without clutching at the feet above you and stamping on the fingers below on this imposing ladder.  The competitive culture encourages self-serving attitudes.  Not only this, but an ‘eye on the prize’ perception means you lose sight of where you are (see Yoda’s wisdom for more information:  "This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away... to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Heh. Excitement. Heh. A Jedi craves not these things. You are reckless").

But I said ambition is a double-edged blade.  There are positive qualities.  There is a better world worth fighting for (see Sam Gamgee).  We should want will demand better.  Anarchism is about valuing yourself and defending your rights and as individual to never be a slave, but not as the cost at making slaves of others.  Lex Luthor (see Superman) has ambitions to become the biggest businessman in the world, the biggest power on the planet, the President of the United States.  Heck, he even tries to dominate all space, time and reality a few times.  But at the cost of controlling and ruling over others.  Ambition should be horizontal, am ambition to support yourself and others.  Ruthlessness is born from Luthor's vile ambition.

Love is born from another kind of ambition.  Ambition to better yourself the world.  To save it, to secure it, to make it more FUN.  If ruthelessness is born from negative ambition, then we should nurture the purposeful love that can emerge from positive ambition.

This world is so broken, so many flaws, so many systems that control, grind, kill.  But we can make a better world, every fight we lose, every fight we undertake, every fight we win is going towards a better world.  We are told this is the state of the world.  The Tories won a ‘democratic’ election.  Deal with it.  Find a job.  Wash your hair.  They say.

I want to build an inclusive and high-quality poetry and punk scene.  I want to challenge myself and make stronger work.  I want to tour, meet new people, make new friends, see and work with new artists.  I want to inspire someone that will inspire someone else.  These are my ambitions.

Be ambitious in valuing yourself.  Be ambitious to do what you want, however you want as long as it doesn’t harm someone else.  You are wonderful, but that wonder doesn’t detract from the wonder of your neighbour.

Be ambitious.  Demand the impossible.

Another world is waiting xxx 

20.15 Blog #7: Adapt To Survive

It’s been a while since I set my phone off spinning round and round until 20 mins and 15 seconds are up.  But it’s been a busy few weeks.  I’ve co-ordinated an event for Selby’s Little Fest of theatre, music and arts in the incredible Abbey featuring local groups.  I’ve been doing some R&D with my friend Maddy Shann on a piece we might develop in the future.  And I’ve been busy turning my acoustic side project, Pewter City Punk, into a full band!

But we must forge ahead with the project for the year.  Namely, to write a blog post in 20 mins and 15 seconds.  We’re off!

This blog is about adaptations.  Over the past year, I have adapted A Midsummer Night’s Dream for Harrogate Theatre to be used for a range of ages roughly 6-11 in Youth Theatre and school’s outreach projects.  I have also adapted the classic tale of The Circle of Chalk (as retold by Brecht) for York Youth Theatre’s 16+ group which was performed at the end of last year.  Now I’ve sent off my final draft to Harrogate Theatre, an adaptation of the classic Robin Hood tale.

Adaptations can be incredible retelling of stories.  I saw a stream of the NTs Treasure Island written by Bryony Lavery.  I thought it was a really gripping action adventure.  Maybe a tad gory for the target audience it intended, but still a visceral retelling that gripped me.  Some adaptations get the story to a wider audience, Tom Morris and Emma Rice’s Night’s At The Circus for Kneehigh was the first time I’ve experienced Angela Carter, now one of my fav writers.   Mike Kenny’s adaptations for York Theatre Royal, Tutti Frutti or Hiccup Theatre are always rich with a joyous insight into the original.

Adaptations have to be both faithful and fresh.  Just as film is not theatre, theatre is not a book.  Theatre is a live experience condensed into a relatively small pocket of time.  But it must also be faithful, else why not repackage the story as something entirely new?

From an artistic perspective, there’s the pull between the context of the original text, and trying to find the ‘hook’ for the modern day.  Shakespeare is often easy, as a humanist his plays often have recognisable characters falling in love, being ambitious or being trapped. 

Whenever I’m playing with an original idea, I like to jot down over a few days all my thoughts with purely the context I bring to the paper.  Circle of Chalk is swished around my memory of seeing it previously at the West Yorkshire Playhouse.  All my initial ideas of Brecht ideas.  A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I rifled through my memory for all those key moments that stand out without a re-reading of the play.

Then I take time to dive deeper, read around the story.  Read the liner notes, read up online, take out some books, try and really sink deep and see if there’s an interpretation I’ve missed.

By putting these two contrasting styles alongside each other, you start to find your own voice between the lines.  For Who Shot The Sherriff, my mind flashed Marian as being a tough fighter, not unlike the TV show from my childhood.  Of course, upon doing my research and reading other books I realised how she’s traditionally portrayed as being an aristocratic woman.  So my version had her being forced to learn the rules of civilised society despite her best interests.  I knew there needed to be a fight scene, but only after re-watching the classic Errol Fyn sword-fights did I realised how this can be scripted, and kinda parodied.

My version of Robin Hood and his Merry Men are more merry kids.  They are still teenagers, played by members of Harrogate Theatre Youth Theatre.  To that end, they have the energy and bravery of young people. They are told they are dirty, rude and intolerable.  They get told off, caught and are fought.

If my Robin Hood and his merry men were, in fact, merry men I think it would be tonally darker.  It wouldn’t be a cruel angst-driven piece, but more would be at stake.  Breaking laws would have more severe consequences.  Who Shot The Sherriff is a bit farcical, a bit slapstick, a bit manic.  There’s the threat of death hinted, but it’s more for a summer show of swords and swordplay.  I felt this came out from the characters being so young and vim-filled.

However, that’s not the say the play is a watered-down Panto.  From the 21^st century lens, why are these kids keen to become knights or outlaws?  Who are their role-models?  Why can the Sherriff bully them around?  These thoughts bounced around my skull like an arrow flying off the walls.

So I realised (partly though a spot of Prince of Thieves viewing) that the adults had gone off East to fight the crusades, not unlike our day and age where soldiers are sent abroad in government’s wars.  This left a power vacuum for men like the Sherriff to take power, and young boys and girls eager to fill their shoes.

I’m not saying it’s the most political piece I’ve written, certainly not compared to The Circle of Chalk which has a lot of my perceptions on nationality, nation and borders.  But I think they exploring various perceptions on an original text, while keeping the energy of a traditional action-adventure can take a different turn when not throwing it into the deep waters of 2015, but letting it paddle around in a few different ponds of possibility.

Or something.

Catch Who Shot The Sherriff at Harrogate’s main stage this summer, tickets here

20.15 Blog #6: Delayed Reaction to the election

A 20.15 blog (written in 20 mins 15 seconds)

Yeah. We get it.  The Tories won.  So put your anger back in the box for 2020, Henry.

Well, I feel like I never got a chance to vent.  Because over the last month you might have noticed a lack of blogging.  That’s because I’ve been mega busy.  Like, I’m always busy.  But the meganess makes it even more busy-ised.

What’s been occurring?  Well I bought a car so I can zip to gigs, festivals and workshops quicker.  That feels a big deal.

I finished my 2^nd draft of Who Shot The Sherriff, my play for Harrogate Theatre, a summer family show about Robin Hood as a kid.  It should be a good madcap comedy and I’m happy with the result, a few more tweaks and it’ll be ready for rehearsals.  I’m going to write a proper blog about it later, but for now.  It’s there, the arrow is notched up, the aim is true.

I’ve also been working on a community project for The On Our Turf Project.  I am the Community Artist and my role was to put together an evening of entertainment for the people of Selby, inspired by their stories, the town’s history and it’s character.  We had various groups come and perform, a nice sizeable audience and lots of smiling faces.  So that was a positive buzz.

But Thursday night wasn’t, and nether was Friday morning when, after 18 years, the Tories got a majority government.  I went through a whole series of emotions that night and morning, as I did think Miliband might have turned it around.  But he proved a damp dishcloth of a banner-bearer when it came to the crunch, and we’re stuck with a Tory cabinet unbound by Lib Dem liberalisms.

The Stage article by says it best, but I want to say I found myself falling into the trap of preaching to the converted.  Well, not quite.  In the past year I got into challenging the problem and problematic culture within punk, nerd and the left.  Trying to wrestle with my own privilege, my own preconceptions and attitudes.  My poems have been trying to remove or play with gender.  I have been putting on gigs as both Say Owt Slam with Stu Freestone and Who Killed Moose? with Nick Smith where we really take time to consider the acts we book.  I’ve also been playing my guitar.  WOT?

But certainly I have not been performing to an audience of Tories and trying to explain why their votes have doomed many to death.  I have not been gigging to Liberal Democrats who cling to the idea their party’s fence sitting  does more harm than good.  I have not been gigging to UKIP voters, who buy into the sickening lies of fascists in suits.

It I want to change that.  I want to use my platform as an artist to try and perform more to different crowds.  I’m not a theatre company, I’m a poet who just needs a voice and just needs to turn up to open mics and events.  I won’t water down my opinions, I don’t hide my politics and I won’t compromise my performance style.  But is there any point being the punk who plays to punk crowds saying the same old rhetoric everyone in the room agrees with?  I want to challenge those audiences, and hope I do, but time to challenge those who need to see.

This inevitably involves me being staunch in my views.  I do need to change views.  I do need lines in the sand.  I do need to acknowledge some people are wrong.  Not evil, but still their perceptions on the economy, on race, on business, on immigration, on arts, on homelessness…on all sorts of issues leads to regulation, law, control and cuts, torture, deportations, death.

That’s how I’m feeling at the moment.  An immense sense of duty, of certainty and, sure, call it righteousness.  But I want to channel that not just into demonstrations (but trust me, there’ll be plenty of that).  But also writing new work, accessible but sharp, dangerous and defiant but truth-telling.  And I will do my best to keep fighting.

Because another world is possible, so another way of thinking and fighting is always, and should always, be possible.