Speaking out

Catapulted by words

A quest for literary freedom

‘Why can’t I just call the character in the piece I am trying to write Connor, because it’s about me and it's my story? LIGHT BULB!’

I point my art at what I see that looks wrong and hurts to see.

Considering, preparing, writing, revising, editing.

The physical body of colour in a world built of whiteness that is oblivious to itself

In the presence of a wealth of talented people

Half the story has never been told

A warning for the future, a gong to awaken the sleeping conscience

A pendulum swinging between confidence and anxiety.

Keeping the vision in focus

Being a carer, and how it felt to become invisible, worthless, disenfranchised.