#528: White Light
… honestly more orange, but it’s the metaphor that counts …
I ask the Youngest how they rate my outfit before I leave for the Gig. They tell me the v-neck purple t-shirt makes me look as if I work in an Assisted Care Home, and they’re right, but it’s too late to change now. The words will do the work. They always do. The church is a genuine surprise and takes £425 a day to keep running. Once upon a time churches were the ones with all the money.
I meet Mother Cherry, whose intelligence and wisdom is considerable. I ask her why this window has no stained-glass, and she tells me to wait until the sun begins to set. Whoever built the extension to the church after World War One knew where this would send God’s light. It illuminates the entire internal space with warmth and power. Churches are enlightening venues. There’s a poem coming about this window.
The gig was the first time in years I’ve not felt alone when I performed.
I ended up going on second because Among the Nightingales was stuck in traffic. Rosie Garland will be pleased to know her advice still sticks, and I came in under time and within budget. I made a poem into audience participation which worked a treat, and I couldn’t see anyone coz I took my glasses off, and it was fucking amazing. Having a choir as the final act meant a large captive audience.
Mick Nixon is a smart ex-Punk. He curated a clever and thoughtful mix of music: I’m still amazed I was placed in that grouping, but I have Jen Feroze to thank for that… and honestly, it was a gig that will live very long in my memory. A poem that failed to place in a contest inspired one of the music acts to begin to write a new song. I have people interested in writing poetry.
Genuinely, could not ask for anything more at this point.
I’m on three hours sleep and have harnessed the power of the adrenaline hangover sufficiently to roll into exercise this morning, knowing I have space and time to crash and burn later in the day. We even sold a pamphlet yesterday, which is on the notional List of Successful Events to add to a pile that makes last night a proper high watermark.
Sometimes, things are just perfect and you are simply grateful for being there.
Well done! It sounds to have been a perfect venue and I’m glad it worked for you.