A blog about art and the soul
By Joy Martin
It must go further still: that soul must become its own betrayer, its own deliverer, the one activity, the mirror turn lamp. (W. B. Yeats)
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1 March 2021... This is the beginning of the novel. "There is a light ahead and a choice. I choose…her…and then there are different lights. Red, yellow, green, blue – and they’re spinning. Then I see her again, gold hair flying and face shining with sweat, in the middle of…
1 March 2021. The novel is narrated by Tom, a ghost, the ex-lover of Stella, a lighting designer for the theatre. Tom observes Stella, unable to let go of her, as she grapples with the grief of his death and the sadness of her past, amidst the high risks of…
1 March 2021... In this excerpt, Stella is the lighting designer and technician for a performance art show by her friend Benjamin Tracey, called A Beautiful Kind of Annihilation. Walter has come to see the show at an arts festival in a small London theatre... "Walter notices a ripple of movement go through…
21 December 2020. Afterwards you have these fantasies of him tracking you down and finding you. Opening your front door, and he’s standing there. And you think about what you wished you had said but didn’t before he walked away in the cold, white morning air. In your bedroom in…
16 December 2019. (Originally published in The Stage on 16 December 2019) Performance collective Figs in Wigs applies its distinctive style of joyous, high-concept whimsy to the pantomime format in a fantastically imagined and enjoyable production of The Wind in the Willows at Cambridge Junction. Written by Rachel Gammon, Suzanna Hurst, Sarah Moore,…
28 February 2019. (Originally published in American Theatre magazine on 29 January 2019 under the title 'It's Noh, It's Viewpoints - It's Superdrama'.) “It is not the object of art to make life comfortable for the fat bourgeois so that he may nod his head: ‘Yes, yes, that’s the way it is!…
31 Oct 2017. When I visited St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France, in July 2016, I didn’t know that I was visiting as a pilgrim-to-be. My tall, wild French boyfriend drove me there in his vintage Citroën Mehari. Holding hands (not able not to hold hands), we walked through the hilly, winding, cobbled streets,…
10 October 2017... It was early August 2016, a few days after I put all my worldly possessions in a storage unit at Cambridge’s Newmarket Road industrial estate and watched the Frenchman drive away in his vintage Citroen station wagon, hauling a now-empty trailer and bound for the ferry at…
6 December 2017... During my stay in Branscombe, Devon in August 2016, serendipity delivered the idea for how my life might shape up as a wandering pilgrim. I had secured a four-month house sit for the coming winter: from November to March I would be staying in a closed-for-the-winter Bn’B,…
6 March 2018. So, where was I? My home, job and relationship had vanished overnight on 5 August 2016. After placing everything I owned into storage, at first I dragged myself and my big red suitcase to Devon, where I re-discovered that I had a list of dreams inside me,…
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