Hey, Barbecutie

Posts Tagged ‘london

Our friends at wordPLAY have done it again. As part of the Poetry Parnassus, a week of international rhyming goodness, wordPLAY will be hosting 7 of the most exciting and unique poets and spoken word artists from the Pacific islands (all 10,000 of them). The diverse line-up features artists from the Cook Islands, Guam, Kiribati, the Marshall Islands, New Zealand, Samoa and Tonga and I shall be giddly swinging my legs in the audience to hear them all.

The magnificent featured performers are:

Tusiata Avia

Audrey Brown-Pereira

Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner

Selina Tusitala Marsh

Karlo Mila

Craig Santos Perez

Teresia Teaiwa

wordPLAY London presents Pacifica
White Room, Southbank Centre
London
Thurs 28th June, 7pm
Hosted by Ms wordPLAY
Free Entry

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If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose?
The great auk, like the one I just knitted for Ghosts Of Gone Birds, in aid of BirdLife International’s preventing extinctions programme.
– Margaret Atwood, Guardian Q&A, 29th October 2011

Despite my unofficial retirement from the world of spoken word, I have been coaxed from my sleepy cove of lethargy to participate in a really exciting event. The glorious, unkillable wordPLAY has risen like a phoenix from the flames to present a literary evening in association with the ‘Ghosts of Gone Birds’ initiative to raise funds and awareness for bird conservation causes worldwide, in conjunction with RSPB and BirdLife.

The central event is an exhibition of artwork at The Rochelle School Arts Centre in Shoreditch supplied by visual artists writers ranging from Margaret Atwood (who is honorary president of BirdLife and has crocheted a Great Auk to exhibit), Ralph Steadman, Jessica Albarn (sister Damon), Jamie Hewlett (the artist behind ‘Gorillaz’) and many more…

Doves and British Sea Power are also involved and will be staging a music night as part of the project.

I am giddy to be involved and have been beavering away at a pair of dystopian nightmares to read aloud in my funny accent for your aural pleasure (the nightmare is that they’re not finished yet). Do come on down to Shoreditch, where the beautiful people live, and do your part to save our feathered friends…

***

wordPLAY London and Ghosts of Gone Birds Present:
A Flock Of Poets
Thursday 17th November, 7.30pm

featuring
Anna Mae Selby
Liz Adams
Sarah Day
Bronagh Fegan
Nia Davies
and more

Performing works from their existing collections PLUS new works inspired by pieces in the ongoing Ghost of Gone Birds exhibition

£3 on the door
(with profits going to conservation charities such as RSPB and Bird Life)


The best part is Beau Brummell at the side there

Good night looters, and commuters,
and watchful nerds on your computers,
soon the embers start to fade
on your rambunctious cavalcade.
The crow bar man with balaclava,
the officer faced with the palaver,
Count you softly each cracked head
as you drift sweetly to your bed.
Think us all what we have proved,
how this has solved each fraying feud.
The sun is forced down by the night
but still this town will stay alight.


image by Reena Makwana

This weekend sees the International Alternative Press Festival 2011 at Conway Hall, 25 Red Lion Square, WC1R 4RL, London Town, and Nest Gallery will be selling a number of zines and artworks tomorrow, Sunday 29th May, 10am-4pm.

I am very excited to be taking part with a sequel to my last zine (Wonderful Creatures And How To Kill Them) entitled More Amazing Creatures And Further Ways To Kill Them. The eagle-eyed amongst you will note that I forgot the name of my own zine when making the follow-up. Find out new ways to ensure the permanant annihilation of such critters as the Daddy Long Legs, the Hippopotamus and the Urban Fox. Get them before they get you.

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE

The Nest table will also feature the beauteous work of some incredibly talented artists such as Anna Lincoln, Emily and Anne, Siobhan O’Brien, Rebecca Strickson, Bella Szyszkowska, Alice Marwick, Emily Howells and Reena Makwana.

Nest is an all-female collective of exciting artists (and the odd munchkin such as myself) and always has something unique and beautiful to share, so be a mensch and get yourselves down to see Nest and all the other exciting artists.

Today is Tuesday, when our beloved wordPLAY returns to the whiskey-soaked wonderment of the Good Ship for more wordsmithery, creation, larks and literary spectacle. Doors open at 7pm, show starts at 8pm, it’s £3 in and all proceeds go to Cancer Research UK. And the line-up is mind-bogglingly amazing. We worked very hard on it, and it has been really wonderful getting the opportunity to help organise another event. It would be really, really lovely to see you all there if possible. And afterwards I’ll lead you, Pied Piper-style, to the best chip shop in London.

Two bits of excellent news:
Firstly, the wonderful team at Storm In A Teacup have released issue 2 of their titular zine, once again featuring alternative female artists and writers dealing with female-positive topics and creating delightful things. I am extremely pleased to say that I have a story featured amongst the illustrious company, and even moreso that Bex Massey has created an illustration to accompany my piece. One of the most wonderful things is to have done something that inspires another person to make art, so I’m very excited and humbled. The zine also has a cocktail recipe, so you know you want to get some of that. It’s available from all good zine fairs and by e-mailing storminateacupzine@gmail.com. Big thanks to Elizabeth Martin.

Secondly, wordPLAY is making its triumphant return to the Good Ship in Kilburn on 15th March in aid of Cancer Research UK. We have pulled together a splendiferous array of writers and performers to say words at you until your head explodes with joy and also hydrogen. It’s a line-up so deliriously awesometacular that we aren’t even having music this time around. And it’s hosted by me, and you know how you love to hear me say things in that silly accent of mine, as well as the much more capable and coherent Nancy Clarik with moral support and gentle guidence of the beauteous Becca. So do come and support our charity, and you will be rewarded with an evening of unequable literary lyricism from a group of massively talented peoples:

Booker-longlisted, pioneer of the New Puritans, and thoroughly excellent fellow MATT THORNE

Wickedly wonderful poetry from Carol Ohemaa

and our spectactular guest stars
Liz Adams

Sam Buchan-Watts

Sophie Buchan

Jack Kelly

Leslie Tetteh

then don’t forget to poke me in the face and tell me you love me for letting you know all about the art that’s running wild in the world.

I’m supposed to be flying home for Christmas tomorrow, but it’s looking about as likely as my being mangled by a hopped-up tapir before night’s end. The snow is, from my vantage point, six stories above North London, astonishingly beautiful. Rooftops whitewashed and unblemished, brick moorings beneath, like Christmas cards sent by your unimaginative relatives. On the ground level, as I ventured out earlier, it’s pretty rank. I live on the mainest of main roads, and the ground is slick with grey-brown mush that filters through your soles and makes your toesies drop off. It’s hard to have one without the other.

So the country in which I lay my wee head to sleep tomorrow is still up for grabs. I mean, it’s either going to be England or Ireland, unless something goes significantly wrong mid-journey. I should really be packing now, but there are things that appeal more, like watching a documentary on folk music on iplayer or pondering over ordering pizza (the latter, probably not, it’s a bit of a kerfuffle, the former, ONGOING).

My Pantoum challenge from the last entry is going surprisingly well, but I want more. Pantoum me up like wow. I’m not a critic, I’m not going to yell at you. Alternatively, give me a story to write, and I’ll do it. I’ll do it good. Write a fine ass story. With quite poor grammar.

Will someone buy me Cold Comfort Farm? I owned it years ago but never got round to reading it. Ahh, go on. I’ll make you food in January in return. You don’t even have to eat it.

I’m cold.*

* Physically and emotionally**.

** No, just kidding, I’m lovely.