Tuesday, 12 October 2010
With the poetry, narrative and photography as our palette, the group worked with Daniel Stapylton to record sound that would become our voice over. Daniel brought his mobile studio to the sessions in order to capture some crisp, high quality audio spoken by the group.
Friday, 17 September 2010
After spending a day with the group and studying their work on the BLOG Dani put her mind to capturing their stories with words. The themes were talent, individuality and the stigma of mental illness. Here are three poems which she has written inspired by their lives, experiences and their work on this project.
Look at him.
He sings in the street like the world is his stage and
his life is an opera. Arms outstretched, head held high,
Pavarotti of the pedestrians.
It’s summertime and the living is easy.
Does he notice them laughing and shaking their heads?
Does her hear their cruel whispers? She does.
She clings to him, guiding him forward.
He turns to her. Have I told you lately that I love you?
They walk together through the ruins,
peering into rooms they cannot reach.
Touchstones crumble as they reminisce
in this, the house of the cosmic joker
who changed the rules and left him with
a thousand books he cannot read,
a million words he cannot write.
He paints instead, the colours of his mind,
the memories left behind,
and shouts across the vast North Sea,
look at me.
Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman.
She sings the song as she scatters the flour
and traces the name her family gave her.
Words in white dust,
She kneads this therapy.
She bakes, and takes her gifts
to those who understand,
her group, her new-found family.
It’s here she laughs, and shares her stories
paints the pain away.
But when the door and curtains close,
she’s locked with loneliness inside,
abandoned with her memories.
She passes time with poetry
and picnics knitted just for bears.
She turns her music up and sings,
sometimes it’s hard to be a woman.
If all the world's a stage,
she'd rather stay behind the scenes.
She'd paint the sky with birds
and prompt the actors with
the words she dare not speak.
She'd rather watch from velvet seats
with chocolate treats,
all cosy in the dark,
invisible to eyes too blinded by the lights.
And at the end, the final act,
she'd hurry back to friends,
and tell them of the drama, romance, songs,
somewhere that's safe, and she belongs.
Thursday, 16 September 2010
Here are some words and poems created by the group
When I'm feeling really down
I bake some cakes, pass them around
When my anger comes to the fore
I'll knead the dough til my arms are sore
I hate to feel the way I do
the feeling low, the feeling blue
But as I bake or knead the dough
I feel the tension start to go
The finished cakes look good to eat
But the kitchens not looking neat
I'll bake and bake to relieve the stress
But oh my god the kitchen's a mess
Do young children these days know good food
The rubbish they eat will do them no good
They throw the wrappers on the floor
Nobody seems to care anymore
The only thing that can be said
Is the pigeons of Stockton are well fed
This is my life
Look at me
Maybe life is a stage
And I'm its biggest performer
All the worlds a stage
Just some don't use it
I like to talk to the fella upstairs
When life is good
And when life is hard
Sometimes I ask why, why we?
I just like to make sure he still recognises me
The cosmic joker
They stop and stare
Look and glare
They make their judgements
Without a care
They don't know me
Or who I am
Their words are harmful