“Sometimes it is fluid or vaporous, leaking into different parts of me, dripping into my thoughts and speech. Trying to seep its way into a sentence, a confession, out into the world. But I taste it, bitter, shut my mouth and swallow it back.

It is my truth.”

Extract from Letters To Myself

“This town is full of these contradictions and parallel worlds. A beautiful sandy beach and seductive sea lapping a sound scape to run down buildings and the brick carcasses of former glory. Patches of old tiled floors are exposed to passers-by as a lone CCTV camera keeps watch over emptiness.”

Extract from Inertia

“We share stories, trade shoulders to cry on, listening ears and sage advice, swap dark times for light, reserve friendships, stored on shelves to come back for another time.  We grow older together; collect memories in jars labelled; love, loss, laughter and grief.”

Extract of a poem written for Made in Corby’s Living Legends: Hidden Histories

“I imagined all the things I would tell her.  Everything I could learn and then repeat to her, seeing her excited eyes and waving limbs as she became animated; tugging at me to tell her more, tell her again, take her to see.  The knowledge that I would never be able to, made the ground shift below my feet, the sadness and grief rushing forward, drowning me in their combined weight right then and there.”

Extract from Grief and Peace, written during my residency at Beamish Museum

“This is NOT my country
Who make decisions based on fear,
and separation, segregation;
through hate and ignorance
divide the nation.
Not in my name.

Who ignore the faces, races, other
Are they not still your brother?
Sister? Mother? Child?
Do they not breath the same air?
Have the same soil beneath their feet?
Does your heart, their heart, not beat?”

Extract of poem ‘My Country’