Click here for The Sense of Memory Project Publication by
Stop all the clocks. Stamp out the rush of time, which obliterates old memories and false hopes. Stand in silence for an hour and listen with open ears and an open heart. Do not heed the fictions offered by the…
NARRATOR: If I may? I know this story well. SFX SEA SOUNDS AND WIND. NARRATOR TELLS THE STORY IN THE STYLE OF A RECITATION It is December the 6th, 1940, off the coast of Donegal. The Steam Ship Stolwijk…
Owl hoots… I haven’t heard them in a long time. Where I grew up there were two old elms. They were just stumps after the ravages of Dutch elm disease, but being hollow and tall, the owls used to nest…
I am a dripped trail of bitumen, defining the scored ground between Tyrone’s potholes and their Donegal cousins. I am a stream, clogged with black silage-wrap, dead sheep and discarded Coca-Cola bottles. I am the hunched hoodie in the Diesel…
I did a thread a while ago, but it probably got lost in the Twittersphere, so I thought I should and could do something a little more reasoned and readable. Goethe apparently said, “Divide and rule, the politician cries; unite…
In the course of the research for the Dementia project I am undertaking, I wanted to find a map of Derry’s shirt factories. There are a few out of date and blurred images around but I needed a large, printable map…
I’m enraptured and gleeful to be funded by the Arts Council for another year of theatre making in the communities of the North West. This year, I’ll be working with the people of Arranmore, looking to create a community play…