Dream

I'm sitting at a desk in the large bay window of the master bedroom of the flat where I'm staying during the Edinburgh Fringe. I feel like a proper artist. I'd like to be performing more now. But instead today I'll be volunteering at the Forest Fringe and see some friends from Bristol's shows this evening.

The Lastmaker: Photo by Goat Island

What happens when you spend three consecutive nights in the company of a group like Goat Island, for the first two watching their last show and on the last attending their goodbye from which you must say goodbye for a time to make a call to say goodbye for a long time only to return to find that someone is saying goodbye from the stage to some who is dead and this fits so painfully perfectly that your heart aches, is shot through, then sings and you cry?