When I am still for any length of time, someone finds me and tells me about their life. My girlfriend says this makes me like a tree that all dogs want to piss up. Slow man tree.
Granddad taught me what I know about listening. And now there’s a gap in my landscape. Last year I walked 150 miles back to where my grandparents were born, to look for what I’ve lost- a homemade pilgrimage, returning to roots, slow motion time travel.
The show is something else entirely. A dance party with ghosts, in a forest, in a theatre. A hopping ritual. An invitation to drink deep: to face the shadows that growl on your insides and laugh big.
Hold on tight!
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