4. W.I.H.E. Festival: Re-Member - Invitation 2020

You have been chosen to Re - Member

Dear desperate and shaken participant of the annual WIHE Literary Festival:


After the last three successful Literary Festivals with infamous themes as: 

Why I Hate England, Why I  ate  England and Dis- Member.

After no discussion of other themes such as ‚Who Would Have Thought‘ and ‚Say What and Why‘, the chosen theme for this, our Fourth Festival is:


RE - MEMBER


Hence, you have been selected to write a 1 to 3 page essay expounding on this theme.

The reading or singing of the texts will occur after sundown, 

on Saturday 29. August.

At the: Stable Cottage Nottingham Manor

Plumpton, Sussex, England

Great (soon to be Little) Britain 


Before reading or singing your essay, all will participate in an evening meal which means that everyone brings nutrients to share with others.  This will start before sundown, say about three-issh in the afternoon on the 29th.  


Prerequisites for Participation and Publication:

You must write it.

You must read  or sing it.

You must send it to me per email within 48 hours after the event (I have grown more lenient since March 2020).

no photos or videos


Your essays will be collected and printed into a pamphlet. Each artist who has fulfilled the four requirements above will receive a copy for their effort.

As usual, at midnight, we will burn our Ook Talisman alive on the raging bonfire while chanting its name in a communal act of cleansing.


Greetings from wherever we are,

Theodor and Carol

Congregators of Particular People










Kommentare

Kommentar veröffentlichen

Beliebte Posts aus diesem Blog

4. W.I.H.E. Festival: Re-Member - Caroline Testa - Plumpton, England

Bild
I remember dreaming that Carol and I were in my mothers garden. There was a mighty storm and we were watching massive trees all around us falling. We would make exasperated/disappointed noises whenever one fell - as if saying ‘oh no, there’s another one gone’. We had to dodge them and aim to find a place in the garden where we wouldn’t be hit if a tree fell. At one point å ‘thought’ that a particular tree, a skinny pine like the ones near Lilac Cottage) would fall and just as I thought it - it fell.  Two: a dream I’ll never forget. I was standing on a shore with Juliet and Cherry, two prolific women in my life, both academics. We were looking out at two pillars in the ocean. Atop them were two males peacocks tied down with heavy chains. We swam out to them, the three women that we were, and they helped me to untie the peacocks so they could escape upwards into the sky. The Game.  It’s a shortened group ‘essay’, written in the ‘heat’ of the festival moment:  Title:...
Mehr anzeigen

1. W.I.H.E. Festival - Theodor di Ricco - Berlin, Germany

Bild
  Carol Downie Nottingham Manor Plumpton, Little England Is this what I will write on my future letters to Carol? Don’t get me wrong, I love England BUT ... How many times have I heard this?  Usually England is replaced by the  USA.  So what do they have in common?  Being related, as England is the mother of the beast, they are both sorry for what they have done and have a funny way of accepting their responsibility to clean up the mess they caused.  I do not understand the English and I feel that they do not want to be understood. As well as, there are a lot of things that bother me about England with which the English can not be bothered.  Why is it so necessary to be so different? Different time, money, electrical sockets, road traffic, measurements. I thought a goal in life is to make it easier.  Where do we begin? Since the Eighties analysts have been predicting China’s rise to a world power in the 21st Century.  It is not...
Mehr anzeigen

4. W.I.H.E. Festival: Re-Member - Juliet Millican - Brighton, England

Bild
  Home   Home is The crook in your shoulder, under your right arm, where I lay my head when sleep doesn’t come. The bath, where I am on those evenings when you get in later than me,  And come through to catch up on the day.   The short, striped curtains that I draw in the morning, sleepy on the Hymer’s soft shelf, To reveal some new landscape, our next adventure from the safety of our bed on wheels.   The car, waiting at the airport pick up spot, when I come back after too long a flight and too many days away. And then the lurch to the left it makes as it comes up the pot holed road To the house, changed by new plant growth that has sprung up since I was here.   And the house, our house, built by our own hands, to grow our own family in,  from which to send them out, one by one, into the world. And welcome them back in when that world gets too tough.   Home, its struggles and its triu...
Mehr anzeigen