There was a time when we came here every year, to sing songs amongst the trees, and tell tales beneath the stars to fill the sky with a bonfire built from laughter and love and joy and wonder.
But that was years ago now.
Back when life was a gathering glory of boundless potential. Back when simplistic sadness felt profound and broken hearts were plot points and death was just a narrative device. Back when a night’s sleep could stretch out beyond noon and eating crispy shredded beef after midnight had minimal digestive repercussions the following day. Back before births and deaths and distance and doubt. Before beliefs buckled and hope came to feel facile and pyjamas started to almost always smell at least a little bit of piss.
And yet.
Here we are again.
In the middle of the night in the middle of the summer.
Under the sky.
In a park.
Rummaging in the rubble for something to burn, a forgotten fragment of anything flammable, searching for something to set alight and hold aloft and to fling it, together, once again, out and up into the deepening dark.
Show will include: Sad songs, funny stories, indefensible declarations, crosstalk, technical difficulties, sad stories, moths, funny songs, quite possibly a chant and at least two, standard lamps.
