Blogs and Papers

I have not been very loyal to my blogging - truth being I have been dealing with ongoing health issues since Easter which has made life tough, especially  the brain fog. So I have prioritised things and as usual, neglected me! However, I have some positive things to share: I am developing my writing and found a new genre 'flash fiction'  [ a story in 500 words and a great disciple for playwriting] and entered my first ever writing competition and came third with the Ansansi Archive.  It was a story I had developing over for years about my Granddad and the experiences he had during the First World War. He lived with us from when I was born. I don't remember that much about him, but thankful that he took me to The Walker Art Gallery, in Liverpool which was a wonderful introduction to the creative world. He died when I was 8, hence I never really got to know him, but we had his paintings and carvings which gave insight into his passions. I have  a  woman carved from a wooden propellor of a shot down German plane,  that has been a constant source of ponderings over the years and the inspiration for the story.  You can read it below and see the picture of the very damaged carving is at the top of this page.

I have also been writing and performing signed and voiced poetry about my life experiences covering subjects from deafness, impact of loss, motherhood and living with a terminal disease. I have performed them a few times now and set myself a task of creating a new work for each request, and embracing humour when I can.

One unexpected event I managed to attend was an invite to a reception at Windsor Castle celebrating the works of Shakespeare.   It was on command of their Majesties so I couldn't  really say no.  I was supported by two wonderful signers to interpret the speeches, help me with networking and the 45 minutes of performances by such wonders as Dame Harriet Walters, Sir Simon Russel Beale, Ray Fearon and Mark Quartley, to an extremely  distinguished audience from the world of theatre.  I was delighted to talk with Dame Harriet and Helena Bonham Carter, but the most surprising and joyous occasion was conversing with Dame Judi Dench.  A little back story now: once it was discovered I was actually deaf at the age of 6, I went through a number of years of speech therapy.  My experiences of deafness in the 60's and 70's was extremely negative and I was very ashamed of the way I talked, so tended to be quiet and hidden: the therapy made me feel wrong in the way I spoke.  I attended Liverpool Theatre School after my first child was born in the early '80's, hoping to focus on dance, but part of the course was to study theatre, specifically following the Guildhall Speech and Drama awards.  The teacher, Tess Headspeath was a tough cookie and most of us were quite scared of her but, once she realised I was deaf she started to help me develop my under used 'articulating organs' [ tongue, soft palate, jaw etc].  I became more confident and realised on stage we all have to speak louder,  so I was not the liability I thought I would be and loved developing as an actor. I passed the levels right up to grade 8, then failed both the final LGSM and LAMDA Acting exams.  I recently found the feedback and was dismayed to read that the reasons given were things like, 'dulled resonance to her voice' , 'weak tongue tip' 'what is that with her voice' etc.  things I was working hard to strengthen, but things I couldn't  help. During my work in Disability & Deaf arts it has been a joy to see how things have changed and I have been to performances where deaf  voices are loud and proud, performers such as Sophie Stone, Sophie Woolley, Deepa Shatri, Stephen Collins,. I have been in awe at how they convey meaning with their voice, sign or both and with such beauty.  Then it happened......as I was talking to the DAME about sign language and how things have moved on in the theatre, we agreed such things were no longer a barrier; I had one of those unexpected  life affirming moments that just blew me away - Dame Judi said to me after relating my experiences with said acting bodies, "you have a beautiful voice!" 

I am still floating on air and thankful that such people are in our lives and keen to make sure I can make it my life's work to continue to edify and encourage others.

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Woman of Virtue - Ruth Fabby

I want you to have this. It was made long ago, well before you were born.

It is a sculpting of a Woman of Virtue. She was carved from a place of deep anguish, at a time I wanted to die. I experienced unimaginable horrors, but finally came to believe in the power of prevailing love that continues from parent to child, grandparent to grandchild, passed through the generations to come. 

My task was to gun down the Gothas and Giants throwing their packages of death into the streets of London. Too many got passed and even those whose aim was indeterminate, dropped into homes, factories and shipyards causing destruction and mayhem. The danger was not just the enemies’ bombs, as even our own ammunition chanced to explode before they could be fed into the gullet of the howitzer.

I did my job: prepared, loaded, took aim, and fired. 

Through the relentless offensives, my ears hurt, my arms ached, and my chest reverberated with the hefty machine thuds. 

At dawn, exhausted I would fall zombie-like into my bunker, beg for sleep, praying this nightmare would end. 

One evening returning to the gunning post, I passed a rubble heap collected by the fire-crews clearing what they could off the streets. My boot met what I thought was a piece of stone. It intrigued me as it jutted out at an odd angle that did not make sense amidst the debris.  I reached down, pulled it out and discovered a charred fragment of shot down German propellor, no bigger than a billy can. I scrapped away the remains of wood coal and found it was smooth to touch and comforting. I sniffed it, wiped it against my cheek and my mind unfurled to an image of a green coppice far away.  

I thought of its original tree, majestic and strong. I realised that it nurtured not only itself, but also was a haven of life. Within its branches and under its canopy it sustained an ecosystem of fungi, insects, birds, and their tiny offspring repeatedly returning year on year knowing this tree was safe and secure. 

As I held it, I had a glimpse of my future and all it could possibly sustain. I pocketed it and hurried to my station. 

Whilst waiting for the sirens cue beginning the nights defensives, I began to carve. Intentionally I repurposed its use from a weapon of destruction into an object of beauty. 

As I did so, a face emerged, a young woman, joyous and gracious. Your face.

By seeing you, the urge to survive overwhelmed me. I choose to live and love, to create and recreate, to feel all the beauty of life from within and without. And God willing, to grow old. 

That night, I carved this Woman of Virtue, for you, two generations away. I wanted you to have the precious gift of life. 

Take it my darling, and know what hope is, as all those years ago, you gave it to me.