Kezzabelle’s Spring Blog

Another gut instinct/God instinct ‘yes’ took me south west at the end of March ’19 to headline at Lines of The Mind, Bristol. There were some diverse and awesome acts in the pub basement at the Ropewalk it had a good feel to it. I had some great feedback, sold my books, met poets, pirates, punks, comics and surfers with a mix of conversations from deep and spiritual to hilariously funny in the loos. On my day off between gigs my plans fell through so instead I shared home cooked comfort food at a friend’s flat and watched the documentary style film Expedition Happiness. I was touched by a couple’s journey through Canada exploring and discovering natural wonders, it made me want to travel & later inspired me to paint a large canvas in the early hours to the film’s ethereal sound track Wanderer by Mogli.
My performance at the Bristol Fringe Café comedy night went down well too, we had such a laugh and my comedic set led me to be booked for Redfest 3rd August ’19 (well chuffed)
I drove further south singing full pelt heading for some long overdue Me Time in my prayer partner’s house by the sea in Trevone, Cornwall. Such a precious space on my own to think, write, paint, graze, dance in the kitchen and soak up some sun whilst diving into books I’d missed. Down the road in Newquay I spent a lush weekend with my brother and his family too. We ate together, walked the dog by the sea, enjoyed daft crafts and chatted excitedly about the soon to be born Dusty-Moon, all encompassed in music and more dancing in the kitchen. Reluctantly I left after stuffing my goods ‘n’ chattels into my battered Clio and set off for home via a small detour to Glastonbury.
I arrived early evening after a long-diverted traffic drive. Jenny Bliss, the incredible cellist I’d heard so much about skipped towards me in a long flowing full cotton petticoat skirt and a tight fitted bright blue velvet tunic, welcoming me with a warm smile and an open hug, smelling of patchouli oil and joss sticks. Jenny led me by the hand to a small, simple old stone barn full of hippy colour and clutter, her messy studio/crash pad, I loved it. Waiting patiently was the Australian jazz singer and pianist Kylie Borg. I felt privileged to bring my words, voice and odd Cuban seed pod shaker as percussion to this talented musical gathering. Jenny had a sweet childlike speaking voice which transcended into high willowing notes as she sang and played her cello to Henry Purcell’s ‘Solitude’ accompanied on worn keys by Kylie who experimented with her deep rounded voice as an additional instrument. After a short break of hot cross buns and chat we improvised, sang and played with my poem Me Time to produce a beautiful combination of wispy vocals and repetition of words and sounds, it was breath taking. Kylie drove home, I left Jenny to sleep whilst I, completely uplifted by the incredible musical encounter, floated onto Glastonbury’s highly recommended open mic at the Old Hawthorns. The pub was packed full of strangely dressed misfits and musicians, I felt very at home. I sat in a rickety studded chair with my pint of soda and lime and was joined by Alan the Warlock who I’d met around a birthday campfire years before, but we’d lost touch. He was rather drunk, not particularly coherent but genuinely pleased to see me again. I had some very unusual conversations that night with some weathered and well lived in faces; some were drunk, some high, some with mental health issues but all with interesting stories to tell. I concluded my evening in my friend’s old caravan in a field backing onto the famous Glastonbury Festival farm. I was cooked fried eggs on toast whilst singing to Jungle Book’s Bare Necessities ‘till the early hours. Woken by surround sound birdsong we took a delicious picnic of crusty bread, smelly cheese, olives and red wine to the 7th century Glastonbury Abbey, such fascinating tales in the architecture, beautiful gardens and lakes.
Driving home I reflected on the wealth of experiences and blessings that came from trusting that ‘yes’ instinct; I’m learning daily from my on-going poetic adventures. x