Imagine… “Books are banned, reading is forbidden, literature is outlawed”

Dear God, how do i even begin to describe Saturday night out in brighton?

In the beginning came Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” … ‘10,000 books burnt every day, 300,000 every month…until he last page is burnt and gone, welcome to the burning.’

burning

 

The joy of exhilaration, before we had even entered the gates the atmosphere had changed. The energy in the air had shifted the mood to one of warranted anticipation. The laughter and the chat of the gathered crowd, chilling!

The first time I had bothered going to the theatre in years, was not a mistake.

books

 

 

The hustle and bustle of the people on the ground, the up and down antics of the performers twisting and twirling in the air, the grimace of mechanical wheels on the equipment, the pyrotechnics, the haunting voiceover fore boding, forewarning Big Brother stylee.

wheels

 

 

The jets apparently passing overhead the abandoned Preston Barracks, the clatter and yangle of the technical frames, the burning books, the single solo violin grinding through the night.

spinning

My toes danced, my joy rang out, someone, Hugh passed me a cup of hot chocolat and whiskey laced with something (chilli), children dazzled with the wondrous display sitting high upon the shoulders of elders as we were all pushed and pulled by Gestapo type soldiers making way for the prisoner.

prisoner

Freedom… must be had, cannot be stopped and out door theatre will never die as long as performers like Periplum… refuse to be silenced.

our hero

Roar 😉

Show over we all toddled back into town and to the  Spiegeltent 🙂

So much more merriment to be had.

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