You may have stashed away your spirit
in a dark corner of a dark cupboard
in a dark room
in a dark house
on a dark street
in a dark town
(on a dark night)

because… so many different reasons
probably because it hurt

but somewhere – it is still lying there
to be



Under Milk Wood - Illustration by Emily Milne Wallis

Illustration by Emily Milne Wallis
Poster for Under Milk Wood
by Dylan Thomas
Performed in Aberystwyth

Think Wales and Dylan Thomas have crept into my thoughts…
To be honest dont know a lot about Wales, when have been there walking, spend a lot of time, sitting in laundrettes waiting for the rain to stop and drying our clothes

But the countryside is beautiful, mountains mainly but it rains so much
its difficult to appreciate

‘Under Milk Wood’ spoken in a dark, deep Welsh accent is very special…



FIRST VOICE [very softly]

To begin at the beginning:

It is Spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters’-and- rabbits’ wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea. The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles) or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle by the pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall in widows’ weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now.”



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