About admin

I live in the gaps between words, the pauses in music, the invisible space between objects in a landscape. I am a stay-at-home mum and joint-carer of my dad. My dog helps me to get enough exercise and my cat keeps me in my place. None of these things have any status in modern western society and yet they are mine and I wouldn't change any of them. Mr. Invisible is the Dennis to my Margaret, the Del to my Raquel, the Fitzwilliam to my Elizabeth. He is the love of my life.

No Dad Dancing

You can have too many signs. Sometimes they say so many things that they don’t say anything at all. Inspirational words aren’t quite so inspirational when they become just another thing to clean, or to make me feel inadequate because I haven’t cleaned!

‘No Dad Dancing’ is different. It made Bear laugh. It made Mr. Invisible dance. And each time I see it, I think of my own Dad. I can hear his laughter, his singing. I can see the faded flowers on the tea towel he used to move from side to side behind his hips while he danced in the kitchen of our old house. The one that we don’t live in anymore because we’ve grown up and Mum and Dad are not coming back.

Dad was an enthusiastic dancer. A cousin once pointed out that I’d ‘really gone for it’ when dancing with my Dad at a birthday party. It was the only way to dance with him. The only way I stood a chance of keeping up.

‘No Dad Dancing’ is different. It brings me close to him again. And I need to be close to him again.