'Voices'

Last year I set myself the goal of writing a poem every day, even just a line. Some days I missed, some days I wrote a lot more than I had intended and so 2019 ended with a small suitcase full of my scribbles.

I once read that "poetry is when you stop thinking and just feel" and that felt more true than ever when I attempted my challenge.

There were those days where all I could write was "Breathe" because I needed the reminder but there were the times where I needed to let my heart lead my pen.

I am not going to sit here and tell you that I know all about poetry. I don't. There are so many different styles, far more than what you learn in school. Don't get me wrong, Seamus Heaney is great but what about Leonard Cohen and Jim Morrison? And heck, I've just fallen in love with Scroobius Pip and Kate Tempest. Poetry is so more than what we were taught. There are more meanings than teachers lead us to believe, we just have to be that little bit more open to it and toss aside how we were told to think in school.

Anyway, I am really going off topic here!

The whole purpose of me writing this post is that last October I pieced together some monologues and poems I had written over 18 months and submitted them as a script to Smock Alley Theatre's Scene + Heard Festival. It was a long shot but, as they say, if you're not in, you can't win.

As silly as it sounds, I don't think I'll ever forget the evening I got the acceptance email. I love to write but I don't have my faith in my content or my abilities. It's only recently that I've even started putting my name to poems rather than posting them anonymously on a separate Instagram account. But my writing got in. I may (read as totally did) scream when the email came through.

The thrill of an audition, of the stage... nothing has compared to the feeling I felt when I read that my

writing was going to be performed on the Smock Alley stage. It was validation, something I've been trying to train my mind to not need. I am a writer. I do read and enjoy poetry. I am a poet. It feels so wonderful to not feel embarrassed saying that out loud.

So... what's my play about?

I struggle to describe it to people who aren't directly involved with the production. I've been leaning on my assistant director, Ciaran, to explain what I seem to be unable to do. He's all sorts of amazing and has been my rock since November. Putting up with me and my neurosis is not an easy task.

It's not that I don't know. It's that... well... it's made up of my stories. Like, literally my stories. The poems and monologues are all based on different times in my life, different people in my life; some good, some really awful. One of the things I firmly believe about writing is that you should always write about what you know and I have spent the last two years trying to figure out who I am so I may as well be brave enough to share my findings. Essentially what is going on that stage is my heart.

It is terrifying. Beyond terrifying actually. However, my stories aren't just my stories. They are the stories of so very many women out there. We keep our secrets so that we can stay shiny in the eyes of society. Secrets that could break us but yet, somehow, we still get up every morning (or try to at least), put on that face, and brave the out. Through various conversations with women who I have encountered over the years, I know I'm not alone and there is a comfort in that... But we shouldn't have to enjoy this camaraderie in the shadows. Actually we shouldn't have so many of these stories in common in the first place.

I won't go into the content because I want you to come see the show and if I reveal too much then what's the point of that?

I am so very lucky in the cast of people who have agreed to give my words their voices. Louise Dunne, Charlotte Keating, Kate Cosgrave, Rahul Dewan and Megan Carter, thank you for agreeing to come on board and for putting up with my abundance of emotions after every single rehearsal. I will always be grateful to you.

Michelle ni Fhaircheallaigh (I'm finally able to spell your name without having to look it up), you have the voice of an angel and we all promise to not keep quiet anymore.

My brother and my daughter. Singer and artist.

Terry Kenny, you took a blurry photo and made something beautiful.

My father. He gave me the gift of words and being able to use some of his writing in this piece fills my heart. So far away but I keep him close.

Gah... This is becoming some dodgy Oscars speech or something so I should stop now.

I wrote this because I need to get used to explaining what my show is without either pawning people off on poor Ciaran or downing a glass of wine for courage.

I do hope that you can make the show and I would accept any and all feedback because I intend to develop into something much bigger.

If you've read this far, thank you! I'll stop now.

'Voices'

The Boys' School, Smock Alley Theatre

21.30, February 12th & 13th

Tickets can be purchased here