White Night in Brighton felt like a land at the top of the magical Faraway Tree: strangers chatted like friends, bizarre animals stalked the streets and a chaotic excitement mingled with the air. My favourite part was life drawing in St Paul’s Church in Russell Place, just behind West St.
I crept through hordes of the undead, taking photographs of them and screaming while throwing unsuspecting fresh meat (other humans) in their path before running for cover.
Wandering home after a day of taking photos of zombies at the Brighton Zombie Walk, the sonic art, currently on display at Brighton University Gallery, called to me. “Take a photo,” it whispered gently. I clambered onto the pebble dashed ledge and pressed my camera phone against the glass.
Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon,
the leaf frees its fully formed shape,
slowly displacing the air around it.
it tickles as it creeps down my nostril;
I lay here waiting for the moment when I’ll have to get up and blow my nose.
In a sea of dried mud and Sussex stone the delicate red petals fluttered alarmingly.