[Applause]
[Music]
hello thank you for that welcome alum um
before I heard Ross speak I’d never
heard of
sobbing and small bees I knew about FOMO
the fear of missing out but so this
really is for Ross I think and it’s just
called SMO bees heads down smartphones
in hand we want to be connected in
constant touch screen contact with those
friends we’ve never met our homes are in
our hands our families are partying
without us on a five inch screen the
Facebook light is bright and swipe it’s
impossible to stop we’re afraid of
missing out on all the gossip we may put
them in our pockets but they’ll goose us
with a greeting never mind we’re on the
bar so in a meeting with the boss don’t
stop to sink just pick up and click that
link thank you
these are some notes that I’ve sort of
been making through the the process of
rehearsals and hearing different
different talks and the title I was a
bit wondering what I would going to put
it a title for this piece and it came
from something that I heard when Alan
was talking at the dress rehearsal and
particularly because of the the venue
that we’re in the titles just sanctuary
houses a stronghold weatherproof and
sound monuments made of bricks and
mortar metal concrete plaster stone and
slate wrought iron gates and terracotta
tiles with glass and painted wood and
white clean window frames and yet for
all the solid walls and and roof
reliable written utilities the posh mod
cons a house is not a home the bricks
and blocks that make a home are flesh
and blood
a state of mind a host of little things
family and pets neighbors and friends
community routine familiar sights and
sounds a sense of place and safety
sunshine and warmth the glory of a
thunderstorm you know you watch was
slugs snugly confident the storm won’t
last forever
there’s comfy chairs and comfort food
and piles of books with pages marked by
treasured post-it notes they’re
souvenirs and photographs letters from
loved ones good company and conversation
shared jokes a smile a touch a hug
respect kind words a sympathetic ear
houses are solid tangible robust but
lack the generous warmth and strengths
of homes we build from things that often
can’t be touched however much they’re
felt
thank you
it’s time for taking stock a stack of
cardboard boxes forms the stage that
served a setting for our tails this
ancient temples been a temporary home in
which we’ve welcomed you to contemplate
and celebrate explore and share our
thoughts of home home home a Saturday
got started with alarm set early
lethargic cars and public transport
drizzle drowning spirits then despite
the weather we gathered here together
and found goodie bags and blankets lost
hats fragmented lights and crackling
mics we’ve heard about the anti poem
casting off of trappings reducing to a
minimum for things we carry with us in a
backpack or a rucksack a life stripped
clean downsized pared back portability
the home we keep inside ourselves when
we embrace our restlessness or
struggling not to waste the great
potential we are heirs to we set off on
our journey round the world with nothing
but the poles we wear a bike a tent a
mattress in a van we traveled around the
world and heard of other homes and
cultures and of makeshift shacks
shelters made of trash scrap and plastic
can find the clearly allotted places of
designated spaces in beer bees and
hostels sadly regimented beds of wards
in hospitals and hospices
and how a word a hug a cup of tea shared
memories and melodies transform these
into hold
[Applause]
[Music]
hello thank you for that welcome alum um
before I heard Ross speak I’d never
heard of
sobbing and small bees I knew about FOMO
the fear of missing out but so this
really is for Ross I think and it’s just
called SMO bees heads down smartphones
in hand we want to be connected in
constant touch screen contact with those
friends we’ve never met our homes are in
our hands our families are partying
without us on a five inch screen the
Facebook light is bright and swipe it’s
impossible to stop we’re afraid of
missing out on all the gossip we may put
them in our pockets but they’ll goose us
with a greeting never mind we’re on the
bar so in a meeting with the boss don’t
stop to sink just pick up and click that
link thank you
these are some notes that I’ve sort of
been making through the the process of
rehearsals and hearing different
different talks and the title I was a
bit wondering what I would going to put
it a title for this piece and it came
from something that I heard when Alan
was talking at the dress rehearsal and
particularly because of the the venue
that we’re in the titles just sanctuary
houses a stronghold weatherproof and
sound monuments made of bricks and
mortar metal concrete plaster stone and
slate wrought iron gates and terracotta
tiles with glass and painted wood and
white clean window frames and yet for
all the solid walls and and roof
reliable written utilities the posh mod
cons a house is not a home the bricks
and blocks that make a home are flesh
and blood
a state of mind a host of little things
family and pets neighbors and friends
community routine familiar sights and
sounds a sense of place and safety
sunshine and warmth the glory of a
thunderstorm you know you watch was
slugs snugly confident the storm won’t
last forever
there’s comfy chairs and comfort food
and piles of books with pages marked by
treasured post-it notes they’re
souvenirs and photographs letters from
loved ones good company and conversation
shared jokes a smile a touch a hug
respect kind words a sympathetic ear
houses are solid tangible robust but
lack the generous warmth and strengths
of homes we build from things that often
can’t be touched however much they’re
felt
thank you
it’s time for taking stock a stack of
cardboard boxes forms the stage that
served a setting for our tails this
ancient temples been a temporary home in
which we’ve welcomed you to contemplate
and celebrate explore and share our
thoughts of home home home a Saturday
got started with alarm set early
lethargic cars and public transport
drizzle drowning spirits then despite
the weather we gathered here together
and found goodie bags and blankets lost
hats fragmented lights and crackling
mics we’ve heard about the anti poem
casting off of trappings reducing to a
minimum for things we carry with us in a
backpack or a rucksack a life stripped
clean downsized pared back portability
the home we keep inside ourselves when
we embrace our restlessness or
struggling not to waste the great
potential we are heirs to we set off on
our journey round the world with nothing
but the poles we wear a bike a tent a
mattress in a van we traveled around the
world and heard of other homes and
cultures and of makeshift shacks
shelters made of trash scrap and plastic
can find the clearly allotted places of
designated spaces in beer bees and
hostels sadly regimented beds of wards
in hospitals and hospices
and how a word a hug a cup of tea shared
memories and melodies transform these
into hold
[Applause]
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