the last furiously mad project blog.
2 days befor the launch. everyone has been workin really hard over the past week to get the show looking smooth, tying everyones work together with a beautiful yellow time line. i have really enjoyed this project it has brought the group together and the support from each other has been emense. today my friend emailed me a folly story admitedly late but it has made me think…. this project has not just been about me! maybe just maybe it has helped some people. by putting pen to paper and writing their stories perhaps they have been able to deal with some things or celebrate the way that they are. that is a very special thing and this project has enabled them to do that. thankyou to all the people that put their heart, soul and jokes into their stories.
here is the last story
Custancia Bridde
3rd August 1545
serf
A relentless burning in my forehead. A noise I cannot put a name to. It is only in brief moments when I realise a quietness has descended that I struggle to recall it and it manifests itself anew. The pauses are just there to remind me to hear it all over again and I try to identify it for the first time every time. I know it is the noise of doubt, of loss, of nothingness but it consumes. It tips me off balance and burns and rots and blackens my soul. I shut people out. Can’t bear to deal with their little problems and it is in fact that I can’t concentrate on what they say for long enough before I am back in my head with the noise and the grief. It started when I lost a great love. He died too young and now everything seems so trivial in comparison. They tell me that I have the folly because I have chosen to ignore them but it is they who have it. Why can’t they see the ridiculousness with which they can carry on with this life as if nothing has happened. I want to scream at them to wake up. In my dreams he is real again and I call out to him to come back. In my dreams I am doing relentless chores and it feels like walking through mud all the night. It feels like walking through mud as the day breaks and the noise begins again. They say they can remove my stone of folly and then the noise will be gone. But I’d rather live with the deafening noise and continue to trudge through the mud than forget him.