Not far from the busy weekend streets of Brick Lane, with its determined shoppers and queues for cereal, we found a wonderland. The location, which will remain secret at the request of Brit, was filled with wonders from years gone by. Magnificent tattered chairs, large wooden tables and a variety of antiques sat below a mist of incense. A musical duo performed in the background and an interesting chap repeatedly entered and exited to light his cigarette on the candles. The scene was set to delve into the mind of a curious illustrator with a knack for poetic one liners.
To me, storytelling is the highest form of artistry. Every form of creative expression should, in some way, tell us a story. As a writer, being able to see the story in a piece of work is so fundamental to me that if I don’t, it doesn’t resonate with me. True poetry is the ultimate storytelling performance art; every stanza, verse, chorus (yes, songs are poetry) encapsulates us with a tale that goes far beyond the words and settles somewhere deep within us.