Portfolio

I create safe spaces for ordinary people to tell extraordinary stories.

Whether writing, facilitating or performing, my work sheds light on the human experience, with projects designed to share honest stories, ask important questions and imagine hopeful futures.

Performance Poetry

"Wow. Never had words hit so hard but resonate so much."

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"I can't thank you enough for giving voice in such a powerful way to this experience that I have shared long ago."

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"You are liberating people with words, turning pain into purpose."

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"Wow. Never had words hit so hard but resonate so much." — "I can't thank you enough for giving voice in such a powerful way to this experience that I have shared long ago." — "You are liberating people with words, turning pain into purpose." —

Poetry with Young People

Home - a Prime Youth Theatre and Create Studios Project

In 2025, over a series of workshops, I worked with 11-14 year olds to explore what ‘home’ and ‘belonging’ means to them. We co-wrote and recorded a poem to capture the sights, sounds, smells and feelings of home.

Streetlights - a Revolution Performing Arts and Swindon Paint Fest Project

Working with RPA and Swindon Paint Fest, I co-wrote a poem with 5-11 year olds responding to this street mural by local artist, Paul Exton. The young people performed their poem, plus a movement piece inspired by the mural, at the Wyvern Theatre in July 2024.

Our painting
is bright and exciting
like musical notes
like a line of sheet music
it makes me think of childhood.
When I think about childhood,
I feel sticky lollypops
I smell freshly baked muffins
I taste juicy strawberries on lovely vanilla cupcakes
I hear children running down the street
I hear two-year-olds crying over a grazed knee
I see massive teddies
I taste raspberries, strawberries, and cherries
I hear children complaining about broccoli.
Our painting looks
like a city of shapes
like a city in the future.
When I think about the future,
I see stars in space
I taste the McDonalds I’m going to have for tea.
When I grow up
I want to be a ballerina
I picture myself on a football pitch
I see myself as a paramedic
I imagine aliens in the sky
I see robots and technology
I see flying saucers in the air.
For me, the future is uncertain
I see shapes but I’m not sure what they mean
sometimes the shapes look upside down
but I can shape the future of my town
I can shape the future of my town.

WHAT I OFFER

Poetry Events

I produce Swindon Wordsmiths, a poetry and comedy night created by local people, for local people. A mixture of open-mic and professional performances, the event attracts audiences of 80-90 people.

Follow @swindonwordsmiths

Creative Journalling Workshops

I work with Shine PND (Post-Natal Depression) support group, a safe space for mothers affected by PND to take part in creative workshops. I help mothers write and reflect using creative journalling techniques. I use poetry as a reflective tool to spark conversation and model vulnerability.

One day the muslin cloths will lie motionless in the bottom drawer, no longer flung over sicky shoulders or pushed frantically into lifesaving bags.
One day the bedside crib that once invaded your space will be sold on Facebook Marketplace, destined for another sleepless mother.
One day, you will stop using words like ‘trimester’, ‘colic’ and ‘latch’.
One day the white noise soundtrack will go silent and contact naps will end. Blurry baby-led hours will stretch into school days; flexible spaces filled with conversation and choice.
One day the bamboo bowls with silicone suckers will be stuffed in cupboards behind big kid plates. Fussy eaters will shovel food in, not around, their mouths. Catchy bibs will rest after too many long shifts. Water wipes will go dry inside their packets.
One day the final few nappies will remain unsoiled, forgotten by bums that now sit on ceramic thrones.
One day, the buggy will wheel its last child to the park and you wont even notice.
One day, the car will just be a car, not a pressure cooker, 5-point trap, co-parent, nap machine, podcast palace or driveway retreat.
One day, restless nights, cracked nipples and constant crying will feel like loss and not resentment. The early days might even look like good old days if you colour them with nostalgia and squint at them long enough through rose tinted eyes, sparkling with pride.
One day, the things that mattered then won’t matter anymore. And they will somehow matter more.