Karen's creative work, reflections and project news
A rushed programme note at a village hall show taught me that the little sheet in the audience’s hand is part of the performance. Here’s how I now write one that sounds like a welcome, not a school report.
A rainy Saturday behind a fold-out table taught me more about talking about my work than any workshop ever has. Here is what happened when I stopped apologising, started listening, and treated the quiet stretches as part of the job.
I spent a day at a community arts conference as an independent maker, not a delegate, not staff, and definitely not someone who understood every acronym. Here is what stayed with me: the jargon, the coffee queue, and the one corridor chat that changed how I work.
The applause has stopped, the hall is locked, and the inbox is oddly quiet. A candid look at the after-show drop — and a few gentle ways to land a project rather than let it collapse.
What happens when a community radio host asks you to explain your whole practice before the travel news? Notes on preparation, the temptation to over-rehearse, and why the best promotional interviews feel like conversations rather than adverts — with a short checklist for your first local radio spot.
A candid walk through the strange ritual of turning a living creative practice into funder-friendly boxes. Practical notes on word counts, budgets and the access support section, plus a gentle argument that the application is not the work — but it can still teach you something about it.
The early dark changes what kind of work feels possible. This winter I am not fighting the season — I am making a smaller, quieter plan and trying to finish one modest thing well before the year turns.
Booking small UK community venues has taught me more about making a show than most marketing plans ever have. Here are five lessons from village halls, booking clerks and the person who actually holds the key.
There is a minute before a small show when the room either says come in or says nothing at all. This is a practical, slightly opinionated look at signage, ticket wording, quiet corners and the awkward bit before the lights go up.
A November clear-out of the noticeboard above my desk turned into a lesson in creative curation, guilt and the difference between a possibility and a project. Here is what stayed, what went, and what I am still deciding.
I spent a wet Tuesday morning pinning flyers for our next work-in-progress night, and learned more about being seen than any dashboard has taught me. A local look at noticeboards, torn corners and the humble A5.
For years I treated following up as the embarrassing bit of creative work — the needy cousin of making the actual thing. Then I nearly lost a collaboration by being polite and waiting. Here is what I have changed, and the low-cringe scripts I now keep in a note on my phone.
I once put on a full evening of theatre for £50 — and no, it didn't look like it. Here's the actual receipt, the charity shop rules I swear by, and the free tech that quietly does the heavy lifting. A practical, mildly obsessive guide for anyone making something from almost nothing.
Someone once offered me a room, an audience, and no money, and described it as an opportunity. I said no, felt sick for an hour, and then learned something useful. Here's what to ask before you reply, the scripts I actually use, and why the guilt isn't a moral signal.
Taking an unfinished piece to a village hall is a peculiar kind of bravery — and the most useful thing I've done all year. Three genuinely surprising takeaways from a night of borrowed chairs, digestive biscuits and honest feedback, plus what changes in the next stage of the project.
There is a particular sound a kitchen table makes when you clear it in a hurry — and for me it has come to mean the start of something rather than the end. A few notes on making creative work from a pine table in a small UK flat, plus some prompts and an open invitation for your own kitchen-table projects.