Articles

My mother once told me The sea has a way of attracting lost souls. It’s why there are cigarette butts between the sand. And the wind whips in wails, But when it carries me Away from the landlocked and lonely To a bed of brown tide. It feels a little more like being found. Words by Bea Butterworth, she/they

I used to read. I used to write plays, books, poems and articles. I used to run, I used to hike, I used to sit through marathons of meaningful films remaining undistracted. I used to be someone. Recently I’ve been thinking a lot more about Sylvia Plath’s ‘Fig tree analogy’ from her novel, ‘The Bell Jar.’ This describes the speaker sitting before a fig tree, with each fig holding a different future. As she takes longer and longer to choose which future, the figs begin to rot a

I’m awake by a jerk and very confused desperate for food and to fill this weakness I have felt since just eight the faintness that follows my journeys, conversations, forever marked by a stamp that is covered but always visible attached to signs impossible to ignore Big Bulky signs that map out my country strangers— an invite, to them, a promise of a box a promise of certainty a promise of explication. What on earth is attached to you? they’ll ask, those pryi

A little while ago now, we ran our yearly ‘Give it a Go’ session. Wanting to get to know the members of our society, we asked a few (hopefully) thought-provoking questions, and below are some of the brilliant, bright, and humorous comments from Lippy Members. Go ahead and delve in; I hope you find as much resonance as I did.     What should we be talking about?  Transphobia, ableism, trending body standards, body positivity, intersectional feminism, internalised misogyny (why

On the 9th of May, I had the privilege of attending Theatre Group’s final production of the year: Present Laughter  by Noël Coward,...

The challenge of putting on a production of Sheik and Sater's Alice by Heart lies in its inherent whimsy and unadulterated madness that...