Today, I am writing from the cafe where I have camped out with my laptop while Rose does her gymnastics camp.

But a week ago, I was walking barefoot across the Pit Theatre stage at the Barbican, bringing to life the love letter that has been living inside me for years.

Support & see this project

You can see a glimpse of what it looked like in the photo above, taken by the incomparable Julia Forsman.

This email is late.

I had planned to send out my final email of “sign up as a Stem supporter if you’d like to see what we made” the day after the industry showing.

Instead, immediately after finishing our residency, I came down with a stomach virus and spent the weekend in bed. After miraculously holding out all week, my body crashed from the intensity of the process, and there was nothing to do but surrender to it.

I’m better now, so I’m picking up the pieces and sending this as a final reminder for anyone who would like to be part of making this project happen.

Last chance for crowdfunder support & rewards (including seeing this work)

Given the stomach virus, I decided to extend my crowdfunding campaign for an extra 48 hours - so if you’d like to help or see the work, this is the moment.

One of the thank yous I’m offering is an invitation to an online event to see some of the work that was created.

My crowdfunder is 88% of the way there, so if you are in a position to contribute and bring us over that final line, I would be so grateful. (And a huge THANK YOU to everyone who already has - a mind-boggling 67 of you amazing people!!!)

Living in the art-bubble…

This week was exhilarating and exhausting, undoubtedly one of the most rewarding artistic experiences I have ever had.

Going in to this process, I thought it would be a win if we worked through about 10 minutes of material. I wasn’t sure what my mind, body, and heart could hold.

But to my utter astonishment, we managed to build a 45 minute, off-book, workshop performance that integrated all these different artistic elements.

The main priority for the research and development process was to experiment with how the different storytelling mediums could work together - music, projection, movement, live painting, and of course the words themselves.

Rose was away on a trip with her dad during this time. I missed her terribly, but it was also amazing to focus just on creation for a week. I leapt headlong into the artistic bubble - eating, sleeping, and breathing this show. I was running lines in the bath, before I went to bed, the moment I opened my eyes…

I pulled on every bit of my energy reserves, with no regrets. During every break, I’d take a yoga mat and a lavender eye pillow (thanks again, Kat and Fed!) and lie down to regain enough energy to keep going. I knew I’d need a couple of days in bed afterward; I hadn’t anticipated quite how hard the crash would hit me, but it was worth it.

Afterwards I was walking on air, that this thing I have dreamed of for so long now exists in the world. Or at least, existed for at least in one moment in time - and also, in the recording we took to preserve it for the future.

I feel such peace and gratitude that when Rose is older and ready to see this, a recording will exist for her, regardless of whether I am able to perform it at that moment.

Thank you thank you thank you

I have been overwhelmed with the support in so many different forms that has come to make this project possible. I feel like I can see the web extending out of all the people who are part of it.

Thanks to that support, I know what this show is now.

It is ready for a full production process.

That’s the next dream to chase.

But for now, I am savouring the magic and kindness that made this possible.

I don’t take it for granted for a moment.

Add your support

Artistic life can feel a lot like fishing. At least, that’s the analogy I like to think of when applying for opportunities.

You cast your line into the water, and you never quite know what is going to pop up.

Most of the fish will pass you by, but when you get a bite… that feeling is magic.

That’s how I felt earlier this year when I learned I’d been selected for this year’s Open Lab at the Barbican Centre.

This moment has been seven-plus years in the making. The love letter I started writing to my daughter Rose on her first birthday, when I was in the middle of chemo for the first time, has bit by bit grown into a show. Now it will be getting a full week of research & development - essentially, rehearsal without a production at the end!

Every creative work we make teaches us something about ourselves, and for this one, I feel like I am bringing in every part of myself, because I’m not just writing the story of my life during my cancer treatment, I’m performing it.

There is movement. There is singing. There is even live painting. (I know - crazy!)

How am I going to do all of this? I don’t know… yet!

But I have an amazing team working with me, and I can’t wait to build on the years of development that have led to this point.

The work that happens in darkness

I realise I’ve been quiet on this newsletter. When I got this Barbican opportunity, I reoriented my entire year around it, which broke the rhythm I had planned out. Some personal bumps in the road derailed things still further.

The longer the silence stretched, the more embarrassed I felt, and the harder it became to actually find the right words.

I wrote about four separate drafts before this email that you’re reading.

Sometimes we don’t realise we need to go into the cocoon until we’re already in it. We’re in the dark, things are changing and shifting, but we don’t quite know what’s going on or how it’s going to end up.

That’s been the place I’ve been living over these past several months.

But this week, it is coming into the light. I’ll be sharing the story and the skills I have been working on in the rehearsal room and building towards an industry showing on the last day.

This is the final development stage that will hopefully be a springboard to a full production next year, and it feels incredible that seeds planted so long ago are finally getting the chance to sprout.

Making it anyway

Alongside the joy of getting the thrilling news about the Barbican, I heard that the Arts Council Grant I had been applying on to fund it was not successful. It’s a hard time for funding in the arts, and wait times have grown so long I didn’t have a chance to reapply.

There’s always a decision in these moments. What do you do? Do you cancel the project? Or just decide to make it anyway?

I expect you can guess which route I chose.

I had about a third of my minimum budget provided by the Barbican - so I decided to take a leap of faith to crowdfund the remaining amount.

I’ll be running this crowdfunder for just 5 more days, culminating on the showcase day on 31 July. After launching on social media last week, I’ve already raised 70% of the money thanks to the incredibly generous donors who have chipped in. But I’m hoping I can find at least 10 more people who believe in this project enough to support it.

(Among the ‘thank you’ options is an online sharing I’ll be hosting later this summer, so if you’re someone who would buy a ticket to one of my shows this is the next best thing!)

I know times are hard for everyone, so even if supporting monetarily doesn’t work for you, I’d be grateful for any shares or likes if you see me on socials to help the project get as much visibility as possible.

If you’d like to learn a bit more about the project or contribute you can do so here:

https://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/p/to-rose-barbican2026

Crowdfunding as connection

I think it’s natural to feel a bit ‘cringe’ when we have to say we need help. It’s a vulnerable feeling. But the beautiful thing is witnessing who shows up.

And people have shown up for me so so generously - in giving financial support to the project, but also in sharing posts and celebrating this work.

There are too many people to name (you know who you are, and I could write an ode of gratitude about each one of you) but here is a little sampling…

• The very first contributor - my friend who has experience as an oncology nurse. During treatment, she was the person I could text about any side effect, any time of the day or night, and nothing was too embarrassing or too much trouble. Her advice and support helped to keep me alive, and made me feel less alone when I didn’t know who I was anymore.

• The friend I haven’t seen since my first cancer treatment during 2019, who brought me a plant which is still sitting on my windowsill. This little succulent stem is now nearly two feet long, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to trim it because it feels like such a beautiful testament to how life continues on.

• The parent from my daughter’s class who sat around the kitchen table with me over tea talking about life.

• My family - generous relatives scattered around the world - but particularly my Dad, who has already given me so much, but shows up again, and again, and again to let me know he believes in me.

• The roommate I stayed up late with as teenagers, laughing and imagining the lives we would have some day - never guessing the ways reality would be more complicated and also richer.

• A woman I have never even met from one of my mum’s groups who connected so much to this story she wanted to support it even though she didn’t know me.

Beyond deservingness

Being given so much, I found myself wondering - do I deserve this?

And honestly, I think the answer is probably ‘no’.

I don’t deserve it.

Because to me, something we ‘deserve’ feels like something we are entitled to - whether through our own efforts or the expectations we have been given by the universe.

But sometimes the things that come to us are not things we have earned.

All we can do is accept, with wonder and gratitude, that there is so much generosity in the world, and that we have been lucky to be recipients of it.

That certainly feels true for me.

There’s one line I had to cut from the most recent draft of this play, but I still carry it in my heart.

“Rose and I were loved into existence by the people around us.”

Seven years ago, I couldn’t walk normally because my nerves were so damaged from chemo. Three years ago, I was reeling from navigating the end of cancer treatment and the end of my marriage simultaneously. And today, I am getting ready for the most joyous and exciting creative opportunity of my life to date.

Thanks for being part of my journey, and the community that has kept me and my little girl going through all the ups and downs.

I can’t wait to show you what I’ve been up to.

Lots of love,

Alli

Fifteen years ago today, I walked down the aisle with the person I thought I would be spending the rest of my life with.

We had been together for six years and talking about marriage for a while, but an impending visa renewal as Americans living abroad put a bit more time pressure on the decision . I was clear that I wanted to be with Zach forever, but wasn’t entirely sure about the whole ‘institution of marriage’ thing until bureaucracy forced our hand.

So we decided: five weeks later, we were going to go to Vegas.

We almost missed our flight after mistakenly going to the wrong airport in our excitement over having first-class upgrade vouchers for the Heathrow Express (oops!).

After running through the bowels of the airport and a nailbiting cab ride, we made it in time.

I was delighted I had managed to find blue suede shoes (which were serendipitously in fashion that year) to wear to our Vegas nuptials, and even found an Elvis impersonator to pose with.

It was a magical day, thanks to the heroic efforts of our family and friends (special shoutout to the Smithsters - may every woman be so lucky to have a sister who has interned for a wedding planner!). We were married in a surprisingly classy chapel by the official minister of the PGA Golf Tour and serenaded by friends and family before decamping to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner.

The past collides with the present

In a funny twist, yesterday I finally got around to cleaning out the closet where I had unceremoniously shoved all the linens, and I came across the box with my wedding gown. Rose wanted to see what was inside so I opened it up - carefully untying the ribbon and folding back the layers of tissue paper.

To the present day me, it just looks like what it is - a collection of lace and fabric that cost barely more than the dry cleaning bill to preserve it afterwards (I found it on a dodgy website of budget dresses from China).

Yet seeing Rose gasp in excitement, I could remember how radiant I felt on the day I wore it: complete with that tingly ‘bride’ feeling they talk about on ‘Say Yes To The Dress’.

Part of me wants to get rid of it - it’s taking up more space than it deserves, and I certainly won’t wear it again. Even if I felt comfortable recycling it for a new marriage (note: would probably need to start dating first), it would never fit the post-mastectomy version of me who no longer has breasts.

If I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure why I’m saving the dress. I suppose in my mind, it’s a keepsake for Rose - I want to preserve for her these little touches of the love that created her, even if it is no longer there in the same way.

This morning, Zach packed up her bag to take her to the home he shares with his new partner for sleepover night.

On reflection, it’s a little bit miraculous that in many ways today felt like any other day, rather than carrying a dominating grief. I remembered just in time - as they were heading out the door, I said, ‘Oh yeah, Happy Anniversary!’

He smiled and said ‘Happy Anniversary’, and held his arm out for a hug.

I put my arms around him. While we stood there for a moment - which felt short and endless all at the same time - Rose squeezed in between us, grinning - asking ‘Whaaaaaat are you guys doing!?’

Celebration is a choice (but cannot be forced)

It’s not easy to know how to mark these things. My feelings about this day and what it means have evolved over time.

We’ve been separated for 2.5 years. The first anniversary was, for me, excruciating. The second had the sensation of dull ache. In both cases, celebration would have been unthinkable.

This year felt more like an overcast sky - a haze of melancholy hovering over the day, but some bright spots as well. This year I didn’t just force myself through the motions, I actually wanted to honour what this moment meant in my life.

The memories that stay with me now go beyond the bond between myself and Zach: they are about all the love that echoed around us from the people we care about, and which still foundational for us and for Rose.

While I mostly kept it simple, I celebrated in my own way - I got my self a mini chocolate lava cake from the supermarket and ate it while taking an online course on crafting the hero’s journey within spiritual memoir. To be fair, that’s a pretty ideal evening for me.

And, of course, I sat down to write.

Letting the story change over time

The two 26-year-olds who made those promises to each other never could have predicted what would come: the transformative experiences of parenthood, the harrowing journey of cancer, or the way that Zach stepping into his queerness would require him to step out of the relationship.

Even though we are no longer bound by those vows, I can still hear their echo, inspired by the little girl who still lives in the space between us.

I’m marking this day by sharing a poem that I wrote for Zach for our 10th wedding anniversary - in the middle of my cancer years and the pandemic.

Things that have outlasted the ending of our union - like this poem - feel particularly precious. I am struck by how if anything the sentiments in these lines of verse feel even more true today.

Tin

For Zachary

Ten years
Named for tin
Because after that all time
It is strong and durable, so they say

But I find myself thinking of tinkers
With hammers and shears
Perhaps marriage is
That too

There is beauty in the dented, mended watering can
That can still hold water, that can still nourish life

For now,

Alli

P.S. I’ll be posting a recorded version of this poem on Instagram: @alligatrrr

The year of the fire horse has arrived! With it, we move into considering the craft of photography.

I love the synchronicity of exploring an art that is created by capturing light while we mark a lunar new year illuminated by fire. The new moon is a time of darkness - but the spark is already present.

When I was initially thinking about how to design The Total Artist as an online experiment, I questioned where photography should fit.

In one sense, it belongs in the world of visual art - this is an obvious kinship. While the tools may be different (a camera versus a paintbrush), the output of an image is the same.

However, most of us will have a very different relationship to photography than we do to drawing/painting/sculpture/etc. The way we engage with these two mediums is, on the whole, wildly dissimilar.

It is almost impossible - as a human being and as an artist - to exist in today’s world without becoming a creator of pictures and film in some capacity. This is how we document and share our lives and our work.

Photography is inescapable.

So to me, it felt like photography deserved its own period of reflection, distinct from the experience of drawing or painting.

We’re going to be exploring the discipline of photography from two angles - first, pictures as an embodiment of stillness, and then film as an embodiment of movement.

I’ll be sharing a video to explore this topic in more detail in the coming days; but at this moment what struck me the most was the moment of initiation: considering where we begin.

Writing this post, I realised anew how often I reach outward for inspiration before looking inward to my own experience. It’s a reflexive impulse - to search, to seek out a frame, to find the experts, and most of all, simply to fill the void that is inevitably opened by the existence of a question.

Those external influences have huge value.

Yet something is lost when we don’t take the moment first to check in with ourselves and identify our own experiences and ideas.

I gain so much more out of creative explorations when I first contextualise my own curiosity - considering what this calls up from my past, what preconceptions or areas of naivete might be colouring my view. How does this topic already operate in my life? What are my feelings about it? Where can I dig deeper? What opinions have I already uncovered simply through the process of living?

There is always something there - and the results can be surprising. They sometimes show me that the stories I am attached to are blinding me to deeper truths. And other times reveal that I know more than I realised.

By looking inward first, we become so much better prepared to receive wisdom from outside ourselves - and most importantly, we won’t miss the hidden knowledge that already exists within.

As we embark on exploring this new discipline, I’d invite you to just notice how photography works in your own life.

• Where do you reach for the camera?

• Where do you shy away?

• What photographs are burned in your memory?

• What do you think should never be photographed?

• What is your impression of photography is an art?

• Where do you see your relationship to it?

It’s enough to carry these questions with us and let them reveal themselves. While dedicated time for journalling and thinking has huge value, insights can also crop up at the most unexpected moments - when our subconscious mind gets the chance to bubble to the surface, unimpeded by direct focus.

Whether we realise it or not, we are pioneers.

Photography was invented around 1826 according to google - this is a comparatively new art. (Compare this to sculpture, which dates back tens of thousands of years.)

It’s quite exciting to be part of the story with an art form that is in many ways still so young. As we participate in it, we are also shaping it - with every photo we snap of a really good meal, a beautiful sunset, or a child sleeping with arms splayed.

In these moments, we are determining what deserves to have attention paid.

And the best place to start in understanding the significance of this, is with ourselves.

For now,

Alli

I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about poetry during this fortnight (as part of a yearlong creative experiment), and the role of mystery - how to make sense of the strange and inexplicable in this world we inhabit.

The chaos of living

Life is seeming a bit messy right now - I’ve been experiencing this myself, and witnessing it with others over the last couple of weeks.

Moments like…

Showing up for my driving test - but arriving 10 minutes late because my instructor wrote the numbers of the time down wrong, and I failed to double check, thereby narrowly missing it…

Arriving at my second hospital appointment of the day (just routine scans luckily!) to be told it is actually taking place in a separate building and I have to rush across town to try to make it in time…

Or being informed that I have inexplicably been unregistered as self-employed after paying tax without issue for nearly two decades…!

All these things have turned out okay. My driving test has been rescheduled, and by pulling some strings my instructor managed to get me a test in a couple of weeks rather than the standard 6 month wait. The doctor couldn’t see me that day, but I didn’t have to come in again because my hospital appointment was switched to a telephone call. And the tax issue was actually not a problem at all, just an administrative glitch.

I wish I could say that even in the heat of the moment I had enough self-awareness to recognise that none of these were huge disasters. But the stress at the time was unbelievable. It takes a lot of time and energy to manage these things - not just the work itself, but the feelings that come with them: frustration, annoyance, boredom, and of course the unnerving sense that you might be going just a little bit crazy.

For me, it is unquestionably the emotional energy that makes these tasks so draining. It calls forth that feeling of why isn’t the world working!? And yet, the more that things go wrong, the more that the inherent absurdity of life is revealed.

There is something strangely liberating about accepting that events will never be completely within our control.

I could feel the change in my response as this cluster of events formed. With the driving lesson, I cried. The tax issue, I muttered a few juicy profanities. But by the time the hospital appointment rolled around, I stood there, dripping from hurrying through the rain, and I couldn’t help but laugh. (Which fortunately broke the tension beautifully with the bewildered receptionist.)

The moments where we get derailed from our grand plans by dealing with the uninspiring admin and mixups of life are not aberrations - they’re part of the authentic experience of being alive.

When we insulate ourselves from inconvenience, we are separating ourselves from life itself.

Poetry as alchemy

This recent series of strange glitches takes me back to a moment in 2020 - when I got to experience firsthand the power of poetry to transform experience.

It was during Covid, when I was still strongly feeling the effects of cancer treatment. My energy was limited to the point that even things like unloading the dishwasher would require lying down and having a rest afterwards.

As I remember it, in this particular chilly week, someone (okay, it was me) had failed to shut the freezer door properly after carefully packing away leftovers. Unfortunately, this was not realised until the next day, when the ice had overgrown so badly that it was no longer possible to close the door at all.

So instead of the day I had planned, I had to throw out all the food, which was no longer safe, and defrost the freezer. The energy I was expecting to be able to focus on creativity I was going to be spent chipping ice and wrangling cracked plastic drawers.

I was frustrated and sad, especially because every moment where I actually had enough energy to be active felt so precious. Was I really supposed to waste it on this thankless task? How could the universe be diverting my focus this way when I have important priorities like making art!

At first, I was designed to the day being a write-off. But as I became focused on the task, I discovered I was finding it strangely satisfying to put this problem to rights.

And then I thought…

Hang on… What if I write a poem ABOUT defrosting my freezer?

The magic of poetry is that it is wily and flexible - it can slip into the cracks of life, letting us jot down a few lines here or there to capture moments that would otherwise be lost to time and memory.

So while I sat on the floor in my little kitchen, I also took out my phone and typed a tiny poem.

It’s not my most sophisticated work, but I really love this poem because to me, it marks a refusal to be defeated by the forces of domestic anarchy. Even just having those few minutes for poetry transformed my day.

And it turned that thankless task from something to trudge though, to an opportunity to look for and find meaning in the details of our experience.

This is why I think poetry has a unique power to bless the mundane in our lives. When we turn little moments in our lives into poems, we open doors to significance and gratitude - or perhaps it’s more true to say, we make visible the magic and meaning that were there all along.

A poem (for you)

Ice

If someone had told me
That adult life means
Getting excited about
Defrosting a freezer
I would have run away
To neverland
Years ago.

Yet here I am,
Watching ice melt
And gleefully collecting
The fallen chunks,
Symbols of my victory
Over chaos
And cold.

Addendum: How this poem has changed for me over time

It was interesting revisit this poem in 2026 and to experience how my relationship with it has changed since it was written.

Anything with the word ‘ICE’ in it takes on a different layer of meaning in light of the news headlines at the moment. The significance feels very different today than it did 5 years ago when I wrote the poem.

We make what we make - but the world around us will inevitably reveal new layers we could never have imagined.

In fact, it seems to me that the idea of the importance of melting ice seems to take on a new meaning, and has never felt more timely…

What can you transform with poetry now?

Even a single word has power. And you don’t have to think of yourself as a ‘poet’ to tap into the power of language.

Poetry is - or should be - for everyone. And nothing is too insignificant to warrant attention. If we need inspiration, all we have to do is look around us; if what’s happening is defrosting the freezer (and removing problematic ice) then so be it!

For now,

Alli

P.S. If you’d like to hear this poem read aloud, pop on over to my Instagram: @alligatrrr.

Image: AI generated to author prompt

Dear friends,

Sunday was the full moon, and the point that marked our shift from considering prose and clarity to looking at poetry and mystery.

Are you sleeping?

I’m not! The nights in my home are, for the moment, unquiet.

While the joy of parenting is undeniable, the sleepless nights can be gruelling, and it is a continual shock to experience the extent to which these extend beyond babyhood.

I’m creating this newsletter in a bit of a fog, but to be honest, that feels somehow appropriate for the topic. Mystery exists in the dark, and in the places beyond rationality. Sometimes, the loosening effect of fatigue can enable its magic to shine through more brightly. At least this is what I’m telling myself?

Nothing is ever wasted

I love the truism that nothing is ever wasted - in life or in art - because we can always find a way to make something out of our scraps.

I kind of love this feeling, where my past self has found a way to take care of the future me. It’s like going to the freezer to pull out the soup wisely frozen in preparation for the day when cooking is too big of a burden - a gift from my earlier existence.

While the video is new, for the written portion of this newsletter, I’ve drawn from material I created for last year’s Total Artist programme. So if you were around for that, this may feel a bit familiar.

But of course - repetition is an opportunity to refine.

Creative prompt: Poetry and Mystery

Your creative task:

Create a piece of poetic writing that taps into your intuition. Take the risk of creating something you do not fully understand.

Your life prompt:

Where is mystery moving through your life? How does it feel to stop looking for explanations for those things?

A project idea to get started:

If you’re already someone with an existing poetry practice, I would imagine you may already have a challenge in mind.

But if you’re new to this area, don’t be intimidated!

The first step is just to dip your toe in the water in whatever way feels comfortable for you.

I’ll be sending out some additional project ideas in the next couple of days, but I wanted to start with offering one that is a particularly great starting point...

This is a great moment to reconnect with your reflective practice (journal, video diary, etc) - because when we enter the realm of mystery, interesting things can start to unfold. And having a way to track and process that inspiration can be particularly valuable.

So try this…

Journal in poetry.

Let the words flow out in strange fragments - capture images, play with punctuation, dive into the sensory experience of your life.

This is actually my preferred way to journal now, although it came out of a moment of true desperation. About a year and a half ago, I was in a particularly difficult moment of distress - the kind that leaves you on your knees in a way you thought only happened in movies (until suddenly, it is you).

I tried to journal, and what came out instead ended up being poetry. And it released me from some of the thought loops I had been getting stuck inside during my journalling up to that point.

In that moment, I couldn’t string together linear thoughts, but it still helped me so much to have a way to record my experience. The fragmentary nature was so true to my internal experience at that time. And while most of what came out was just noise, I actually found a few gems in there that I could develop into something more polished once I had enough emotional distance to be ready for this.

The thing to keep in mind is this:

Sometimes, the main goal is to try to capture our experience, rather than try to to understand it.

In this video…

• Brief reflections on prose and clarity

• The creative power of the unplanned / spontaneity

• Uncertainty as a space for potential blessings

• How poetry saved me when my life fell apart

• Responding to language’s texture, not just its meaning

• The dance between the surrender of flow and the craft of editing

• How poetry is great for short bursts of time (5 minutes here or there)

• Privacy: the essential permission to write badly

Want more? I am making mini videos…

I’m going to continue to things on my instagram (@alligatrrr) and on Substack in their notes section.

So if you’d like some additional inspiration before the next iteration of this newsletter, you know where to find me.

For now,

Alli

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.

Dear friends,

There is a strange sense of deja vu in preparing and sending out this email. We’ve been here before, but somehow this time feels different.

The opposite of starting with a bang

I am writing these words at 11pm - barely sneaking this email out before the end of today. But it was important to me to launch this on the new moon - it felt like a form of keeping a promise to both my past and future selves.

Things got a bit derailed this week by extra days of having my daughter at home and coming down with a vomiting bug (ugh). And of course, there were miniature disasters that preceded those, meaning that my attempts to have everything done nice and early to prevent 11th hour (literally) scrambling were all in vain.

And yet…

Here it is. The first video. It is happening this year - I can feel it in my bones.

Because sometimes the way to make things happen is not to obsess over a masterpiece, it’s to forge ahead in whatever capacity we can manage when life puts obstacles in our path.

Embracing duality

This month we’ll be exploring writing through two lenses: Prose (embodying clarity) and Poetry (embodying mystery).

The whole premise of The Total Artist is to identify a duality within each of the disciplines we will explore, and lean into those opposites - stretching ourselves as far as possible.

The goal is to appreciate the expansiveness of the possibilities within that discipline - and within ourselves - by consciously stretching outside of habits and comfort zones.

Saying what we mean, meaning what we say

The next fortnight is an invitation to immerse yourself in prose and consider the quality of clarity.

This is a moment to see how deeply we can make our words mean what they say - and to look for these qualities in the world around us.

To ask:

• Can I make it truer?

• Can I make it braver?

• Can I make it simpler?

Creative Prompt 1: Prose and Clarity

This creative prompt is designed to carry you through the next two weeks of art and life. I’ll also be sending out some followup inspiration to keep you going, and sharing my own creative work and discoveries!

Your creative task:

Choose a project of writing in prose, and challenge yourself to embody clarity as effectively as possible.

Your life prompt:

How does it feel to move through your life with clarity as your guiding intention?

Not sure what project to choose?

Here’s a few ideas for the creative project if you’re struggling to decide what you want to do:

• Short story

• Letter to someone important to you

• Life mission statement

• Personal essay that retells a memory

• Project summary for a grant proposal

In this video…

• Writing as a tool for containing complexity

• The importance of capturing our experience and creating a reflective space

• Focusing on form of language (prose/poetry) over content (fiction/nonfiction)

• The dance of duality

• The challenge of truth-telling - even to ourselves

• Sidestepping subtext

• Balancing kindness and honesty

Looking for extra inspiration?

If you’d like some bits of extra inspiration during this fortnight, I’ll be posting things on my instagram (@alligatrrr) and on Substack in their notes section.

So feel free to dip in if you’re looking for some additional thoughts on this creative discipline in the next couple of weeks.

For now,

Alli

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.

TLDR: You will NOT be charged for being on this email list, unless you take the extra step to sign up as a paid subscriber. (You can still get most of Total Artist for free!)

I got a note this morning that made me realise that my email yesterday left things unclear about what turning on paid subscriptions means. Sorry about that!

(I’ve spent so much time on Substack that it’s easy to forget these features probably aren’t clear for folks who aren’t as familiar with the platform.)

Yesterday, I mentioned that I’m going to activate the option for people who would like to pay to support this newsletter. (Up to this point, I’ve kept this feature completely disabled.) This means there is the option to put some work behind a paywall.

What does this mean for you?

• If you do nothing, you will continue on this newsletter’s FREE tier

• For folks who want to opt in to supporting this work financially, there will be an option for people to pay

• Finally there is an extra tier for folks who want to contribute at a higher level

I’ll still be offering free content - including material from The Total Artist.

I know times are tough for a lot of folks out there, and people are warmly welcomed to continue as readers at whatever level works for them.

And I hope it goes without saying, you would NEVER be charged without your knowledge and consent.

For most people, nothing is going to change. You don’t need to do anything.

If you have any questions or concerns feel free to drop me a line. :-)

For now,

Alli

Hello friends,

When I was a kid, my mother loved recounting the story of Thomas Edison trying to build a lightbulb.

It was a laborious process, going through hundreds of designs.

In her retelling, Edison was asked how it felt to have failed so many times. (The number of times depending on her mood - 700, 10,000, who knows!)

His response?

“I haven’t failed ten thousand times - I have discovered ten thousand ways NOT to make a lightbulb.”

The point was, each of those efforts brought him closer to the model that would eventually succeed - a valuable reminder that things rarely succeed on the first attempt.

Failure as feeling our way through

That story has been on my mind a lot recently.

It’s been years since I first started developing The Total Artist: An Adventure in Expressive Living - if you are currently a subscriber to this newsletter, there is a good chance you’ve experienced part of this!

I’ve played with a few iterations of putting this work out into the world. Repeatedly, I’ve ended up derailed by big life events: things like bereavement or serious illness.

There are times it’s made me think maybe I should give up on this project. Maybe I have bitten off more than I can chew, or have a subconscious that is secretly in rebellion that doesn’t want to stick with it.

But I believe there is a reason I am still consumed by this idea, which contextualises all these false starts. They are discoveries along the path of how not to do it, so that I can find the way that feels right.

It’s really not so different from making art, is it? Once inspiration arrives, it generally takes multiple tries (often falling flat on our faces) to actually bring it to life. I have pieces I have lived with for over a decade because they haven’t ripened yet.

With The Total Artist, I keep feeling:

The execution has been flawed, but the idea is solid.

I take it as an encouraging sign that each time I’ve attempted this project, I’ve gotten a little bit further along the path before things fizzled out. This seems to suggest that I am at least heading in the right direction.

And there are always treasures along the path of our abandoned attempts. Slowly but surely, I’ve been building the skills (hello, basic video editing!) that I think will let me finally bring it to fruition in the way that I’ve imagined.

And so, with humility and hope, I am bringing this project back for 2026.

The Total Artist 2026 - What’s new!

I’ll be reviving The Total Artist with a few twists that I think will make it more sustainable for me, and also more useful for the people who are joining me in the experiment as well.

1. Switching to fortnightly newsletters. Instead of trying to send out a detailed weekly newsletter, these will come out every two weeks. This will give me a bit more space to develop quality material on each topic (and a buffer to stay on schedule if life gets chaotic in the meantime!).

2. Inspiration mini-doses on Instagram & Substack notes. In the space between these newsletters, I’m going to be making mini videos to share on Instagram. This is a chance to capture passing thoughts about art-making and small steps along the journey with each medium we’re exploring in a way that is more lightweight and flexible. (And my plan is also to put these on Substack notes for the people who want to avoid Instagram - so watch this space!)

3. Keeping lots of free content, while turning on paid subscriptions. I’ve been hesitant to put on paid subscriptions for this newsletter in the past, even though people have pledged to subscribe without me even asking. (To you kind souls, thank you!!!) But I think it’s time. This support will help me to safeguard the time and space needed to do this properly, so I am going to enable this option for those who would like to support this work.

4. And starting today, a little preview! Which leads us to…

Artist’s Advent - daily creative inspiration for December

During this advent season, I’m going to be running an Artist’s Advent on my Instagram. If you follow me at @alligatrrr, you’ll get a daily dose of creative inspiration. (And experimenting with sharing on Substack as well.)

The goal is to get us warmed up and ready to tackle The Total Artist experiment in the new year!

Hopefully this will be a fun way to stay connected to creativity during a time when the days are short, life is busy, and headspace can be hard to find.

Finally, a little peek at what I’ve been up to in my artistic life…

Although I’ve been quiet on this newsletter, I have nevertheless been busily making art, so I thought I’d share details from a few recent projects.

I’ve contributed some poems the Koestler Arts: Night Owls and Abstractions exhibit at the Southbank Centre. It’s an amazing exhibition curated by Inua Ellams that showcases the art of people within the criminal justice system. It’s FREE(!) and running through 14 December, so if you happen to be in the area, I really recommend checking it out. (The poems don’t have names attached - to match the paintings - so see if you can guess which ones are mine!)

I fulfilled a bucket-list dream of singing Carmina Burana with the London Chorus - amidst a choir of 400 people at the Royal Albert Hall no less!

My songwriting partner Bella Barlow and I have revived our Christmas Cabaret - we will be performing this Sunday 7 December at Crazy Coqs. The show is sold out, but if there are any returned tickets they will put them on the website! (If you want to be sure to hear about our Barlow & Smith events, in the future, our mailing list is here.)

Thank you for sticking with me this far.

In the months to come, there are some personal essays I’d like to write about what’s happened in my life during the time I’ve been quiet on here.

But in the meantime, please know that I’m grateful to you for reading and supporting my work.

I do firmly believe - art is more fun when we make it together. Thanks for being part of my community. :-)

For now,

Alli

Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

Hello friends,

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently about how we move with the tides of life. Just existing as a human being seems to throw up an endless parade of surprises.

I realise that my perspective is skewed, but this duet with the unexpected seems like it is only magnified by the experiences of parenthood and making a career as a freelance artist.

I know I’m not alone in wondering these things… How do I maintain a commitment to the long term projects that matter to me, while making sure I am still responding to the day to day needs of life?

There is more to say on this. But for now, while I’m working on setting up the life infrastructure that supports those bigger projects - ahem, Total Artist - I am making space for some work that feels shorter, more immediate, and more present.

Which brings me to the subject of this email…

✨ Pay-What-You-Can Poetry (an August mini-experiment!)

I love writing poetry for specific people and moments, and this feels like an amazing opportunity to do just that.

You can commission a poem for yourself or for someone else. Here’s a few examples:

• Perhaps you want something for an important event: a wedding, a birthday, a memorial service, an anniversary

• Maybe you want a tribute to a place you love

• Or you might want to capture a memory from a loved one (or yourself)

• You can also just be silly and offer a prompt from the events of everyday life - like, say, defrosting the freezer or accidentally feeding the pigeons

• The possibilities are endless!

The key thing - I only have five slots available. So if you’d like to book, be quick!

📝 How it works

1. Book a slot via the Google Form at this link:
   👉 https://forms.gle/h4DUDB2vmzDv4iE17

2. After you receive your booking confirmation, I’ll follow up separately with the details on how to send me your poem inspiration. This can be anything you like - a written explanation, a single word, a chaotic voicenote, a photo - whatever works for you.

3. You have one week to send me your idea.

4. I will write you a poem and send it by the end of August!

5. After you receive the poem, you can tell me how much you’d like to pay (or not!), and I’ll send you a link for that amount.

💸 What does ‘pay-what-you-can’ mean?

You're welcome to pay whatever you can — truly, no questions asked. If it's helpful, here's a suggested sliding scale to guide you, but please feel free to choose whatever feels manageable and right for you.

• £0–150 – Things are tight right now; this is a stretch, but you still want to support creative work.

• £150–300 – You’re managing your finances and can cover essentials with care.

• £300–500 – You have financial ease and want to sustain independent artists.

• If none of these fit your situation but you feel moved to commission a poem, you’re welcome too. Everyone is welcome.

📌 A few important caveats

• It’s limited to one slot per person to make sure more people get a chance.

• You have to get me your inspiration information within a week, or I won’t be able to deliver your poem on time!

• This is a poem written on the topic of your suggestion, but I retain the copyright. This means that the poem is for your personal use (not commercial), and I keep the right to publish or distribute this poem in the future. This lets me keep control of my creative work. (You know Taylor Swift’s battle for her masters? This is that on a smaller scale!)

• While I may share the poem publicly, I’m very happy to keep any inspiration details you send private, and you can remain anonymous if you prefer.

• If you ask me to do something I feel like I can’t execute for personal or moral reasons, I will let you know, but the challenge of variety is part of the fun.

• While I cannot guarantee that you will like the poem, I promise to do my best to honour the inspiration that you send.

Let’s write some poetry!

If this isn’t for you, but you know someone who might like this, please feel free to share!

(And if you’re signed up to my mailing list, you’ll be the first to hear if I offer Pay-What-You-Can Poetry again in the future.)

I’m really looking forward to this dose of new inspiration. :-)

For now,

Alli

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

This is the view from where I am lying on the sofa. I moved house today, and I am too tired to get up to take a better picture. But excited for the new chapter ahead…

There has been a lot going on: a 5* sellout cabaret, flying to Denver to clean out my mother's things, moving house, and helping to organise the memorial service of my writing mentor (just to name a few recent events).

Everything is a little chaotic. I actually recorded a new total artist video surrounded by my mother's books,band was editing it in the airport but they called my flight before I could finish. So it is still languishing on my computer, but hopefully will be with you soon (pending wifi installation in the new flat). At the moment, I need to go and scrub out the refrigerator drawer before I fall asleep.

BUT! Before I forget! The reason I am writing to you in my delirium is I have a discount to share!

Our Barlow & Smith Beautiful World cabaret is transferring!! We will be at the Charing Cross Theatre on Tuesday 8 July at 7.30pm, and we are so excited to have the chance to share the show again.

During the show I will be sharing songs I wrote with my composing partner Bella Barlow, some poems, and doing some singing. There are some amazing guests joining us. (And we are on the same night as West End legend Janie Dee who is organising the series, so if you stick around for 9.30 you can catch her show too!)

They are running an early bird promotion, so if you book by Friday you will get a discount!

Booking link is here:

https://charingcrosstheatre.co.uk/theatre/beautiful-world-cabaret

More dispatches soon from the land of boxes and packing tape…

And as we all know from seeing kids in action, nothing can get the imagination flowing quite as powerfully as an empty cardboard box. 😀

For now,

Alli

Hello friends,

Things have been VERY busy over the last few weeks, with some very exciting stuff coming up!

Here’s what’s been going on…

Hello, instagram!

I revived my Instagram after leaving it dormant for 8 years (I know!). People rightfully complain about the time drain that social media can be, but honestly I’ve found it really inspiring to get back on. I’ve loved having the opportunity to see more of what other people are doing and to share some of my own fun/creative moments. If you’d like to connect you can find me at @alligatrrr . (And if you send me your handle, I’d love to follow you back!)

Come to the cabaret

My songwriting partner (Bella Barlow) and I have been putting SO much time and love into preparing for our upcoming cabaret at Crazy Coqs! If you’re on our email list for Barlow & Smith you have already been hearing loads about this, but I wanted to be sure to share it here too.

We’ve been exploring our back catalogue through the lens of Janie Dee’s Beautiful World cabaret series, and it’s made me look at some of our songs in a different light.

We have some absolutely incredible West End guests (pictured above) coming along to help us share them. We rehearsed together yesterday, and they absolutely blew me away!

I’m particularly excited about premiering a new song that no one has ever heard before, which we wrote specially for this cabaret.

This is our first London cabaret in more than seven years (and if you are noticing that this chimes roughly with when my Instagram also went quiet - and when I became a mother - you are correct!).

Given everything that’s happened over the past several years, this feels a little bit like a comeback. (Not that I’m putting that pressure on it - so perhaps homecoming would be a better word?)

It would mean SO much to have a big, warm crowd cheering us on, so if you can come along, please do join us!

Booking details

Monday 26 May at 7pm
Crazy Coqs, Brasserie Zedel, 21 Sherwood St, London W1F 7ED
(Tube: Picadilly Circus)

Link: https://www.brasseriezedel.com/events/beautiful-world-cabaret-with-barlow-smith/

Book tickets

Seeking the horizon

I’m also really delighted that I’ll have a poem printed in The Horizonary, which has been created by Simon Adamczewski, bringing together poetry and visual art.

I’ll be attending the opening night to read some poems (mostly my own, but also one by my friend Erica Hesketh, a brilliant writer whose debut collection In The Lily Room is coming out this month).

If you fancy some poetry with lovely people, it would be great to see you there!

Event details

Friday 23 May 2025 from 6-8pm
hArtslane Gallery
17 Hart's Ln, London SE14 5UP

At the moment, most of my energy is going into these live events, but we’ll soon be back to our regularly scheduled programming on this newsletter!

Sending you all lots of love for your own creative adventures in the meantime.

For now,

Alli

One year ago today, my mother’s spirit left her body.

I knew this anniversary was creeping up, but it still caught me off guard. She was an extraordinary woman, and it is still hard to believe she is gone.

This is a poem I wrote to share at her celebration of life, and it felt right to share it today.

I miss her so much, but I know that if she is everywhere, that means she is also with me.

Everywhere

The night you left this world,
the winds blew wildly,
making the trees dance
in the small hours of the morning.

There was a powerful gust
in that private moment, when
your breath left your body,
becoming one with the wind.

When I miss you,
this is where I look:
to the breeze -
tenderly brushing my cheek,
or tickling my bare ankles;
pushing me fiercely,
or playfully whirling along.

It reminds me that
where I see nothing,
there is in fact something.
The air is alive with
stardust and scent,
sound waves of music,
and unending light.
The only true nothingness
lies in the black hole of despair.
But that is not where you live.

When we no longer need our bodies,
some people like to stay in one place,
rooted in sacred ground;
others like to go everywhere,
flying with the lightness of ash.

You always returned home,
but you had a traveller's heart.

I look up at the feathered clouds,
their edges gilt with golden light,
and I wonder: have you already
danced among them?
Have you visited every country?
Or plunged into the ocean's mysterious depths?
Have you set your course for the far reaches
of some distant galaxy?
Or is that is your next adventure?

Perhaps it is enough for now to simply
walk alongside me;
reminding me, as many times as needed,
that as you wished,
you are everywhere.

-A.C. Smith

Subscribe now

Image: Created via ChatGPT with the following prompt: create an image of a tree dancing in a wild wind in the hours just before dawn

The hard stuff and the good stuff

Thank you for all the kind, supportive messages I got after my last post. It was good to take a bit of time to move through grief and focus on some of the practical baggage that inevitably accompanies this.

The hard stuff and the good stuff often sit side by side. And my time away hasn’t all been heavy - I’ve been getting prepped for some exciting, upcoming creative projects (I’m going to be hosting a cabaret and singing some Barlow & Smith songs at a cabaret at Crazy Coqs on Monday 26 May, and also teaching Sondheim at the Poetry School - now rescheduled to July…)

These are lovely things that have buoyed my spirits. But I have missed this experiment, and all of you, and it is nice to be back!

We are now in our new moon energy and today is International Dance Day - so it is time to DANCE!

Tuning into Intuition

For this moon cycle, we’re going to be exploring the duality of what arises from within ourselves (intuition) alongside the power of creating with others (collaboration).

The thing about intuition is - it cannot be premeditated. We cannot plan it out and execute it according to preconceived expectations. Intuition arises in the moment. It is impervious to the demands of logic or social acceptability. It is the thing within us that drives us / pulls us / calls us to pursue our own unique creative path.

Lots of artistic forms make use of improvisation, but there is something that feels particularly pure about exploring it within the discipline of dance. In dance, we are entrusted with engaging our whole bodies to create, and to allow for a kind of flow or abandon that is not achievable in the same way when working with tools, words, notes, or other materials.

All we have to express with is ourselves.

The thing about improvisation that I find so magical is that it gives us the opportunity to surprise even ourselves.

There are treasures buried within all of us, and one of the best ways to unlock them is to get into a state of flow and just see what happens.

Are you willing to be seen?

The biggest inspiration for this week’s creative reflections is an article called How To Dance Like Somebody’s Watching, that explores the power of being able to release our inhibitions.

Personally, I find this really, really challenging. More often than not, I find myself feeling awkward and uncoordinated.

Sometimes, it ends up in a situation where I am performing the role of a woman moving freely, rather than actually feeling the kind of release that comes from genuine lack of self-consciousness.

How do I look? I wonder. And in that moment, the magic is lost - because I start experiencing myself from the outside rather than remaining embodied in my own experience.

But this is a skill that can be built, and comfort zones can be stretched and massaged to enable more possibility and freedom.

For me, dance is the perfect lens to bring to the foreground the places where I fall into comparison, self-judgment, self-protection, and internalised expectations of what ‘appropriate’ appearance, behaviour, and movement looks like.

The thing is - beyond the walls of ‘appropriate’, there is so much more waiting to be discovered. And when we do unlock those moments where intuition is truly taking the lead, regardless of what anyone else thinks, it can feel almost like flying.

Creative Prompt: Unlocking movement

This creative prompt is designed to carry you through the next two weeks of art and life.

Your creative task:

Make stuff up! See if you can find a way to dance that is all your own - something you find through what feels good in your body, instead of copying a movement you have seen someone else do.

Your life prompt:

Can you let your body make the decisions for this fortnight? What happens if the head follows the intuition, rather than having logic lead the way?

Some ideas for embracing dance

Just a few more suggestions on unconventional places to find movement.

• Close the blinds, turn up the music, and let loose dancing wildly around your bedroom

• Choose one part of your body and let it lead the way (ex: elbows, left ear). Try to pay attention to a part you might otherwise ignore.

• If you are in a public place where dancing normally would not be welcome (the post office, the bus stop), see how subtly you can dance so that you feel the movement, but no one else notices you are dancing (ex: tapping toes inside shoes, gently nodding your head)

• Play with tempo - what happens if you stretch an everyday movement faster or slower than usual (ex: making coffee where each step becomes a luxurious stretch)

• Watch a video of dancing with and without sound on. Can you let those mirror neurons fire and imagine yourself into the dancer’s experience? Is it easier with or without the sound?

This month our task is to look inward towards our intuition, so cultivating elements of dance in everyday life is probably more fruitful than breaking out a pair of pointe shoes (although of course that is welcome too!).

In this video…

This video introduces our music month, and then explores the qualities of voice and how it communicates our essential self.

This touches on:

• Why this is the month I have been dreading the most!

• Allowing ourselves to look foolish

• Inspiration from the Harvard Professor who worked with Beyoncé

• Dance as a process of being seen

• Pursuing artistic abandon

• Moving gently when stretching our comfort zones

• My personal plans to make more space for dance in my life

For now,

Alli

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.

In this past week, I unexpectedly lost someone very dear to me. I'm taking it slow at the moment but will be back soon.

If you are already thinking on your own about instruments and tools, and the role these play in fostering our creativity, I look forward to hearing any discoveries you would like to share when I’m back…

For now,

Alli

Hi folks,

Just wanted to share that next month I’m going to be teaching a new workshop with the Poetry School, as part of the Southbank Centre’s New Poets Collective initiative.

We’re going to look at Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics through the lens of poetry, using Into The Woods as a case study.

Why you should join:

This will be a great chance for poets and lyricists (particularly those who are interested in crossing over from one discipline to the other) to gather some new tools for completing their work.

But even if you are just a musical theatre fan and want to understand Sondheim’s work more deeply, there will be something for you there.

This workshop is online, so there are no geographical restrictions for taking part.

How to sign up

Tickets are £55, but there are concessions available for folks who need them.

Because the course is interactive, there is a limit to the number of spots available, so advance booking is strongly recommended.

Here’s the booking link - hopefully see you there!

https://poetryschool.com/courses/into-the-woods-a-poetic-exploration-of-stephen-sondheim/

For now,

Alli

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

Hi folks,

This week’s video got a bit delayed by a tummy bug that spent most of the past week rampaging through our home. But fortunately everyone has recovered and I am back at my desk!

In this video…

We go a little bit deeper with how singing can inspire us to look towards the creative possibilities of our own bodies and how to express our authentic selves.

This touches on:

• Singing styles as a reflection of the place where trends and personal authenticity meet

• Singing is air, and the body is an instrument

• The places we can choose what our voice sounds like (example: Raye’s Tiny Desk Concert just after minute 16) and experiment with different sounds

• Effort vs ease in singing

• Discovering our instrument as an alternative to moulding our sound

• The wisdom of Chloe Goodchild’s The Naked Voice: prioritising expression over performance and looking for the silence after the sound

• Ease as the thing that paves the way towards a sustainable practice

• There are always opportunities for art: if you’re breathing anyway, you might as well sing!

Singing in the grocery aisle

I’ll leave you with one little story about something unexpected that happened today…

The song I mentioned in the last video - R.E.M.’s Shiny Happy People - came on this morning while I was doing my grocery shop. It brought me back to my warmest memories of my mother - and I found myself singing my way down the aisle because it made me so happy that I didn’t really care who was listening.

This was particularly welcome, because the night before I had a sad/upsetting dream about my mom. I’ve been lucky that since she died most of my dreams about her have been nice ones, but this one brought me right back to the difficult parts of her illness. It centered around her sadness about leaving this world before she was ready, a grief I found myself unable to soothe within the dream, just as I had been in life.

After I woke up, the grey cloud of sadness lingered.

Until this song started playing.

It felt somehow like she knew I needed it this morning, and she played it just for me.

Even though my mother has moved on to whatever adventure lies beyond life, the music she gave me is still with me - and through it, so is she. It’s amazing how deeply interlaced music can be with our emotional memories. What a gift.

For now,

Alli

DISCLAIMER FOR THE NEW FOLKS! If you are just joining us now: It is never too late to join in with this experiment! If you’d like to have more art in your life just jump in the river midstream. You don’t have to have completed any of the prior sessions to be able to join us now. Plus the beauty of a year is that it is cyclical so there is always the option to double back at the end to any earlier topics you’d like to revisit. :-)

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.

DISCLAIMER FOR THE NEW FOLKS! If you are just joining us now: It is never too late to join in with this experiment! If you’d like to have more art in your life just jump in the river midstream. You don’t have to have completed any of the prior sessions to be able to join us now. Plus the beauty of a year is that it is cyclical so there is always the option to double back at the end to any earlier topics you’d like to revisit. :-)

The inescapable power of melody

I remember the first song I wrote.

Melody has a way of worming its way into our brain on such a deep level it can stay with us all our lives. I still remember the melody and words of this song decades later, when it would certainly have fallen away had I not sung it over and over again.

I was three years old. It was called ‘some for singing, some for non-’. This masterpiece consisted of that single line sung over and over, moving in and out of a major key (‘singing’!) and minor mode (‘non’!). This song was inspired by my recent discovery of the terms ‘smoking’ and ‘non-smoking’ (perhaps more of a not topic in the 80’s?). To my mind, the same must apply to singing?

But looking at it today, I feel like everyone deserves a chance to sit in the ‘singing’ section of life. Because it is integral to who we are.

Have you forgotten your right to make music?

Science has explored the ways that human beings seem to be wired for music. Indeed, for the duration of human history, music has been woven through our lives as an essential part of how we create culture and forge identity. Music can steady us, provide a group rhythm, and keeps us going when we would fatigue more easily, as in the tradition of marches, singing at sports matches, and working songs like sea shanties. Music has always been there for us as humans at the pivotal moments of strong emotion, when we protest oppression, worship the divine, or court a new love, or grieve a lost loved one.

Music speaks a language that goes beyond words or images - one that is available to every human being simply by existing.

We live in a time where there has never been more music at our fingertips through the magic of the internet. Yet strangely, most of us have fewer opportunities to be participants in making music ourselves.

This month is a chance to rediscover the power of music in our lives, and explore how these discoveries can expand the depth of our experience of the world.

Month 3: Music

Friday marked the new moon, and with it, our move into the month we will spend considering the power of music, and what this can unlock in our lives.

There are always so many possibilities to explore within each of these disciplines, and there were other promising prospects. For example, rhythm and melody, or sound and silence.

However, the duality that spoke most powerfully to me was that of Voice (self) and Instruments (tools). Because art exists at the place where these things meet - where our essential selves come into contact with the world.

When we make art, or live our lives, we are always combining our essential selves and tool-based skills to greater or lesser degrees.

Voice is an amazing reminder that we can create art with nothing more than air. With breath alone, depending on how it passes through our vocal cords, we can create beauty.

There are also things we can only express with the aid of objects, sounds that can only be made with the aid of an instrument. (I would argue that the craftsmanship that goes into creating a musical instrument is an art on par with the magic that is created by the musician.) Tools/instruments unlock expressive possibilities we cannot access on our own.

This month is a chance to think about how we are using tools to express our inner lives, how tools can call us to explore deeper aspects of our artistic selves, and what it means to know and own our voices.

Creative Prompt: Voice and Self

This creative prompt is designed to carry you through the next two weeks of art and life.

Your creative task:

Sing at every opportunity (even if you haven’t done this in years!). Where do you feel the vibrations in your body? When does your voice feel the most vibrant, uninhibited and alive?

Your life prompt:

Where are the moments you feel the voice of your essential self speaking? How loud does it have to speak to get your attention?

If this all feels too intimidating - other options!

Here are some other ways to get started building a relationship to music if singing feels a bit too much like jumping in the deep end.

• Build a playlist of other people’s music

• Try just humming along quietly to a song you love

• Speak lyrics instead of singing them and try to really feel the rhythm

• Tap your feet, clap your hands, get music in your body

• Lip sync in the mirror pretending that another singer’s voice is yours

Even just nudging the edge of our comfort zone (rather than jumping straight into something that feels risky) can yield all kinds of exciting creative discoveries.

Just a gentle reminder that the reflective process is as important (in some ways, more important) than what you actually create. So find a way to capture the things you are noticing if you can.

In this video…

This video introduces our music month, and then explores the qualities of voice and how it communicates our essential self.

This touches on:

• The relationship between our essential selves and the tools we use to create

• How we can overcome self-consciousness about using our voices (your voice is a birthright!)

• How I lost my voice, and how I found it again

• Why the way our voices feel can be even more important than how they sound

• The ingredients of making music that compels people (hint: expressiveness trumps a beautiful sound)

• My mother’s legacy of music, based on the belief everyone can (and deserves to) sing

• My experience of witnessing firsthand the way our relationship with music starts in utero (as my baby danced during rehearsals!)

• Where to start if singing makes you nervous (listening to the sound of your speaking voice’s natural musicality, build a playlist, put on music at home)

• The power of music to respond to - and also shape - our moods and give structure to our life’s rhythms

• The empowerment in raising your voice, and becoming part of something bigger

Here are a couple of links to people I mention in the video - the wonderful singing teacher Jane Streeton and the song that started my schooldays as a child.

For now,

Alli

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.

We are coming to the end of our month spent thinking about photography, exploring the qualities of stillness and movement through the lenses of still photographs and film. Here are some final reflections, and a video interview with Julia Forsman offering ideas for those wishing to go deeper with photography.

Frame rate and allowing gaps for the imagination

Film appears continuous, but this is a magic trick, since it is actually constructed of a series of rapidly changing still images.

The frame rate refers to how many images we have per second. If there are a lot, the quality of the image is smooth and the change is imperceptible.

However, sometimes we intentionally use a lower frame rate, with fewer images per second, to give the work a jerky, unpredictable quality. (My daughter is currently obsessed with Rosé and Bruno Mars’s A.P.T. - and to be honest, I am as well! - and I think this music video is more visually interesting because of those gaps.)

Ultimately, the choice of frame rate has to do with the quality of the movement we want to create - is it smooth and fluid, or abrupt and startling?

Those bits where it feels like we are skipping as we move from image to image remind me a bit of blinking.

I feel like those gaps almost become a sacred space, as the place where the audience has to use their own imaginations to make the work whole.

The film Moonlight embeds the idea of these gaps into its very structure. We see the main character at three pivotal moments on his journey from boyhood to adulthood. Each time we encounter him, he is radically different, and we have to infer the life journey that has happened in the meantime.

It is never possible to connect all the dots for an audience. The task is simply to be intentional about the places where we are asking them to make the imaginative leap rather than providing continuity.

Film as an engine of intimacy

Film is incredible at giving a sense of epic action - this is the stuff that superhero films are made of! Panning the camera to take in a vast landscape or immense battle can be awe inspiring.

But what I often find even more incredible about film recordings is the other extreme of intimacy - the way that it lets us get closer than we can in theatre, or in daily life. We are just a breath away from the performers, their faces blown up larger than reality, taking in every nuance of their experience.

Here’s an experiment to try out as you’re encountering filmed material: what makes you feel closer to a character: looking through their eyes (where the camera takes on their perspective), or looking into their eyes (where the camera is trained on the subject)?

Often, I find that looking closely at the character helps me understand them much more deeply than trying to take on their perspective. Which is continually surprising to me - surely the closest we can get is seeing through their eyes, no?

However, for many of us, the power of mirroring another and witnessing emotion adds a greater sense of closeness.

Film is an essential part of our artistic practice and lives because it can be a powerful way of sharing our experience, even if we don’t consider ourselves filmmakers.

Case in point: this week I watched a fifteen minute YouTube video of a young piano tuner reviving a damaged instrument in the Chicago airport.

It was interesting seeing how the piano worked, but the reason I kept watching was to take in the tuner’s experience: the little side conversation with the woman who stopped to talk, the worry about whether he would catch his flight, the focus as he cleaned the keys and determination in his voice.

Film is a tool for letting people get closer to us and to our work.

Our ability to generate intimacy is directly linked to our willingness to be fully seen.

Sometimes we let ourselves be seen through images or metaphor - this does not always have to be a literal interpretation of standing in front of a camera.

Our best tool for connection as artists and as people is as simple and as difficult as not hiding, and welcoming the gaze of others rather than shying away from it.

What we can learn from blind photographers

This week, I have been returning to some articles I had clipped about the incredible work of visually impaired photographers.

This profile of Ian Treherne explores how he works with a narrow field of vision (5% of his vision remains) to create powerful images.

An article from the Guardian excerpts selections from the book The Blind Photographer, showing a diversity of powerful images.

In art and in our lives, it’s easy to fixate on our limitations and the things that stop us from creating. But these images are such an amazing reminder that with a combination of determination and support, we can often find our way around the barriers that might seem insurmountable at first glance.

I know so many artists (including myself, from time to time) who expend huge amounts of energy cataloguing their limitations. These become a sort of proof of our own inadequacies - the reasons why we will never achieve ‘success’, or make the work of our dreams, or win glory and respect, and so on.

It is hard to imagine a more challenging obstacle to creating photography than blindness. And yet, as we can see, it is possible to create gorgeous images with this access barrier.

I would argue that in these instances, the blindness enriches the work, because it enables these artists to look at the world in a different way, which in turn, enables all of us to see things from a new perspective.

When we are creating with our full selves, challenges and assets can become interchangeable.

The things you think are your limitations are the very same things that will make your work unique.

In this video…

This video does something a bit different! Since I am not a photographer, I wanted to offer some deeper reflections from someone who makes their primary work in this discipline.

So I sat down to talk with my friend Julia Forsman about her work as a photographer, and tips for those who want to go deeper.

This video was actually recorded in 2024, but I didn’t release it since I had to discontinue last year’s programme, so I am sending it out now instead!

This video touches on:

• The way photography allows us to connect to people when we don’t speak the same language

• The fascination of watching light

• The ways we can bring our families into their work, creating a legacy they are part of

• The advice that Julia would give to her younger self (TLDR: be confident!)

• How a broken camera helped Julia learn more about her craft

• The way the joy of taking photos of people and the fear of asking their permission to do so sit side by side

• The power of creating from good intentions (inspiration from Chris Killip)

If you want to see more of Julia’s work, you can follow her on Instagram at @arockandasoftplace.

What’s coming next…

In just a few days, we will be moving on to our next category - music!

Thanks so much for joining me on this creative adventure. I look forward to seeing what awaits us!

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.

Hello friends,

Thanks for your patience about sending this newsletter out a bit late! I was out of the country for a week on what felt like the trip of a lifetime with my best friend from Uni. But I am now back at my computer and able to share the video I was creating for the full moon, moving into a new aspect of our consideration of the possibilities of photography.

In this video…

We are shifting our consideration from still photography to the possibilities of film/cinema, exploring the creative possibilities this can unlock.

This touches on:

• How pictures freeze time, while film connects space and time back together

• Taking some quick inspiration from the world of physics: playing with speed, time, or space/distance to gain new perspective

• How time and change are connected, and what this shows us about our own relationship to these things

• Acknowledging that resisting change can be as important as accepting it

• Letting movement be a catalyst for action, and unblocking the things in the way of our impulse to create

• Recognising your natural internal pace and cultivating more opportunities to inhabit it

• Embracing imperfection to share work in progress

If you are making any interesting discoveries as you consider what film can offer to your life, I would love to hear them!

Access Support: If you have access needs that I’m not currently meeting, please do drop me a line! (The best email is contact@ac-smith.com.) I’d really like to make this project available to anyone who wants to participate.