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Light and the Senses – Writing Open Call

hangarbicocca
Image: Antony McCall installation at Hangar Bicocca

The Stove is collaborating with WagTongues for a 3-day celebration of light, writing and the spoken word at the end of November, culminating on St Andrew’s Day (Monday, November 30). This is the day of the Dumfries Christmas Lights Switch-On.

As part of the evening’s events, there will be a series of light and sound installations in some of the town’s dark closes. This is a call for submissions for writing which will form the sound element of the installations.

The theme is Light and the Senses. The submission can take any form – prose, poetry, dialogue, script, life writing etc. Submissions can be up to a maximum of 250 words, or 25 lines of poetry.

Writers of the selected pieces will be invited to record their submissions at the Stove, and the final soundtrack will be played as part of the dark closes installations. If you’re not happy recording your own voice we are able to provide someone to read for you!

Please send your submission in a single Word document, which also contains your name and full contact details to: wagtongues@aol.com

The closing date for submissions is Friday, 30 October, and selections will be made on Monday, 2 November. 

2 replies on “Light and the Senses – Writing Open Call”

Midsummer’s Day on the Nith

First light pale and white cutting through rising mist
monsters appearing in the overhanging trees
Vixen screaming calling cubs from play
shaping dreams of farm dogs
stirring to a memory of age long ago

In Midday’s haze butterflies, drowsy, delicate drift
over pools where Salmon lie
Trout and Grayling chasing newly hatched flies
bulls eye the surface
and the Heron that most angular of birds lazily,
nonchalantly watching them all

Evening sliding, slowly, softly into dusk
wild Stock perfuming the warm air
Otters with children’s eyes and old men’s whiskers chase
the Duck and it’s clutch parading their noisy regatta
and a Kingfisher, God’s promise in miniature
shimmering past.

Night, never more than nearly dark
cautious Sea Trout in one sound rising and falling
Mink that most luxurious of killers stretch, yawn
sniff the air then softly pad away,
and Bats, gentle, flying, whirling, spinning mice
make ghosts in the mist slowly filling the hollows.

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