Storytelling
Much of what I've done in life falls under the broad heading of 'storytelling.'
Not just the stories I write, or the art of oral storytelling (about which I am gradually learning more), but storytelling in the theatre, the oral and life history training and work I've undertaken, and listening to (and recounting, in many ways, through information, policy and consultancy work) the stories of people needing and receiving treatment, care, and support. Listening is sometimes a part of storytelling that's overlooked, but having a story to share means finding someone with whom to share it.
I'm interested in storytelling from many angles:
the stories we make up;
our storytelling voices (our physical voice; our 'voice' as writers);
the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves - and their impact (especially negative stories);
the narratives we attach to other people and events - in order that we can tell a story we understand;
and the stories that other people tell about us - the good, the bad, the flattering, and the downright untrue!
A few years back, I went to an exhibition of prehistoric art at the British Museum. Some of the figures and 'puppets'
were lit as if by a fire: you could see the shadows they might have cast.Thinking about how those artefacts
might have been used to tell stories, especially at night, was fascinating.
In late 2017 and early 2018 I did a course in autobiographical storytelling at the International School of Storytelling (I seriously recommend their work if oral storytelling interests you). I did this in part because, to me, it feels fairer asking others to share their stories with me if I'm also sharing my stories with a wider audience. (In other words, I shouldn't expect from others what I'm not prepared to do myself.) In the final weekend, we gave a public performance in Forest Row (East Sussex) - in which I told this story, about me and Daisies.
I've made another story into a photo film - Beige. This time it's fiction - I wrote this story. It's read by (then) 92 year old Barbara.
In October 2018, at the Salisbury Literary Festival, I told another true life (or autobiographical) story - this one from my time working in community theatre - with the then newly formed Salisbury Story Party.
© Lorna Easterbrook 2016-2020 All Rights Reserved
Image: Front cover for 'Book of Nonsense' made by Lorna: leather and fabric on leather (with apologies to vegan readers)
Not just the stories I write, or the art of oral storytelling (about which I am gradually learning more), but storytelling in the theatre, the oral and life history training and work I've undertaken, and listening to (and recounting, in many ways, through information, policy and consultancy work) the stories of people needing and receiving treatment, care, and support. Listening is sometimes a part of storytelling that's overlooked, but having a story to share means finding someone with whom to share it.
I'm interested in storytelling from many angles:
the stories we make up;
our storytelling voices (our physical voice; our 'voice' as writers);
the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves - and their impact (especially negative stories);
the narratives we attach to other people and events - in order that we can tell a story we understand;
and the stories that other people tell about us - the good, the bad, the flattering, and the downright untrue!
A few years back, I went to an exhibition of prehistoric art at the British Museum. Some of the figures and 'puppets'
were lit as if by a fire: you could see the shadows they might have cast.Thinking about how those artefacts
might have been used to tell stories, especially at night, was fascinating.
In late 2017 and early 2018 I did a course in autobiographical storytelling at the International School of Storytelling (I seriously recommend their work if oral storytelling interests you). I did this in part because, to me, it feels fairer asking others to share their stories with me if I'm also sharing my stories with a wider audience. (In other words, I shouldn't expect from others what I'm not prepared to do myself.) In the final weekend, we gave a public performance in Forest Row (East Sussex) - in which I told this story, about me and Daisies.
I've made another story into a photo film - Beige. This time it's fiction - I wrote this story. It's read by (then) 92 year old Barbara.
In October 2018, at the Salisbury Literary Festival, I told another true life (or autobiographical) story - this one from my time working in community theatre - with the then newly formed Salisbury Story Party.
© Lorna Easterbrook 2016-2020 All Rights Reserved
Image: Front cover for 'Book of Nonsense' made by Lorna: leather and fabric on leather (with apologies to vegan readers)
