to blow the dust from my eyes. I try to write and patch the ship to keep it afloat but Sanin’s shapeless monsters are stirring on the sea bed. Work in the Arts has taken a battering, our leaders talk of fantastic schemes to keep the virus at bay – though we all know they’ll come to nothing – and we bicker and snipe in our dealings on the international stage. I’ve never known a world crisis like this, never needed to pull something out of the bag more than now with my own work and the path I’ve taken. Words, don’t fail me now.
