Every Time We Say Goodbye

You walk into a room, in the corner stands a woman, lit in red. She glistens softly in a long white evening dress. She moves closer, there’s something about her eyes, cloudy, under some kind of spell maybe. She draws you close and places headphones on your ears gently. Pulling you to her body you dance in each others gaze, the music playing ‘Every time we say goodbye I die a little …’. Time stops and the outside world evaporates, nothing else exists except this moment, you are the only two people in the world. Strangers. Not a word has passed your lips and yet you know each other. This moment could last forever, and yet it has to end, doesn’t it.

Image by Bobby Whitaker

This piece is a one to one in the truest sense. I have performed it in Birmingham, Bristol and London. Intimate, seductive, funny and sad, to date I think this piece has been the one to provoke the strongest audience response.