Diving into the Wreck - After Yeats, Elliot & Rich Voting, not voting or vote-less, shore to shore, We cannot see to row for the future Has no oars; no centre left to uphold A bridge of placards, to rebuild the world, Where blood-thin skies march long and ravens call On changing tides, where borders make waves a wall. The rights of man and woman, fall to flood With passions pealing, church bells underground. April is not the cruellest month, ‘tis May, With revolution

This poem is in response to all of the women's marches which took place around the world on January 21st 2017.

TAG already seems like it was an actual year ago, not just two weeks past. It was its usual self - hectic, social, invigorating and intense. There was the usual mix of hearditbefore and wowthatsdifferent, with a particularly refreshing twist this year due to the amount of artists present (and presenting) as well as archaeologists who don't usually consider themselves as being theoretically engaged. My session with Kim, Visualising Words, was on the middle day, in the afternoo