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The Spreading Fire

They move without line. Without time. Quietly running, expanding and transforming, spilling through space, nourished by what was there before. Fingers and tongues licking red brick and timber, man and his story.


The spreading fire resists definition, resists language – an elemental force not easily bound or held. They feed and it catches, further and further, gently breaking down old seats and structures and preparing space for recovery and renewal.


We stand beside one another in its heat. Growing tall in excitement, sweat and fear, gazing upon on old faces washed in awesome light.


To pour softness into the place of hardness.

To hold a space for souls to meet – for our hearts to leap to our mouths,

for soft walls to be parted

as our rhythm quickens and slows.


The sirens will not wail but those that witness will gasp and shake and dance in the ash.


Performed by Rob Hesp
Sisters Staff by Sisters Hope
photo: I diana lindhardt