Composed, performed, produced and mixed by Gaynor Perry
An act of kindness.
What is you? What is me?
Lost empress — decipher her language,
slipping in and out of consciousness.
Medicine.
Saint Dymphna’s Medicine.
Illegible handwriting, eerily crossing out;
the art of persuasion bending, flexing,
pushing, pulling.
Medicine.
Saint Dymphna’s Medicine.
An admission of guilt.
Was it you? Was it me?
Swallowed whole
by voluminous nights.
Medicine.
Saint Dymphna’s Medicine.
They keep trying to trick me,
they keep trying to scare me.
So I'm cavorting with wild bears,
embracing the chaos.
Medicine.
Saint Dymphna’s Medicine.
Seventh-century Irish princess Dymphna was just fifteen years old when her father, the Pagan King Damon, drew his sword and beheaded her because she refused to marry him after her mother’s death—or so the legend goes. She had fled the King’s horrendous advances, escaping to Geel with her confessor priest, two trusted servants, and the King’s fool. You can read more about Dymphna elsewhere; she is the patron saint of mental disorders.
While I was incubating this piece, the component parts assembled themselves like one of those push-up puppets — and there was Dymphna. I wanted to create a sanctuary: a place that is soothing, benevolent, and hopeful.
There is, of course, much more to say, but you can always watch and listen.
Millpond, St Helen's Church, Welton, East Yorkshire
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