I am definitely getting used to London public transport: I’m getting increasingly confident using it anyway. Last night, after Lyn and I had returned from our weekly food shop, and after a quick (and largely tasteless) dinner, headed out again alone. I had seen online that there was some kind of disability arts event in Newham, and, checking the map, thought it close enough for look. There was a DLR station not too far away, and, once I had never ridden the docklands light railway alone before, thought it high tim I broke that duck.

So I went, and found the place without a problem. I must admit, when I looked into the place through the window, that my first thought was ”Oh fuck, it’s a spazzfest! Let’s go home.” I was worried that it was one of those condescending, sing-for-the-cripples pieces of shit we all had to endure. Yet I have an orchestra too plug, so I went in anyway.

I soon realised how mistaken I was. It was indeed a spazzfest, but of the best sort: these crips were angry and political, and were venting their anger at the government through poetry and song. I met Penny Pepper, a first class performance poet who I now would seriously like to collaborate, and who kindly gave me a free copy of her book. I also met Mik Scarlett, who was comparing the gig, and who kindly mentioned the fact that the Paraorchestra will be on the One Show tonight (bbc1, 7pm). It was a great gig, and made me realise how much I need to get into the disability arts scene (apart from just writing and blogging, I mean). Now more than ever, disability art must be an art form of protest.

That’s why we need more events like last night: disabled people must show the world what is happening to us. We are going out shortly, so I’ll discuss this in greater depth in tomorrow’s entry, but disability art, including things like the Paraorchestra, is more important today than ever. How else can we tell the world we are suffering?