Laura Barnes

It’s a Friday afternoon in Bolton town centre, and the town sounds like any other. Close your eyes, and you’ll hear pigeons squawking and swearing at each other, teenagers speaking in tongues incomprehensible to those over 21, and a man with a selfie stick beseeching everyone to join his Instagram live. Listen more carefully, though, and you’ll hear something else: an older sound, an earthy sound. Melodies from another place and time.

Since civilization began, humanity has loved disguise. Costumes serve a myriad of purposes. They free us from the confines of our daily identities, and allow us to embody our ideal selves, even if only for a moment. The Ancient winter festival of Saturnalia used costumes as a way to disrupt social hierarchies; the Carnival masquerade balls of the Middle Ages allowed people to indulge in food and revelry without shame.

What I think About Constantly Sometimes, I think about all I could be, And then, I think of everything I should be, Then, especially then, here, and now, I am judged and represented by who I used to be, All of these parts of me, Are all apart of me, And the person who I am not, Her, the person who I am scared to be, She is all I live for, She is all I strive, and fight, and survive to not be.