A long time ago, in a distant land, I went to art college. The past is a strange place to visit. I was never cut out to be a fine artist and relished the opportunities to bunk off and play with my new chums in fringe theatre. The epic Forkbeard Fantasy introduced me to the Desperate Men who led me to Bristol where I stowed away on a ship of fools and bathed in magic: Stinkfoot.
This year, two of the pillars of my formative years skipped off to the astral plane. Ki Longfellow, muse and minder of Vivian Stanshall departed June 12th and now, Jon Beedell – peacefully sleeping and dreaming of skits and capers. Thank you, both.
