Dear Dance Marathon,

Thank you. I know we only spent a few hours together but I wanted to let you know how wonderful you are. Despite my aching calves and mysterious bruise, I miss you. You were a joy to be with. The friends I made through you might not last a lifetime but, for that one, lovely night, they meant so much. You made a team of two from strangers; we laughed, we tried and held on to each other.

At first I thought you were too good to be true and in a way I was right. Your trickery at first was subtle but once I realised the kindness in your lies I knew I had to forgive you. For some you made them feel inadequate; for others you gave them the courage to shine. And even though we floundered and fell, after knowing you for such a short time we all became champions. Even when our number was up we spurred each other on. Even when you stripped me of my purpose; an indignity which led me to the regrettable act of betraying my sister, still then, I fought on.

I saw so much through you. I witnessed amateurs evolve into experts. I saw kindness morph into competitiveness. I sensed strangers becoming friends and family turn into temporary enemies. You made me race to the finish line, flail in an attempt to regain my status, squish my sweaty body against an unknown other. And even though you may have turned me into a loser, well, I forgive you. You showed me humility; the sigh of relief in letting go of hopes of a trophy and cheering for our new, winning, friends.

So thank you Dance Marathon. Thank you for the fun, thank you for the music. Thank you for the artistry, thank you for the effort; I'm sure you must be tired so please go a take long and well deserved rest.

But know that - If we meet again - I'm on to you. And as I have already proved, I'm not above doing whatever it takes to leave our next night together as your dancing queen.

Love and very, very sweaty hugs,
Your not-so-bitter Loser.

Trinity is thinking about the future, and we want to start by hearing from the people that matter - you. We’re asking the people of Bristol to respond to the sentence ‘What I Want to Be, What I Want to See’.

We are asking you to get involved writing, drawing, making or recording something as a way to share what you want to see for yourself and the world around you, post-pandemic.

From 25th March our extended Trinity family of artists and community groups will be sharing their responses to help inspire you including Misfits Theatre sharing their ambitions for a utopian future and top tips on getting creative with artists Grove and Pete Warner.  We’ll be running a series of free workshops with artists including Rider Shafique, Vanessa Kisuule and Gerrys Attic to help you get creative in response to the theme. There will also be an opportunity to take part in socially distanced workshops in our community garden with artist Amy May Ellis to create an art-installation.

Find out more about the project and the events coming up by visiting trinitybristol.org.uk/arts

Ways to #GetInvolved

• Share any content you create with us by emailing info@trinitybristol.org.uk
• Get in touch by emailing info@trinitybristol.org.uk to find out how to drop off any physical responses at Trinity.
• Submit your content online
• Share with us directly on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter
• Share on your own social media using the hashtag #WhatIWant

If you’re located in BS2 look out for our freepost leaflet, along with a free, especially created, print by Andy Council, coming through your letterbox and post them back to us.

If you live in Newtown or St Judes, keep your eyes open for the newest team member of Trinity - S.U.S.A.N.N the socially distanced robot - who will be out on the streets collecting your responses!

Once we've gathered enough content to represent the diverse communities of the city, we’ll be working with talented local artists to create their own responses inspired by you, to be shared as part of a celebratory event later in the year and to build a lasting legacy of our shared ambitions for the future.

Join an unforgettable evening of passion and rhythm at the Flamenco Dance Show 'RAÍCES' ("ROOTS") presented by the internationally acclaimed prized winner flamenco dancer from Madrid, Rebeca Ortega accompanied by UK leading flamenco guitarist and composer from Granada, Ramón Ruiz, established star flamenco singer from Cádiz, Natalia Marín, London rising percussionist, Sebastian Ruiz.

Get ready to be mesmerized by the fiery footwork and soul-stirring music that will transport you to the heart of Spain.

Stand is the product of conversations. The conversations continued long after leaving the Trinity centre, but in silence; an inner-monologue set to my footsteps, set to snippets of strangers passing conversations. Stand made me consider myself, my actions.

It made me proud of that time I stood up to the racist man in the restaurant in Edinburgh and made me see my Mother’s pleasure in witnessing this in a new, brighter light. Stand made me hope that in the future I will be braver in making positive choices and not stop myself due to fear of an unsuccessful ending. Stand made me miss my younger self- the one who could be so riled up about the wrongs of the world.

Stand made my friend sad when she realised later that these were actors, not the activists, performing the verbatim transcript. Stand impressed me that the quality of performance made her think this.

Stand meant I was sure to find a bin to put my cigarette butt in and to feel guilty for all of the discarded ones that came before it and every dropped one that is sure to come. Stand reminded me that I am only human. Stand made me plump-up with pride for people. It made me deflate with despair in humanity.

Stand made me think of my friend who spends weeks, months living in protest sites; of the arrests, beatings, losses and wins. It made me question why I have been so hesitant to join him.

Stand made me wish I’d ordered the vegetarian quiche instead of this open-top ham sandwich but feel a little more at ease that at least the meat is locally sourced. Stand reassured me that standing-up can come in many forms. Stand is simple. It is sensitively, sometimes joyously performed. Stand made me want to know more, to do more. Stand made me want to be better.