“A Vision of Dame Barbara Hepworth Told Me to Dump My Girlfriend” - an AFOOT story

Once again, another AFOOT story. 

As part of the Edinburgh version of Whisper Walk from the "AFOOT" series, I give you one of the monologues/short stories I have composed for this deliciously Scottish incarnation (that we on the creative team refer to a "whispers.") 

From the press release:  

Confessional stories, unuttered truths and personal memories are whispered through headphones in a documentary-style walking tour through Edinburgh. Whisper Walk is partly inspired by the Japanese Kaze no Denwa (“wind phone”) and explores how memories are deeply connected to a seemingly ordinary place. Each audience member, equipped with their smartphone and a pair of headphones, is guided through Edinburgh as voices gently whisper stories and personal memories tied to the locations they pass. As participants become trusted confidants, they are invited to contribute their own place-related memory – whispered into a phone placed at the end of the Whisper Walk – to be archived in the ever-growing Whisper Museum.

Writer Alexandra Silber said, “Whisper Walk is, I think, a really beautiful and unique storytelling theatrical experience, under the notion that places hold memories. It explores the notion that our memories are tied heavily to place, and sort of revels in the idea that a seemingly ordinary, singular, flat park bench, a tree, a series of steps, a street corner, a churchyard, a pub, a very specific cross-section of longitude and latitude, can contain a multitude of stacked memories belonging to countless people—really holding these stories and memories from every human who ever crosses that location. This is very much the way we receive podcasts nowadays, and certainly builds upon the radio drama tradition, but the individual audience member, as a result of this, will end up in a specific geographical place and will hear a story about the place in which they are standing, and thus serves as a confessional, a confidant, a stranger on the road to whom the speaker of the story can speak more candidly than to a regular person in their everyday lives.” 

And so, with that. Enjoy this sneak peak and see you in Edinburgh, this August, afoot! 

 __________________________________________ 

If you ever date a sculptor know this: at some point, they’ll try to sculpt you. Emotionally, I mean. Mine, whose name was Lena had been trying to chisel the sensitivity out of me since March. I thought it was love. It was probably just…scheduling.

We were right here at Doctor’s Pub, and I had made the mistake of having a second Negroni. I remember this because I never order a second Negroni unless I’m trying to impress someone or totally self-destruct.
At some point, I stumbled to the loo—not to be ill, but to be alone without Lena describing “the essence of clay,” and maybe cry a little, the way one sometimes does at the Fringe.

And that’s when I saw her: 
Dame Barbara Hepworth— English sculptor who defined the essence of Modernism and by the way is dead—in the mirror. She wasn’t glowing or floating; malevolent or kind. Just… standing there. Stern. Severe. Iconic headscarf just-so. The kind of woman who looked like she once filed her taxes with a blowtorch.

     “You need to leave her,” the ghost of Barbara Hepworth said, really very composed for someone long-dead. 
I blinked. She raised an eyebrow. Was this low blood sugar? Divine intervention? All I knew is that the ghost of Barbara Hepworth had opinions, and honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
     “But she’s brilliant,” I said, out loud, to no one. “She has a residency in Berlin!”
Barbara Hepworth sighed.      

     “She put a plinth in your kitchen, darling. That’s not a woman, that’s an installation.” 

I returned to the table and stared at Lena, while she returned to describing the sensual nature of rebar. We settled up and left. But in my daze, I’d left my credit card behind and as I turned back— there was Barbara once again, her brilliant, ragged hands banging on the glass from inside the main window, mouthing            “Leave her!!’ 

Then she was gone. Just—poof. Back to the realm of dead British modernists and my own unfortunate subconscious.

 

And I thought: Barbara has a point! I don’t want to be part of someone else’s conceptual vision board— and what will I do for six months in Germany? I’m lactose intolerant. 
 

I broke up with Lena the next day. She said I was mediocre and afraid of commitment.
Which are both true.

But honestly?
Sometimes you just have to listen to the ghost of a modernist sculptor in a pub toilet.
Especially when she’s right.

The prophetic Dame.

Books-by-the-Month: August

August is the month when summer begins to exhale. The days are still golden, but there’s a subtle shift in the light—a slant, a softness—that suggests we are quietly tilting toward autumn. 

It is a month of in-betweens: the last stretch of vacation before the return of structure, the heat that still clings while shadows grow longer. 

Reading in August is tinged with this same gentle melancholy. It is still the season for sprawling, immersive books—but it is also the moment for reflection, for voices that have been overlooked, for stories that stay with you as the season wanes.

In honor of August’s particular beauty—and its lesser-known holidays like Women’s Equality Day, Left Handers Day, and International Cat Day—here is a curated list of books to savor as summer leans toward its close.

1. The Awakening by Kate Chopin

For Women's Equality Day (August 26)

 

There is no better time to revisit—or discover—The Awakening, Kate Chopin’s quietly revolutionary novel about a woman’s search for autonomy in the stifling social climate of late-19th-century Louisiana. Edna Pontellier’s journey toward selfhood, sensuality, and artistic freedom was scandalous upon publication in 1899, but today it remains hauntingly fresh. Chopin’s language is luminous as heat rising off the sea, and her portrayal of a woman determined to live life on her own terms makes this a perfect reflection for Women’s Equality Day. Read it by the water if you can! Let the waves echo Edna’s restless longing.

 

Behold the multitude of covers!

2. Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin
For Left Handers Day (August 13)

The sly nod to Left Handers Day is intentional, but The Left Hand of Darkness earns its place here not just by title but by brilliance. Le Guin’s groundbreaking sci-fi classic, set on a planet where gender is fluid and changeable, explores themes of otherness, empathy, and the slipperiness of identity. The cold, strange beauty of her world-building contrasts deliciously with August’s warmth, making it an ideal read for late-summer nights when you find yourself craving big, mind-expanding questions. It’s also a quiet celebration of non-conformity—something every left-hander can appreciate.

 

 

3. The Traveling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa

For International Cat Day (August 8)

 

To honor International Cat Day (which, of course is everyday in the home of Tatiana Angela Lansbury Romanov!!!), there is no better companion than The Traveling Cat Chronicles, a tender Japanese novel that follows a man and his beloved stray cat Nana on a journey across Japan. 

 

Told partly from the cat’s point of view, the story is suffused with gentle humor, emotional depth, and a profound meditation on friendship, memory, and letting go. It’s the kind of book that wraps around you like late-summer twilight—soft, a little sad, but immensely comforting. 

 

Top tip: best read with a real cat nearby. 

 

 

4. The Hours by Michael Cunningham

For the Bittersweetness of August
August is a month that tastes of endings, and The Hours—with its interwoven narratives of Virginia Woolf, a 1940s housewife, and a modern New Yorker—beautifully captures the delicate tension between life’s small domestic moments and its seismic emotional shifts. Cunningham’s language is lyrical without excess; his characters are complex and achingly human. The novel pulses with the weight of time, memory, and the choices that shape us. As summer begins to slip through our fingers, this novel reminds us of the exquisite, painful beauty of impermanence.

 

The Hours was made into a motion picture starring Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore and Nicole Kidman, but my personal favorite subsequent artistic rendering inspired by this novel is the 2022 opera in two acts with music by Kevin Puts and libretto by Greg Pierce. I was fortunate enough to bear witness to its world premiere, and while the three leading female performances were indeed formidable, my favorite aria and performance belonged to Kyle Ketelsen as the poet Richard, dying of both AIDS and, possibly, despair. 

 

Enjoy this snippet of his aria. Beyond masterful.

 

    

 

5. The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith

For Sultry, Late- Summer Suspense

For those who like their Augusts with a dose of heat and danger, The Talented Mr. Ripley is the perfect noir-laden choice. Highsmith’s elegant psychological thriller unfolds in the sun-drenched landscapes of Italy, where charm, envy, and amorality blur together in the figure of Tom Ripley. 

 

Oooooo the sweltering days, the lingering sense that something is ending, the slanted golden light, the subtle menace that lurks beneath surface perfection. It’s a brilliant exploration of desire, deception, and the masks we wear.

 ________

 

August is a threshold: still steeped in summer’s sensual pleasures, but with the first whispers of change. The books we choose in this month carry some of that duality—light and dark, freedom and reflection, motion and stillness. 

 

Whether you find yourself drawn to bold women, speculative futures, philosophical felines, or moral ambiguity, may these selections accompany you through the golden hours ahead. 
 

There is time yet for one more story before the season turns.