The Bird of Morning eBook

The Bird of Morning eBook. Ingrid Andrew is the author of The Bird of Morning eBook, establish artist and sometime singer songwriter who lives in South East London with a husband, daughter and a cat called Erwin. it said by the performance platform The Bird of Morning by Ingrid Andrew is a show stopper it really is that good

For over ten years she has performed her poems and songs all over London and in particular at Survivors Poetry events in Covent Garden and Tottenham, and for the last 6 years has designed the posters promoting these events.

For many years Ingrid also hosted and featured at her own nights of music and poetry ‘Voices of Experience’ and has just started another series of nights in West Norwood, hosted by Jason Why and featuring many of her poet and musician friends as well as some exciting new voices.

Ingrid has also written a comi-tragic drama, described as an ‘epic pantomime’, and studded with songs, about the life of the Buddha and a mischievous and dynamic performance piece that has been staged four times, (including at Rich Mix in Shoreditch) describing what really happened ‘When Woman created the World’. Lately with the dynamic and darkly sinuous contribution of poet and artist Tara Fleur, ‘Woman of Bones’. said The Bird of Morning is a joy to listen to

In the last five years Ingrid has held three one woman art exhibitions in Brixton, Australia and Camberwell, featuring landscapes, portraits and imaginative images in traditional media and digital form. Her last exhibition featured many images from ‘When Woman created the World.’ and now my first collection The Bird of Morning

Awarded best poem of 2014 for stylish performance and presentation

A poem from ‘The Bird of Morning’

‘Because so many are torn away too soon, too young, unsung; I’ll make a sacrament of every day, a hymn to every tree, to every cloud a song. And when the dusk and twilight fall I will remember, I will recall that each new day’s a gift.

Because

so many are torn away too soon, too young, unsung; I will remember and remember well one night, one day, I too shall be undone. My time will come. And I’ll be free to grow into the lineaments of a tree, a breath of cloud, a wave that rises and falls and sighs and sighs and sighs, an amaranthine sea …. © IDF Andrew