Who were the women in Shakespeare’s life? His wife, Anne to whom he left his second-best bed? His daughter Susannah to whom he left everything else? His illiterate daughter Judith who got nothing? A mystery London lady-love? Perhaps.
One thing’s for sure. He must’ve had an Auntie. Someone who fussed over him, scrubbed his hose and darned his doublet. The Unknown Soldier of domesticity and duty.
A woman a bit like me … someone who has looked after others in work and play. Did she ever dream of writing a play, in-between pegging out the clothes and cooking the dinner?
Here is my work. Plays, musicals, poetry, photography and art. It’s taken too long to share it.
If it strikes a chord, get in touch.