Art is as essential as light and air to so many of us; we sniff it out like truffle pigs, then weigh up if it was worth it – be it the financial or physical cost, or both.
I didn’t know what accessibility really meant until the pandemic hit, even though I’ve been disabled since 2005. In the before times, I’d schlep my nervy nervous system and jaggedly painful body to all the venues, sometimes getting my hands on a place to sit, but often not. I’d feel my body turn to an electric kind of stone, readying myself for the days of recovery I would need even as the curtain parted. Putting off the panic about how to do life afterwards was part of a night out – it had never occurred to me that things could be different.
