“My name is Sarah and I want to convince you that Catweazle saved my life. I attend the university here in Oxford but am originally from Southern California, where I live for about half the year. Upon arriving in the UK I found myself unable to cope with the weather, the exchange rate, the homesickness, and separation from the lover I left back home, and as a consequence found myself in a very dark and troubling place. I was self-destructive and disordered and losing hope that I could find any solace when I discovered the hallowed grounds of the East Oxford Community Centre.
I started out as a member of the Catweazle audience but couldn’t resist the lure of the glittered stage drapes, the shine of the spotlight, the promise of a roaring round of applause and communion with a group of artists unmatched in their exuberance and talent.
Catweazle was therapy, was catharsis, was confession, was neutral and non-judgemental, and beyond all else was an evening of feeling simultaneously transcendent and rooted. Displaced and very much alone, there was nothing more precious than the sense of belonging and acceptance that came with finding ‘home’ abroad.
My Catweazle family is mad, lurid, elated, pagan, and more resplendent and blessed than I can hope to convey. They have convinced me that even in the most brittle and bone-biting cold of an English winter, there can be warmth, light, and the promise that spring will indeed come again.”