A sculptor, painter, singer, mother and poet, Clare Ferguson-Walker has been trying not to fall asleep at the wheel on the M4 as she roams around the country talking at people, making them laugh, groan and cry, though not necessarily in that order. As a performance poet she has been described as hilarious, crude, thought provoking and once as awful by a drunken heckler.
She tours with her own show and often supports John Cooper Clarke who describes her as “a filthy bastard in a glittery dress”. In fact, that’s how we met: Clare was together with the good Doctor at The Globe in Hay in honour of The Poetry Bookshop moving into its new premises on Lion Street. A clever pun secreted in one of her poems took me a moment to process making me laugh at the joke that had passed everybody else by. Clare heard my laugh, stopped mid-flow, said how much she enjoyed ‘a delayed laugh’ and continued with her performance. The thing is that those of us who love a good, or bad, pun need each other and that’s how she got the WHC gig. How could I resist a show titled California Scheming?
When she's not performing her probably-not-that-unique brand of poetry/comedy, Clare can be found trying to make beautiful things out of clay, which often get knocked over by her kids, or painting paintings which are also often damaged by her kids and sometimes, she can be found comforting her kids who've been injured by badly placed half-made sculptures.
Clare is also holding out dreams of hitting the big time as a rock star with her band Laika and the Falling Stars, last spotted in the further reaches of the universe supporting Dodgy, although she admits it’s probably time to get real, she's nearly 40. And since you ask, yes, she's sucking her cheeks in for those photos but we don’t care.