Clowns are the thread nobody expects. Johnny Melville spent decades in European theatre and writes about the performers he knew, the festivals they started, the truck that got stuck inside a Spanish army exercise, and the five clowns who have given their lives to putting a smile on a child's face.
The healing writing sits beside it without apology. A ginger compress shown to him in Florence by a student's grandmother, which fixed a pulled back muscle in two days. Channelling energy, rebirthing, and what a teacher of intuition taught him about sending light.
He profiles artists and actors nobody else is writing about, with obvious affection and no interest in whether they are famous.
Then the anger arrives, about surveillance, about corporations claiming what they did not invent, about tourists leaving a mess behind them, about a church that will not be transparent.
Nothing else in this network reads like it. Start anywhere and let it take you.