The party has come to the end...

So here we all find ourselves, in the midst of post-festival blues. Post adrenaline, post excitement, post artists and events and beers and dialogue. Post nottdance. Feels like a bit of a sad place to be. It's like clearing up at the end of a mad party.

Reflecting on the week, in my post-manic daze is, however a nice place to be. The momentum of the festival began in the grandeur of Nottingham's Council House Ballroom (and what a spectacular opening to the festival that was) and ended in Fat Cats Cafe Bar with an Argentinean Tango party. And the in between was pretty colossal I have to say, from breakjazz in the Broadmarsh (yes, nottdance got down with the kids) to visually rich multimedia performance and from 5 improvising SlovaKs to local Sneinton residents dancing on their street. nottdance had it all.

The festival team have laughed, cried, thought, ate, slept (and not slept), breathed, walked, watched, drank, talked, danced (and not danced) nottdance. But despite a huge wave of tiredness hitting the team, there is a real sense of achievement in the office.

nottdance felt extraudinary.

nottdance felt brave.

nottdance felt like a challenge, but it also felt human, honest.

Let the planning for next years begin!

Linzi