Clyde Wray is a poet, a writer, a performer, a producer, and a storyteller. When he speaks it’s in the low rumble of thunder, the room trembles, and small mammals go scampering for the hills. Any occasion to read his words is an opportunity lost that you might have heard them aloud. Most importantly though, Clyde is alive, and he wants you to know that. It’s a relatively common condition, and thus a relatable one, but Clyde embraces it with the full of his being; waking at hours most people would consider death defying, “I don’t like sleeping. I’ve been up now since three o’clock this morning. I like being up, I like being awake, I like being able to have a thought, I like seeing the stars and the moon, I like being in the sun, I like to see the sun go down. It’s all very romantic. I like being in life.” Continue reading Clyde Wray: Saint John’s Storyteller →