I’m Anne Louise Kershaw a freelance writer; Music Editor of Blankpages and Manchester's Finest & I write for Guardian Northerner and Clash Magazine amongst others . I'm Senior Editorial & Designer for Carel Press.
This is my blog where I write about music, theatre, fashion, arts & culture, gender & equality. Every time I blog I post a picture because i'm obsessed with my camera.
- Must have read approx 9 million articles today and my eyes are completely ready to shut #timeforbed #damnititsmidafternoon 11 hours ago
- RT @katielizawright: If you're a lady wanting to mentor young girls with @TheGirlsNet or know someone who would, sign up ASAP here: http://… 11 hours ago
- RT @NoMorePage3: Loads of support over on the petition today guys! Thank you!! 102685 sigs and counting!! change.org/en-GB/petition… 12 hours ago
- RT @BlankMedia: Deadline reminder Call-out for exhibition/book/event. Artists: tinyurl.com/d7lcgvr & contributors tinyurl.com/cefpea5… 12 hours ago
- Exclusive interview with Skin from Skunk Anansie
- Twitter: Procrastination, productivity and pain
- The drawbacks of Twitter bitching
- The Accrington Pals, Royal Exchange Manchester. Bitter, brutal and beautiful!
- Rats’ Tales at Manchester’s Royal Exchange Theatre
- The Country Wife at the Royal Exchange
- I interview Shell Zenner – The godmother of new music
- Bringing classical music out of the concert hall and into the art world!
- I discuss ‘Madchester’ with Dave Haslam
- Blank Media Collective Projector Series
Daily Archives: March 6, 2011
57/308 It’s all go in the music world of Anne Louise Kershaw. This is because after months of musical stasis, several of my favourite (and new favourite) people have released, or are due to release materiel. Woo hoo. Not yet … Continue reading
56/309 Days before the excitedly anticipated forthcoming R.E.M album Collapse into Now (I am both over-excited and anticipating much greatness), R.E.M HQ, the official band website, release the news of the Collapse into Now Film Project. To work alongside the … Continue reading