You know when you see a staunch coloured woman walking down the street, chest high, an air of drama, afro stretched to the skies, laughter spilling at the end of every breath, you feel her confidence, her sexuality, her danger and you wonder, ‘what would it be like to be her for a day?’

Expect to find out.

Mother May We is a slice of chaotic life featuring Woman, she lives in Sydney’s Inner West, she is a performance artist, she is kooky, bold, sexual, opinionated and she is in the midst of processing very complicated grief after losing her mother who she hadn’t seen in 20 years. This huge life event thrusts her into what is essentially the dark night of the soul. That ugly, sticky unraveling, that humble reminder that being human is learning and unlearning ways to survive, ways to love, ways to make sense of the injustice of it all.

Mother May We is a slice of chaotic life featuring Woman, she lives in Sydney’s Inner West, she is the most beautiful chaos, she is debauchery and sexiness and a broken child drawn to dazzling lights and the moon is the only witness to all the different skin she has had to shed. She is the dramatic entrance to the party, the funny aunty you invite for a laugh, the deep sister you cry with under full moon rituals. She has become her mother, her ugly, her fabulous, her secrets. Mother May We showcases the woman woven from a painful childhood to become a spectacular mess of emotions and magnetic charisma.

The show is experimental in practicality, part theatre, part poetry, dance and installation woven with Papua new Guinea culture but all heart and courageous truth in essence. Mel Ree is a formidable force of life, her energy is only surpassed by her need to tell you her truth. To let you feel it with her.