Words are a curious lot. Dog, scarf, sister, pint - all dead, static things. But put them in the service of a conjurer and they dance. Christina Quinn's magic is her ability to choreograph simple everyday observation, to have us experience these things as more than a museum. Exploring the dirt and the light of family, relationships, life as lived, and spinning it all into a revelatory universal tango. The joy of a dog rocketing between conspiring sisters; the ability of a scarf to act as a time capsule or a pint as an anchor… Quinn's deft weaving of memoir with poetry is a celebration of making up some steps on the way home.