About Us

Hello and welcome.

We are Fiona Lindsay and Jay Sloan.  Partners in life and in our dream project.  Just Another Anima.


Us on stage with The Post Orgasmic Sunshine Band at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival

We both have a long history in the performing arts.  Music and performance poetry.  We both have a massive love of travel and new experiences.  And we both love how the arts can help to connect people and break down barriers.  Put all these things in a pot.  Shake ’em about for a few years.  Wait for the kids to grow up, and “Hey Presto!”  Just Another Anima was born.

The Just Another Anima project is me and Jay pottering around the world in a motorhome with as many instruments as we can carry.  Or as many as we can afford anyway.  On the way we will be playing songs, poeming poems and chatting to as many folks as we can.  We’ll be taking photos, blogging about our travels and writing new songs about the people we meet on the way.

Think modern day travelling minstrels.  Taking down the stories we are told.  Putting them in to song and delivering them in person from town to town.  We’ll also be roping fellow musicians in wherever we can to come jam along with us.  Add their own unique flavour to the Just Another Anima pot, and let us video them so everyone can follow the shenanigans online.

Last but not least there’s the Paint the Van project.  I love that one.  And you don’t have to be arty to be involved.  You can read more about that and follow all the different bits and bobs by clicking on the links and reading our blog.

We’d love to hear from you so get involved.  Leave us a comment.  Send us an email.  Like us on Facebook.  You know the drill.

See you on the road.

Fi and Jay.  x


  1. Hi,

    Great blog. Over the past four years we have spent about half the time travelling in ‘Maisy’ The ups and downs (and around and abouts) are recorded on our blog ‘Heels for Dust’. Your blog has put the kibosh on a pet theory of mine, that I am the only poet who drives a motorhome. I wrote this a couple of years ago about our journey to the toe of Italy.

    A road through autumn

    Autumn stalks us like a jilted lover.
    We flee south seeking impossible freedom –
    a slow drive over Champagne’s ochre plains –
    russet woods fringing the mirror-still Meuse.

    We flee south seeking impossible freedom,
    on ancient roads – empty, poplar shadowed,
    through russet woods fringing the mirror-still Meuse.
    We hardly speak, but watch the wordless light

    hush down ancient roads. Empty, plane-tree shadowed,
    a crumbling square in some Burgundian town –
    we hardly speak, but watch the wordless light –
    ‘le crepuscule’ as we sip our ‘deux noisettes’.

    A crumbling square in some Burgundian town –
    it feels like weeks or months ago,
    le crepuscule, as we sipped our ‘deux noisettes’,
    uncertain how each day slipped out unnoticed.

    It feels like weeks or months ago
    we chanced upon a verdant valley
    uncertain how each day slipped by unnoticed,
    time sauntering south with us in Autumn’s shadow.

    We chanced upon a verdant valley:
    turquoise lake, sunlit pastures, ice streaked peaks,
    time sauntering south with us in Autumn’s shadow:
    a herder prods her clanging cattle homewards.

    Turquoise lake, sunlit pastures, ice streaked peaks,
    flowery chalets dotting valley fields –
    herders prod their clanging cattle homewards
    today, as for the past four thousand years.

    Flowery chalets dot the valley fields,
    “Is this our earthly paradise,” I ask,
    “today, as for the past four thousand years,
    to walk in peace within each seasons’ pulse?”

    No earthly paradise! We wanderers ask,
    “What lies beyond this green Arcadian valley?”
    Peace may dwell within each seasons’ pulse,
    but we flee south on sultry Autumn’s heels

    to seek what lies beyond these verdant valleys:
    a slow drive south through Puglia’s dusty plains,
    ever south on a sultry season’s heels,

    stalking Autumn like her long lost lover.

    Why do I appear as ‘Alan’ on Facebook, and ‘Pete’ in the blog (in case you wondered). I have published my poetry as ‘Alan Wickes’ over the past 20 years and ended up on FB as a way of keeping in contact with other poets, particularly in America. I never envisiaged being connected generally through social madia, but it happened, and it’s tricky to change FB name. Otherwise, in the blog and in real life I am who I am – ‘Pete Turpie’. one half of ‘Gill and Pete’ – incorrigible wanderers.

  2. Beautiful piece of work Pete. So evocative of this motorhome travelling life. I feel my smallness in my incapacity to hold the incredible beauty of this world we pass through. My human brain is too puny to contain it all. The light in Sicily at the end of the day eats the words right out of your head.
    Thank you for your lovely comments. I look forward to reading more of your work on your blog. xxx

  3. Hi Fi and Jay, good to meet you today and swap a few stories. I have been enjoying perusing your blog this afternoon whilst it’s been raining:) Love it! Hopefully we’ll meet again sometime on the road…..maybe Edinburgh later in the year. Keep writing – I’ll look forward to your updates and to see how big Marley grows!! Happy and safe travels. Jane and Tim xx

  4. Hi guys! Good to meet you too. Give us a shout if you’re in Edinburgh for sure and we’ll grab a beer or a coffee or something. Thanks for the chat. I think Marley has grown already since yesterday lol. Good Journey. Fi. x

  5. Hi Fiona
    We ‘spoke’ yesterday on motorhome adventures. I’ve just been looking at your blog, and had to keep going backwards till you found Marley! Oh my goodness, tears?
    Marley is going to have a lovely life with you, lucky dog.
    You have made me feel guilty as I need to write our blog, but I shall be back looking at yours when I can.

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