I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful –
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
Sylvia Plath – 23 October, 1961
Just finished #projectsalt.
Some people ask “How long did it take to write the play?” or “Does it take a long time to produce a show?” or maybe “Do you make any money, from theatre?”
Nothing is guaranteed. Writing a play takes as long as it takes, really. Normally 6-12 months in my experience. I walk around with the story (in my head) for a while, before I pen anything.
Is money important in theatre?
To be honest, I don’t think so. Just keep waiting tables, teaching violin, working at the bookshop and (never stop) believing in the cause.
Inspiration comes from the street: people’s behaviours, graffiti, shop windows, the smell of cinnamon, small children, truth and sex.
I have my next play on my person, strapped invisibly to my body.
Will tweet about it soon.
It’s hard to get a handle (intended pun) on when #tweetseats emerged as a thing on social media but it’s been talked about for all of 2013. This is where the naughty kids sit at the back of the
class theatre and tweet, post, snap and upload to their little hearts’ content. And being at the back means brightly lit screens don’t annoy fellow theatre-goers.
Instant reviews, thoughts and photos are brought to life as it happens inside the theatre. The idea of #tweetseats being that people who can not attend can voyeuristically take part and – ideally – be enticed to attend the show in the rest of the season. But the best part is that anyone can follow the #tweetseats hashtag on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook and see what’s happening in theatre around the world any time of the night or day. And I think that’s a…
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It Is Here
What sound was that?
I turn away, into the shaking room.
What was that sound that came on in the dark?
What is this maze of life it leaves us in?
What is this stance we take,
to turn away, and then turn back?
What did we hear?
It was the breath we took when we first met.
It is here.
~ Harold Pinter
Writing is my passion, and to hear my (new) play, being read aloud for the first time, is pure elation.
‘salt’ is about unrequited love, and mental health.
A few months ago I emailed/interviewed 10 people about their experience with love, in their lives.
What is love? Do you believe in love? When did you first feel butterflies in your tummy? Who was you childhood sweetheart? And so on.
Everyone found love (from the questionaire) from 5-7 years old, and they all remembered their sweetheart’s full name, including me.
What happens when love is one-sided? Or is it always, one-sided? Can two people love each other the same?
Do you believe in love?
“Let me look sometimes for the goodness in me, and judge me not”. – Arthur Miller
No matter how many times you tell yourself, to not judge a ‘book by it’s cover’, we still do. When you walk down the street, and you see the homeless person on the pavement, with their signage ‘Help me, I need a bed for the night.’ Does your heart bleed, or are you sceptical, that it’s a con?
When I get dressed everyday – I do it for me. Wear what I want. Do you do that? Or are you worried about how the world perceives you?
Just the other day I was watching a program, on how employers discriminate people, for having front teeth missing. If you are client-facing, there is an expectation to always look presentable and well groomed with no warts, no yellow teeth and no missing limbs.
Sometimes it is difficult to be human – that is why you (should) never judge yourself.