Hello! It’s me… the obviously, although unintentionally, fairweather blogger. I’m reminded of Judy Blume “Are you there God, it’s me Margaret”. Not for the completely mindblowing content, but just in the hope there’s someone still reading.
Oh yes, I am rubbish. It’s always the thing of where and when to start. But I have to admit, these posts keep it a bit easier for me.
There wasn’t a post last Sunday as I was on that choo-choo train back from Manchester. Admittedly, thanks to Transport for Wales it does now come with wi-fi. But it doesn’t come with power points or enough room. So I didn’t blog.
But I did have a fantastic time. For so many good reasons. But if we’re focusing on the past week, it would have to be the relaxing morning which led to my train journey. It was so good to catch up with Sarah, Sara-Jayne and AK again. It’s been far, far too long.
This is a photo from the night before- where my smiles couldn’t be overcome by AK’s direction to look surprised. I am sorry AK, I cannot be told… but maybe it was something I said. Even so, you get all the photo credit.
CRAVE by Sarah Kane
Another “it’s been too long” but I got to the theatre this week, mainly to catch up with a friend. It astounds me how quickly time passes – when it seems like no time at all, but it really has been too long.
Focusing on the interval of the production at The Other Room, and witnessing CRAVE, my brain still hurts.
I remain first and foremost overwhelmed by the strength of the script. And in that by the creativity, innovation and belief of the writer. It remains beyond me that this strength is evidently contrasted by Kane’s suicide.
There was so much in the interpretation of the creatives involved in the Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama, The Other Room and Theatre Clywd in bringing a script with little stage direction to being.
But I was left with the words, with the not knowing of what was meant to be. And it felt like I had been left with a gift for all that is unknown.
But maybe that’s more about me than the production itself.
A new jumpsuit
Oh, to take it back to base.
I have a new jumpsuit. Because I’ve put on weight.
Discovering jumpsuits last year was such a blast. Who knew there could be so much to be learned about the ease of a jumpsuit when needing the loo.
And even the struggle didn’t withstand how much I discovered I liked them.
Weight gain’s another thing. But I do love them. Regardless.
So I popped one in the shopping bag for Blog On, and am loving it wherever I can get away with wearing it.
Although honestly. I’m 40 and I am back wearing clothes from Oasis (last worn circa 1999). You don’t need to tell me there’s something amiss.
I have tried a few Zadie Smith books over the years. There’s a little nagging feeling which is feeling me White Teeth has previously spent some time in my reading pile.
The good news is this time it feels different. So I read in hope of my book pile growing stronger.
I had previously said this would be a constant. And so from all the reconnecting in Manchester, to catching up in Cardiff, to the recommendations in London. Oh my. I am frazzled, exhausted and eager.
I remain thankful. To those who stay up talking into the early hours. Of those who look at me and tell me we’re going to be ok. Of those who get the intricacies of my working life. And those who say, I saw this job and it reminded me of you.
Which is why I spent far too long last night updating a CV which I buried a long time ago. For prosperity rather than hope. If I’m convincing myself.
Car boot sales
We did our third car boot sale of the year today. The boys really wanted a PS4 so they sorted the toys they no longer needed and off we went. Two car boot sales later and the PS4 was theirs.
It has however got us all on the decluttering bandwagon. The idea that the boys have carpet in their room, and that my office (the dumping ground) has the space for me to move my chair. The luxury!
And that’s it. Another week done. A beautiful weekend on the coast. And to London tomorrow. This will be a week which will end far better than it will begin.