YAnother odd day. The day after the solstice, the day before Sirius. The dog days are coming. Now more than ever we have to keep ourselves and each other safe. It’s a powerful time but it’s also a time for care.
I was dayjobbing, (here’s the only photo I took today)
Then I helped Jitz the Romanian get a fridge into my block. I don’t massively need a new fridge. But I’ve got one. Someone wanted it out and there’s enough wrong with mine that I took an opportunity.
I was still loath to let the old one go. We stuck the seal on with superglue and it still doesn’t seal. It has had mice living in it in the past. The barriers that stop the milk from falling out when you open the door – they’re long gone. The handle? Dean pulled off the handle spectacularly one drunk night about 5 years ago and behaved like it was the fridge’s fault for not being able to cope with his strength. I switched in the freezer handle as a substitute, which means the freezer has been awkward to open for five years. Cometh the time, cometh the fridge. Thinking about it it does need replacing.
The replacement arrived just after 12, and we quickly discovered that it was just the right size to get in the lift on the ground floor, and just too big to get it out of the lift on my floor. So we lumped it up four increasingly narrow flights of stairs and then left it outside my fire escape, directly outside my new neighbour’s door. It was the only sensible place, because Jitz was done with it and I had to get smartly dressed and go to a meeting.
Then I got a call. “We need a superhero’s sidekick. Someone was doing it but he had a blood sample and passed out. Can you cover him this evening?” So once again I was unexpectedly doing street theatre in someone else’s sweaty spandex. I discovered that a woman took a video of us last time I covered and posted it on social media seeking us out. My friend CJ tagged me but my privacy settings kept it hidden from me. We were pretending to ride motorbikes in the video. She wants to employ us for a corporate event. Real superheros. Ones that make you happy.
Oh God. God. Is THIS going to be the one that sticks? God help us all. Me and a kazoo riding an invisible motorbike on the day that Brian had his bike stolen? I was just exorcising my own demons through clowning. The video looks like we know what we are doing. I guess I can gladly be a superhero for cashmoney. It’s fun, and once again it’s Clowning.
Clowning. I’ve always been interested in it. I do it anyway by mistake all the time anyhow. I’ve often considered throwing some money and time at sodding off to Paris and working with Gaulier, the ancient French clown who created a school for clowns. I know I’d get the money back, as it’s an augmenting name and until my career explodes (tomorrow) I’ll be doing a lot of this random stuff.
But then I frequently meet people who have gone to Gaulier and I run up against an out of place self regard about their “terribly important clowning” which is just fucked. Clowning is all about status and yet people who have supposedly trained in it can’t recalibrate it in themselves. It leaves me thinking that the alumni are mostly people who have spent lots of time / money and want to feel they’re better people for the time or money they’ve spent while pretending it was nothing to them. It makes me just want to trust my instincts and my time at the coal face when it comes to the discipline. But again, that’s why maybe it would be valuable to learn. I end up clowning all the time. Formal understanding could help make it tighter. I should go fund myself. Improve my French. Behave like a prat. Come back self important. Boom. Screw you. I earnt this red nose, peasant…
I’m feeling complicated, internally. Although all this clowning and random short stuff is essentially my bread and butter and although I love being your good friend or best shoulder to cry on I want a bit of consistency in work, and to be able to be targeted goodness in someone’s life where we can grow together. There’s lots I’m great at and there’s lots I’m atrocious at. I’m so shit at flirting I either do it invisibly or with a mallet. Meh.
I’m going to just let go of all thoughts of what I expect or need and stick with what I know. I know I’m alright. I have great home life. I get to do things related to my vocation almost every day, gainfully. I have the most amazingly supportive and positive agent who understands me, gets my place in the industry, and wants to break barriers. It has been forever since I’ve felt supported like that by someone connected and established in the industry. Since mum died and I forensically burnt everything I could possibly burn. The more I think about it, the luckier I realise I am. It’s just the dog days, barking. Woof.