No no time time ting

Was it really yesterday that I went to the theatre? It feels like a week.

I’m still casting this thing. I’m under NDA. It’s all so vague on purpose. But we need actors. To mostly do very little. But I pushed up the fee so that I can get good performers who won’t stop filming at a crucial moment in order to ask “what’s my motivation?” All the people I’ve employed will get it done, and enjoy it too.

I just had a good conversation at Kitcat and hell’s bells I needed it. She can listen when she wants to it seems. I left the house shortly after 8am, drove through rain for far too long, managed various egos as they imploded or exploded, found replacements for the exploding ones, swore about it, worried about it, stopped myself from worrying about it, stopped myself from swearing about it, got on with it, got it done. Now the only worry is the silence. There’s one person who has neither confirmed nor denied and I’ll have to replace her by noon tomorrow one way or the other. It’s just sometimes hard to tell people’s reasons for jumping ship. If they’re just not interested, fine, just tell me, I’m cool with not interested. I might be that guy if you were me. Often it’s panic about worth. I was that worthpanic guy too, maybe a decade ago. I get it but I can talk you out of that from my own experience with depression and self loathing.

But I guess there’s no check sheet. “I am suddenly unavailable because

A: Confidence issues

B: Better than the job.

C: Not enough information.

D: Genuine availability conflict.

Our communication has been atrocious to the actors. Because my hands are tied.

I know why my friends have felt that they can respond in kind with atrocious communication.

But when things finally move on this they have to move fast and even though I’ve tried quite purely to get money to the people I think will want need or welcome money, sometimes I’ve misjudged it against either their demons or their ego. 

This is a thing we are doing for money. If you have humour and a small amount of time, and you like money, do it with us. You’ll be paid more than me per day. It’ll be a strange but lovely day. You’ll be well treated and then you’ll send an invoice. Done

After most of the day worrying or sending emails I clocked out, and walked away. I got into my car and drove through this shitawful rain to Seven Sisters. There I went into a room with two other people to rehearse a piece of theatre I’m about to do, written by a ten year old. It’s a relief to be in a rehearsal room, even for something bonkers. She’s a Venus flytrap. I’m an ice bucket for Arsenal. The more I look into it, the stranger and more beautiful it is. Now we’ve rehearsed it once we have to learn it.

The hardest thing about Scene and Heard is the learning. Good God. But here we go. “If you can learn these you can learn anything”, I tell my flytrap partner. It’s her first one! It’s such a sweet piece.

I got home about 14 hours after I left the house. I ordered a pizza, ranted at Kitkat, bathed and now I’m writing this in my pants. Bedtime. Past bedtime.

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Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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