Driving into London from the East on the M11 at sunset you get a remarkable vista of tall buildings set against the fire of the sky.
Jack and I went to Bishop’s Stortford and loaded up with slightly damp costumes and timber. Our mission is to get this stuff out as cheaply as feasible. We had Marcus there with us at the start. His job was to help us know what was to go and what was to stay. His slightly laissez-faire attitude helped me modify my worry. I didn’t want to chuck anything vital, and at the same time I didn’t want to leave anything that needed to be chucked. I think I’ve got a handle on it now. He didn’t seem to mind so long as we took the obvious things. I was trying to be thorough.
The dump is closed at Park Royal – it’s shut every Tuesday and Wednesday, probably because it’s open on the weekend when people do their house clearance. But it means that the van is sleeping outside my house with a load of flats in it, and random bits of wood. Guys, if you need wood and you have a vehicle the next few evenings I’ll be sleeping in Chelsea with a van full of wooden flats and things that burn. It’s ahead of taking them to the tip in Park Royal and paying tip weight. I’d gladly rehouse anything with you but … you’d have to come to me.
We found a clothes bank and hoiked a huge amount of random theatre costume into it for The Salvation Army. There are going to be some homeless people in Essex looking absolutely fabulous because of this. Tomorrow we will be back to get all the bits of London Christmas Carol that have gathered over the years. I think the biggest bits were originally from Mike Leigh’s Peterloo film, channeled through a Hammer Horror show and eventually into Carol. Some of it we will try to rehome, for sure. But faced with a deadline (Saturday) and a limited amount of time with the van, it is likely we will just be hurling wood into recycling and paying for the privilege. By all means message if you think you can house it. If you cover the petrol I’ll bring it to you. But otherwise, I’ve got a job to do.
After work I went out for drinks with Tristan and his agent, who was in my year at Guildhall. Tristan ended up back at my flat briefly. He found the moleskine capes for the first time, and has taken one. “This is wonderful,” be was gushing. And yes. They are. Very specific. But wonderful. And I’m letting them find a bit more time to find their home. He went home with one under his arm.
The flats I’ve got in my van at the moment have been customised so much that they aren’t much use to anybody as generic flats. They are bulky. They were likely made at great expense in a workshop somewhere. In context they are exactly what was needed. Outside of that … they are just unwieldy chunks of painted wood.
I’ve never been very good at letting go. I try to help things go round again. But this job is too big. I’m having to be ruthless. Tomorrow will be harder as it’s going to be Carol stuff so directly connected to me. I just wish I had a country estate. And a barn. But don’t we all?
I took no photos again… Here’s one of some random bits…
AlBarclay 