Late for Scene and Heard

The days are getting colder. I don’t like it. I woke up in Brighton and I’ll be sleeping in Gipsy Hill. Today was mostly about the train strike. A slow wake-up and then a long drive that really ought not to have been anything like as long. I wanted to get to Mornington Crescent for 3pm to see Scene and Heard. I had helped one of the child playwrights to make their piece. I wanted to see it borne out and I was very happy to see how well they dealt with it – the playwright is 14 now – this is towards the end of her programme – and she was so much better dressed than me. I showed up on a hoodie covered in cat fur, and my grandfather’s flannel trousers. She was in an excellent suit, looking very natty. From our conversations it is likely to have been from her grandma, much like my flannel trousers. We spoke about death a fair amount. Her grandma sounded like a formidable woman. She is a formidable woman in her own right now. Wonderful to see she joined the program at 8.

I didn’t get there for the 3pm start though. The roads from London to Brighton were awash with rage and traffic. Coming to think of it, staying in Gipsy Hill this evening was a stupid idea because tomorrow is the London Marathon and it whole city will be even more shut to traffic. I won’t be able to get home. Nevertheless there’s a bed here for me and I’m already in it. And I’m tired. I got my friend home and just didn’t want to do driving anymore. So … I’m here. I had a battered sausage and chips. I’m knackered.

But yeah, I arrived at Scene and Heard about halfway through the show. I was lucky as my playwright’s piece was right at the end so I got to see it, but missed out on some of the earlier ones that I would love to have seen. It was all written in response to The Wellcome Collection. It was a lovely hour of theatre I have no doubt.

We wrestled the heating on. I threw a load of linen onto a bed. I’m going to sleep like a log I hope. Dreams have been busy recently – Lou and I simultaneously woke up from dreams of travel last night. The dreamscape is getting active. Things are afoot in dreamland…

I’m so sleepy I’m making little rational sense. Dream positive my friends. X

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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