Moving stuff again

Home and tired. Mel was covering Panda and I was helping a friend downsize his mum in the nursing home. Horrible process. And it involves furniture that needs to be moved. His mum won’t really know where she is anymore. So sad. Lou has a friend that might want some of the furniture pieces. The rest might fit into immersive theatre, but it’s always the same: storage storage storage. If I ran my own venue it’d be a different thing. You can have all the lovely useful things in the world but if there’s nowhere to put them and no art to use them in they are just clutter. I was glad though to meet his mum, even if it was mostly her asleep in a big room. “Most of my dad’s stuff was kept because he took a great big unit out and bought a load of stuff at auction to fill out a theatre he thought he was going to take over, but it all fell through”. Tragic. And yet we all do it. We cling into things against the possibility of them being relevant to us again.

Mel is back in town and we are brainstorming a show. It’s one way of dealing with the vast amount of beautiful clutter that neither of us want to see just thrown in the bin, knowing it is worth more than that. Dress a space. Make a story. I really want to find a space in spring next year that can go towards an experience. About how we define ourselves. About what we use to try to augment our ideas about who we want to be seen as. Identity and trappings and vanity and transience. Things that live longer than people. A response to yesterday’s blog subject maybe. Finding a way through art to help people think about their reliance on new new new. I’ve had a few ideas. Haven’t filled in any funding applications though so Spring is probably optimistic. But the amount of times I’ve had an idea and then seen someone else make it… Maybe it’s time to be the change. I just had drinks with the lawyer for You Me Bum Bum Train, which will only make sense to a few, but those who know will know how they changed everything for the better.

We went walkies on the heath tonight. It’s a good route this year. I’m enjoying it. Sunday is the only night still with bookable tickets. We have hit the cap. That’s something to be proud of so early in the run. I am enjoying my stories and they seem to be enjoying them. The performers and costumes are all great. What a joyful silly fun thing. I’m very much buying into my multi-headed existence right now. I do occasionally lose track of who and when and what I am. And why. I am definitely not being the best friend I could be to anybody – I barely communicate with Lou and mostly that’s on the move from A to B.

Sleep now though. I’m back on my sofa tonight. My comfy sofa. The leaves are autumn. The daytime temperature is late summer. I’ll hold onto that…

Pretty but severely damaged thing

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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