A hot hot day today and a little bit of rainfall pushed the first half of the show into the emergency weather marquee. On a day like today, tents turn into ovens. We were all drenched in sweat immediately in that marquee. I was never happier than when I got to remove my cotton shirt and put on my silk one. Hot hot hot. They’re gonna put out severe weather warnings for the rest of the week, and Lou is in Saudi where it’s ten degrees hotter in the shade and you wonder what all the fuss is really about over here. It’s just a bit of temperature. I’m certainly happier sweltering occasionally than not wanting to get out of bed and live in the land of freezing hell. Second half thankfully brought us outside, back to the beautiful tree that frames the little stage.
The Willow Globe is deep in nature, and there’s much to feel around here. A horsefly landed on my finger during a scene in the second half causing me to momentary pop out as I shook the bastard off. Round the back you constantly hear a call that was lost to these valleys for a while after hundreds of years – the call of the red kites. They were almost totally extinguished in this country by silly people. Now they are back, and their very distinctive agile whistle sounds around the theatre as we wait for our entrances. Moles and rabbits have left evidence of good activity all around. The entirely docile chickens that shamelessly interrupt scenes are proof that, for now, the foxes are looking elsewhere. I’ve had a very peaceful few days, slipping into that slightly irresponsible show routine where I stay up too late processing and then miss too much of the morning.
The show wound up and I stayed for a while to enjoy the celebrations, but I was always gonna have to cut and run – I’m back to the dayjobby grind, about to run a workshop about batteries again. I’ve just driven to Leicester. I’m far from the kites and the chickens, the William and the willow. I’m in another Premier Inn, cocooned in my plastic sheets, listening to the roar of some sort of air thing I can’t switch off. A little wasp woke up in my light when I switched it on, so there is still nature but it’s not as deep here. In Wales I had to clean the front of Bergman because the collision sensor got a dead bug on it.
I’m tired. I start too early tomorrow. Midnight just happened and I’m going to take it as my cue to spark out.
AlBarclay 