I went into Zizzi this evening, on my own, for a bowl of pasta that I could cook better myself. It’s a strange thing this delight in paying someone to do the washing up. It means I also have to eat what they come up with, which is largely not unpleasant even if more watery and smaller portion then if I could be bothered. We habitually pay these big businesses to make shortcuts on very easy dishes. I’m a terrible example of it. I go to Zizzi for their halfarsed pasta before the show, way too frequently, even though they don’t give us the ten percent off. I tried Wildwood Kitchen first though, and got a bowl of water with string and “sorry the ten percent doesn’t work on a Saturday”.
We have this remarkable pass that plays out well if we try and use it well – the RSC brings lots of people and some local businesses are kind enough to offer these discounts. “You guys have only got four days of your show left,” said the lady in Zizzi this evening and it made me feel sick. She’s wrong, we have a week and 4 days. But still. That isn’t much. In a week’s time she’ll be right. Fuck. It is winding up.
This has been incredible in my life. I knew about it in advance so things suddenly became possible. I could walk Kumano Kodo knowing I had an acting job coming up. I could take Paris knowing I had an acting job coming up. Without that security it is so much harder to allow freedom. I love my dayjobs, I love the people associated with them, but… This is my primary. I have to make my acting my primary. Always, despite gatekeepers. And I have binned SO MUCH for the fact I have to do what I do. Here in Stratford we have been reaping – we random fools. This has been glorious and will continue to be so until we are done and then we will always have each other, but we will all be individually back in the mix. I’ve definitely made some heartfriends, and deepened connections I didn’t think could deepen. I’m looking forward to the next, and freaked out by not knowing what it is.
AlBarclay 