Final Friday

Well then. Once again I’m writing to you from my cozy cottage.

Last night I sent people messages just before 5am, booking them all into slots for tarot readings today. In the (morning?) I woke up and went for lunch with Georgina, then came back here and made a little warm cosy tarot nest. Lots of very different people, lots of very different readings, and the solid knowledge that Alice’s deck is a genuine glory. I love reading with it for people who haven’t had readings before. The Age of Aquarius lot did loads of damage to the perception of tarot with all the “I see your past and your future” hooey. It’s always nice to be clean for people, to make it their reading not mine. Someone observed “you approach this from the same sort of place as we approached this play,” and I LOVE that. Let’s take the bullshit and the grandstanding out and be crisp and clean with the meaning.

My old voice teacher was in tonight. She’s a powerhouse. She wanted to see John, and John wanted to see her. I was thrilled to have her in as she is a magical creature and has helped launch many ships including the good ship Al Barclay. Patsy Rosenberg. A wonderful exponent of craft. With some of the things I’ve had to sustain vocally over the years, I know I would have ended up with nodules if I hadn’t met her when I did. My damage is useful in my voice, but my clarity and breath support is major to the arsenal. That was her, and Jeanette and Kate. Her team.

Now back here I’m thinking about these two worlds that have come together on this job. My woowoo and my acting, aligning as I embody a stern kind man in a hard world. I condemn someone to a prolonged existence of extremely painful torture for no reason other than distaste for him and his actions. But other than THAT, he’s a pretty pleasant fellow. I am trying to make him the best version of absolute authority. He’s just a little bit fabulous, in his gold costume. I’ll miss him.

I got a poster printed out, and have got everyone to sign it in gold sharpie and that’s the first time I’ve EVER done that and I’m gonna get it framed. This will be a happy memory when I’m in the old folks home. “I still remember the first time I came up to the RSC to act, which play was it now? I can’t remember, there have been so many, but the company…”

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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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