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The Intrigue podcast feed from BBC Sounds has me absolutely hooked. Loads of different thoughtholes. Perfect for driving when you don’t have passengers.

I ended up with passengers today but they were theatre people so reasonably chilled. I’ve got a pair of sunglasses that double as a hands free kit and earphones. They aren’t bone conduction though, so passengers can hear if I’m listening to stuff and it puts them on edge so I don’t do it unless it’s a brief voice note. Still, the work part of the day was largely squared off by the end of the morning. Then it was just about squaring off details for my impending catsitting jaunt and getting my car close to The Vaudeville.

There’s a restaurant they use as location when they put their scenes in Slow Horses at the Anna Livia. I’m maitre d’hotel in a particular episode there and let myself hope they’d come back there again and use me again. A line here or there in something like that is golden and I had a few and want more. Maybe it’ll come good in a later episode. I drove there knowing the workarounds the crew drivers had found cos I was paying attention, figuring that I would find a spot to leave Bergie in while I go to the theatre. Turns out something is filming there this evening, which made it harder but not impossible for me to find a parking spot. I scrutinised the crew, hoping it wasn’t Slow Horses filming without me. I’m credited as “maitre d’hotel” despite my attempts to charm the writer into making me the regular maitre d and giving me a character name. I’m happy with the credit though, we learn by doing, I didn’t win the close-up and I think I know why. Cos I cared about it. Experience makes wisdom. There’s a skill in letting go. But … yeah, so I parked Bergie up by the scene of a happy learning credit from a few years ago, and now I’m waiting at Embankment barriers to pick up Lou and go for pre theatre dinner. She’s all dressed up. I’m in my driving clothes. Not the chauffeur hat, only special jobs get that. But I’ll be underdressed beside her.

We’re going to Six the Musical. Brian sorted tickets and I know it’s a good night at the theatre. Did some driving for them at one point and ended up having a vivid dream that I was accidentally on stage at the top of the show and had to hide myself in an onstage chest for 80 minutes so the audience didn’t see me.

—

Ahhh Six is joyful and ridiculous and full of skill and silly and clever and sassy. I’d forgotten quite how tight it is. No wonder it just runs and runs. No dead space, they’ve kept it sharp, it’s how it works. You never want time to think on a show like that. Everyone in the theatre was up on their feet at curtain call. We had the best seats in the house for free and fuck it, sometimes it’s not what you know it’s who you know. I’ve given enough time to the production in tiny ways behind the scenes that this little gift of seats and this chance to see a new cast felt glorious. Lou and I loved it. I could sit on my arse and enjoy it for the fun it brings and I bet Lou was digging the costumes almost as much as the voices. She loves good costume and has a better ear than me for singing voices after all Opera. It’s a sharp game, brilliantly leveraging something a whole generation and more learnt before they can even remember learning it. Divorced Beheaded Died Divorced Beheaded Survived.

How the hell can we make a musical out of “The Square on the Hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides?” With Bertie Carvel as the squire on the hippopotamus… nah. BOMDAS the musical?

It’s a once in a lifetime shot. They took it. They hit.

It’s just gone twelve and I’m processing the fact that I woke up this morning in Brighton. Today has been a number of days all wrapped up together. There were a few things needed moving around London. I move things around. Everything was time sensitive though and the locations were typically London awkward. I ran up against my fair share of traffic wardens, ran away from two of them. “Can I get in through the arch to where all the cars are parked unmonitored?” I asked. “No. That’s not possible, you’ll have to wait with your car.” So I did until they were ready to collect and then they let me in through the arch after all. I fucking hate London when its like that. I’d have been happier hoiking the stuff up the road after all the warden dodging they made me do unnecessarily.

I loaded up the car but they hadn’t finished the ironing so they pretended like they weren’t happy loading ironed clothes into a car with other things in it. Why can’t people be more transparent? I slung back to The Arts and dropped a load of costume bags, then back up to “you can’t get through the arch” land to load more costumes than I had seen first time. My expectation was that they would be neurotic about loading them flat into my empty car, but it turns out the neurosis was a front to disguise the fact the job wasn’t finished and to buy them another hour’s ironing as I rushed around to empty myself up. I’m shit at that sort of deceit as it requires the person making it to be capable of being embarrassed. If you’re slow at ironing you’re still faster than I am. I might suggest you get a steamer if you’re a bloke about my age and type but any other dynamic and I’ll keep my mouth shut and rant about it in my blog instead. Just ask me to wait and I’ll save the petrol.

I unloaded all the ironed clothes at a little studio in Camden and then a brief catch up with a friend before it was time to go back to Mordor for a friend of mine who directed a nice piece of new writing for six women – I needed to be there with an empty car to pick up some easels lamps and canvasses and take them back to Questor’s. It’s nice to see good new writing, and I kinda wish it hadn’t been in Mordor – still I’m home now and the universe is only a little bit wider than it was when I started the journey. I hope my contribution helped them in some way. You know how I obsess about helping the young actors. There were five of them and a colleague closer to my age who does Scene and Heard. All excellent thank God and working with a good script. I’ve driven enough today that I listened to the entirety of the BBC Podcast Intrigue The Ratline, as well as the last episode of Murder at the Lucky Holiday Hotel. This stuff makes the licence fee worthwhile. It kept me engaged and in a visual processing mode. The hours shot by and I only missed them once I stopped.

I’ll pass out with the cats now. Tomorrow is another day.

By my standards a very chilled day, but we are still knackered as it all had to be responsive and last minute. It was like a treasure hunt. Lou had the hours of daylight in which to assemble a strange list of items for use in her work while she had access to my car. These items were scattered across the length and breadth of The South Downs, some in the possession of other people in Lewes, some locked in workshops in Port Slade. Meanwhile the good people of Brighton were running round in circles outside Lou’s flat and down the seafront, achieving a half marathon for charity. Lining the streets, the half-enthusiastic clappers. “yay oh you’re doing so well oh yay well yeah keep going ooh yeah go well done you hooray go on keep running woo oh gosh you’re doing so well etc etc” clap clap clap clap tired clap clap clap bored Coffee shops doing a roaring trade. Bars open. Spring light. “Fuck it shall we get a pint?”

We had coffee to boost the beginning of our adventure, in the sunshine down at FIKA. An actual shock of light despite cold, somehow warm in the sunlight, remember this? It happened once. We could be in the outside without consequence, light on the faces, sun energy into the eyes, come back come back Persephone come to the world again and bring the light you bear. We got all the things. We didn’t want to cook so Kemptown Cuisine provided Indian food and then a hot bath and relaxing with the cat. It’s half eight. Last night we didn’t get to sleep until 2 so I’m happy at the prospect of an early down ahead of another long week. I’ll be off into the smoke again, straight into a driving job like the one I just sent a tape for but in real life. I think I’ll need to be in Finsbury Park at eleven. Nobody has been entirely clear so get up and go seems the right policy. London to Brighton at that time can be thorny on a Monday. All the chaps wot bought a second home in the eighties but still have to go into the firm three days a week coming back up from another weekend shouting about their investments in the sauna before parading through the lanes in their dry robe howling about quinoa.

I’m feeling very full and very chill. Lou literally actually gave me a foot massage while I was writing to you, I think because she feels I’ve been patient and attendant to her needs, which I have been but you all know I enjoy being responsive and useful. Hence the event work. Hence a lot of what I do. Theatre, when they let me.

And so to bed. Chamomile and snuggles.

I’m meeting a flight at Gatwick. Got my chauffeur’s cap in the car. Today a spot of convergence where I sent a tape for the part of a driver. Dayjob meets jobjob. I’d be pleased to land it, a fun little scene. Driving someone famous and not knowing them and asking all the benign and slightly clueless questions that drivers ask performers. I’ve been on both ends of it frequently. I drove over to Frank as I figured he’d know who the person was. I was as benignly clueless as my character, but they’ve just won a load of awards and it’s good. The tape was a spot of manifesting. “I could really use a tape this weekend, just to keep momentum rolling,” I said to myself out loud half an hour before it came in on Friday afternoon. Busy weekend so the window was early but now it’s all done and dusted I can know that I’ve pinged out some energy and intention. Now I can sink into the weekend.

We parked in the vacant doctors area of a local surgery closed on the weekend. I had a tripod but I ended up tying my phone to the rearview mirror with a mobile phone charging cable. Natural light through the side window, a perfect day for it. My first outdoor self tape. Some background noise, the usual London things, but no interrupted takes and it was easy to get the full length shot that is often fiddly if you’re inside, I just had to stand against a wall. Boxes all ticked, caught up with Frank, didn’t take too much time. Two contrasting versions, one largely keeping it dry, riffing at the end, one in my chauffeur’s hat being looser. Fly, my precious. Fly!

—

Met Lou’s flight and took her back to Brighton. It’s 2 in the morning and I’m absolutely exhausted but haven’t seen Lou for ages so trying to balance the imperative to write this with the desire to catch up. She’s had lots of experiences out there. North Africa. I’ve never been. Likely I’d do well out there with my French and my love of heat.

Tessy is being extremely vocal, I think a bit discombobulated by the changing of the guards. She’s looking for Moss who looks after her and gives her snacks. I’m too tired to be kept awake but hopefully she’ll settle.

Tomorrow a calm day by the seaside hopefully. A decompression. Little sparks of energy have been sent out to the world at large for the vocation so I can legit relax for a moment before starting to run with the torch again on Monday.

And so to bed.

8pm and I’m trying to trick my brain to bed. All the bed things, the bath. Even clean sheets. The sphinxes are in place.

White and black. Room for me in the middle.

Clean sheets, even. I should go to sleep pretty easily. Tomorrow it is back on an old work train.

The National Grid, with a new STEM outreach campaign. I’m well placed to deliver this content. The majority of my best friends from childhood are engineers of one kind or another now. I’m an actor. In theatre it is an advantage to have a good view of the technical side of the art. I can stay out of the way of stage management. I know how things work well enough not to be a douche. Put things back, take care of the details, hang your costume nicely at the end of the day etc. In film obviously it’s largely a technical medium. Even just getting how you will have to contort your body to get round the camera so that specific shot will work – knowing how to place your eyeline, how to make a natural move that gets you into frame when it matters… technical stuff. It’s about lots more than “doing that feeling”, folks, despite what you’ve been told by people who want to mystify themselves or their stars. It’s a craft. And largely with music and lighting they will “do the feeling” despite you.

Some computer game journo wrote an article about why a big studio boss went with the “in every game” actor despite initially not wanting to. “They did an emotional thing in their tape that none of the others did.” AKA they pulled a trick and you fell for it. Most of the actors that taped would have been capable of pulling the same trick on demand. Taste or lack of confidence in the games medium might have caused them not to do it. When you make a pitch for work and send a tape it’s often tempting to make it broad, as … we can all do the job. It’s only in the last year I’ve started to think how it actually might help to make pitches more specific. I hate closing options, but when there’s no time for rehearsal as with most tv and film just… learn the stuff and spam out a specific clear offer. “They showed an emotion in their tape that none of the other actors did.” AKA “They did a cry when it wasn’t needed and none of the other actors did that so they are the only cryactorperson we’ve ever met.” But that’s the games medium. Lots of the makers are what they call “spicy” these days. They, as an industry, realised pretty quickly that they shouldn’t star in their own videos. Some great game makers can probably be astonished by people who have actual human emotions.

But yeah so I’m already back on the dayjob wagon and shameless about it. We have to live and we have to do things that bring us into contact with not-us, so we get better and better. And then we have to fight the powah. Only a few agents that get the bulk of the jobs, not with one of them? Find a way. I love my agent, wouldn’t shift right now. Maybe when she retires, but certainly never before. She’s a goodie, gets me, I just wish I’d met her a decade before.

Brian and I made an executive decision to free Boo from her cone purgatory today. Suture came out and it’s healing well. She doesn’t seem too inclined to gnaw at herself. And that cone feels like cruelty. She hates it, I hate pretending I can’t take it off. Time to trust her.

Today was about helping some young actors. Six of them, all women, all doing a show directed by an old dear collaborator. Hanna and I believed in things and tried to do them. She’s extremely precise, driven and clear. I worked with her a few times in the early days and it was always insightful and a happy show. She’s directing some young’uns in one of those “oh god I really hope someone comes to this” shows that I did so many of when I was punting for agents. Nobody ever came.

It’s up in Redbridge, and the tribe is coming together to help make it work. Nobody has any money. Alex runs Questors Theatre in Ealing these days, I remember him from way back when at The Finborough when we were young and less sexy. Alex has lent them some crucial bits of set. I was transport. Pick ’em up, drop ’em off. Ealing to Redbridge and honest to god that drama centre really is in the middle of nowhere, driving back while avoiding the congestion charge I might as well have gone to Brighton. Still I’ll likely be back there Monday night to pick up the set again. Nobody else will. And it fits in Bergman. And I’ll get to see a good show.

It will be good too. These guys are recent graduates from Rose Bruford and the scourge of academia has not so badly polluted their training. Lots of old institutions are now turning out critics, people generally not well placed to be in practice, theorists and writers perhaps but from places that used to make actors. The state has taken over. Uncertainty is necessary in a creative grounding. Institutions like certainty. The universities are gradually murdering the vocational actor trainings in the name of record keeping. I think Rose B has still avoided the worst of it for now.

So I’ll go and enjoy a show I’ve had a tiny part in making a reality. Who knows what the continuation will be? The one thing I’m surprised I didn’t have to bring is a hatstand. They tend to congregate in theatres at that level, and nowhere else these days.

I was sad this evening cos it was cold and dark again. So I made steak and chips and played “How Fish is Made” which is utterly pointless. Can’t be bad.

Ten peeyem. I’m in bed. What?

Yeah so Ffi and I had a meeting today. We made an insta for it. @alandffi . Early days and we haven’t been accumulating images. Photographers have taken wonderful shots, but they’ve always been for the client. Now is as good a time as ever to start aggregating what we have. We are trying to make sense of the fact that we have been good at this shit for decades. And we are pricing ourselves accordingly.

I find the whole thing exhausting. It’s like… yeah we can do this, we are good at this, we can deliver to your client and make it fun for them. But we can’t do it for fuck all, and we certainly can’t build new things for you for nowt. I had to learn to put a price tag on myself. Perhaps I also had to learn how to earn a price tag. But yeah, I can sort your entertainment stuff out, and practical up your idea. I can’t be fantasy magic human, but if you are realistic and you aren’t trying to get gold for the price of silver, I can make your entertainment happen better than you thought for a competitive price that likely outguns the cokeheads I’ve had to duck my head for in the past. I’m thinking of a big old door and a horrible coke boy and me doing a fucking great job despite him, timing things perfectly. The problem with coke is people lose perspective. I’m very happy it’s nothing to do with my life, that shit. Arsehole powder.

So I’m home having pitched … something. And I’ve started to see why Jon bailed out. They can swiftly ask for the impossible. Ideas ideas ideas but with no real view on what these ideas can cost.

I want to make everything function nicely for everyone. But that’s just my crap. I’m gonna go to bed now and see where I am in the morning. They are interested in Mel and her snake Tarot, but she quite rightly says “show me the money” and actually that’s the key to this madness. We either get paid or we don’t, and there’s no point doing this if we don’t get paid, we aren’t here for fun.

I need to clear up my wiki etc. Such a huge amount of bollocks. Anyone fancy a wiki exchange?

It’s Jethro’s birthday. The 24th and the edge of summer. Light returning, heat returning. Our little cat friend has got to be a whole week still in her cone. I honestly thought she’d be done by now. She hates that cone, it weighs her down. It’s not the Boo I’m familiar with. Poor baby.

Meanwhile once again I’ve got dental fun. My repeated abscess tooth has carved out a huge well in my gum and bone where infection can develop and grow. Since one tooth got pulled I’ve been waiting for it all to go to crap again. Tonight it is manifesting again oh joy. I’m gonna wait and see if the infection is something my body knows, as it only hurts so much right now and natural is better than artificial. Yeah I’ve got my codeine and two different options for antibiotics should it all go to fuckery. I’ve learned to be prepared as I can’t just randomly take days off work like so many people. I’ve honed myself for an acting career that is even more complete than the one I’m experiencing. If I’m gonna have a tooth flare up I need to have multiple options to destroy it so I can do my job. I’ve still got three courses of Cipromax from the Saudis. But ideally I’ll use one of the gentler courses I’ve hoarded over the years.

I’m gonna try and fix myself with self care first. Early bed, good brushing, all that malarkey. No harm in trying. I’ll try and sleep on my left, but I know that’ll just mean me snoring as unless I can gravity lock myself I end up on my back, and there’s a wall on my left. Still gonna try.

The light was strong today, a statement of intent. We are coming home now, back to a world where we don’t have to pay hundreds and hundreds of pounds just to not be somewhere cold.

I’ve been looking at eBay again today. I bought some cards to resell, and they got shilled up to my maximum bid which was more or less exactly 50% of their resell value and eBay can’t see it. I’ve remembered that aspect of me between jobs where I just start looking at potential harmless profit. Little jobs here and there, whatever the hell is available. I once had a monster observe my odd job economy and think it was common. At the time I was using various tasker websites to bump up income, but largely the economy didn’t work. I dunno where he is now. He owes me £400 in borrowed money and about 6 grand in unpaid wages. He pumped and dumped and jumped. Probably in prison now. Last we spoke it was for a short term loan (likely drugs, it was a last minute panic of his. I used to give a fuck before I computed how much he fucked me for on a job.) I told him if he paid me back £400 I’d consider loaning him £300. He didn’t follow through. Hey ho. Likely that’s that.

I’m off to bed. I’m enjoying the fact it’s J’s birthday. He and I have noticed many curious alignments over the years. There’s still much to do. I’ve got it and there’s nothing you can do about it cos you’ve got it so there’s nothing I can do about it cos I’ve etc etc until infinity.

Spring. February is finally throwing its weight around, or is it Jethro? Either way, a lovely day.

I’m home. Southampton is even quicker to get to than Brighton, believe it or not. Yeah it’s also where the Rotterdam cast got egged outside the theatre for “They’re not normal”, so in many ways the extra half hour is worth it to get to Brighton. “Someone’s car got keyed in our street but they’re an out there drag queen”. “But…” 😦

But … It was a glorious stay. Man things, manfully manned. I’m often very metro in my social habits. But there’s a geek deep down that occasionally likes to come and take things that aren’t serious seriously.

I’m glad it was quick home to my little refuge in Chelsea. Being in my warm flat suddenly started feeling like a very good idea as the wind and weather closed in. We were originally planning to have a morning game session but the coterie was disbanded and I thought it best not to outstay my welcome.

I stopped at Tesco once back in town and bought one of those chickens they can sell cradle to grave for £3.50. You can feed a lot of people out of that screaming horror. I allowed it today. There have been many times I’ve gone and found something freerange for three times that amount or more and felt better about myself. Today my thinking was not well sharpened. I got the bird. And broccoli. And asparagus. And taters. And then I could just go home, be thoughtless, shove it in the oven.

Poor creature was so ill kept the process of cooking split it in two. Still I made much food from it and shared it, stripped the thing of meat, fed it to the flatmates and myself. Sunday roast. Brian even put some Yorkshire puddings in the air fryer. Frozen but ready in minutes. I need to learn how to make them from scratch, those gravy sponges. Surely as easy as a bit of batter and some hot oil. They weren’t necessary for a complete roast in my childhood household, so I still consider them to be luxuries.

Meanwhile Lou is in Essaouira, with sun and wind, playing the adventure card I can’t play right now. I’m enjoying her photos and continuing to be pedestrianAl in London.

It’s just gone 8 and once again sleep seems like the priority. It’s the cold… Can’t wait for spring now.

Ahhh an earlier bed.

Last night it was about 4am when I was trying to make words here, already mostly asleep, thinking about Lou on her adventure. We had been playing games. Last night Moonrakers and then Ticket to Ride Europe. Dan is a game designer and one of my oldest friends. He has adapted a few great board games for PC, tablet, VR or all of them. He’s occasionally used me to voice them too, going right back to his Morrowind mod “Scourge of the Lich Father”. We still align on games and we both still have play at the centre of our working lives. Just occasionally we get together with a couple of other lovely geeky men and we play these incredible board games.

It’s hard to find the time for these things, so you have to make it. These things go in the diary ages ahead. Last time I was in Paris. This time it aligned. February geeky game weekend. I brought Will’s copy of Atmosfear, which has been in my car since Jersey.

Today we walked the dog in the morning. Then bacon sandwiches. Being the nerds we are, there was a bottle of Blair’s Ultra Death. A hot sauce. 1.1 million scoville. I mixed a single drop into my ketchup and it almost killed me. I’m still coughing a tiny bit.

Today we played T.I.M.E Stories, which is a work of genius but it took about 5 hours. Cards and board and four of us. One of us made mai-tais before lunchtime and I thoughtlessly put them away despite knowing full well that it rarely goes well with me to have spirits. Early afternoon, once I was comfortable the bacon and hot sauce was digested, I resorted to the all too familiar means I somehow have normalised as a result of my journeys to Aya. Better out than in. After yesterday, I badly need to be non toxic. I refused the ensuing mixing and I’m in bed already, hours before midnight.

Last game of the day was Atmosfear. It’s atrociously wonderful. The era and mechanics of Trivial Pursuit, the technology and video production too. So camp, so ridiculously dumb. A belarussian “Gatekeeper” doing stuff that wouldn’t get him past round one at drama school. Some deliciously bad acting straight to camera. “scary” things. Obviously a game for kids, but we played it because we knew it can only last an hour. There’s charm there. I don’t think I’d ever want to play it again though. But there’s something about it that aligns with the modern games we have been playing, and something that aligns with how I have started to enjoy making or participating in immersive or gamey experiences. This one would need an overhaul but there are things that can be done with the mechanics and modern technology that might be very interesting. No time in the day though. Too busy earning / playing.

A gorgeous way to reconnect as friends. There’s love in the room, and history.

And now to bed at a normal time. More games tomorrow, but sober as I’m gonna home late afternoon. Boo gets her cone off tomorrow.