Blog
AA week in the life of...
20/05/2022 - Thomas{The Things That Keep Me Awake At Night}
I said farewell to my last grandparent on Sunday. Lovely
little send off, down at Gravesend Rowing Club, possibly his favourite place on
earth. I say ‘Grandad’, we didn’t call him that. We called him ‘Pipey’. Why?
Because he smoked a pipe.
This weekend I’m best man at a wedding. I’ll likely wear the
same suit. I’ve been scribbling away at a best man speech, making a feeble
attempt to avoid toilet humour before caving. I remember a time when I hadn’t
been to single wedding - now I’ve lost count.
Another friend’s second child is due any day now. His
second! How’s he going to afford that? I can barely afford a Tesco meal deal.
Stuff just keeps happening. Things, events, moments,
parties, gatherings, meetings, occasions, wakes, weddings, festivals. Thing
after thing after thing after thing. Like, when exactly did I turn 32? Time
doesn’t keep time, it accelerates. Someone has broken the metronome. Just
remember how long the ‘6 week holidays’ used to feel. Bloody ages, that’s what!
An actual age. A lifetime of holiday and play. Nowadays what’s 6 weeks? I
practically had Covid for 6 weeks. It feels like you’re going 120mph on a
German autobahn and every now and then you realise you don’t remember a single
moment of the drive and now you’re in Switzerland thinking “Man, I never even
stopped off for a pretzel.”
It’s mad that today our bodies spend roughly 25 years, give
or take, to reach its ‘peak’, then almost 3 times longer than that to slowly
degrade and melt away. To avoid the sudden sharpness of that odd “How did I get
here?” feeling, I’m going to try and actively enjoy the act of disintegrating,
like a charming little sugar cube in a lovely cup of tea. Just remember to
actually drink the tea before it gets cold.
Lots of love
Tom
06/05/2022 - Cole{The Things That Keep Me Awake At Night}
Finances
Ukraine
The Cat
Day Job
…And not necessarily in that order.
Last night we had to keep the cat in
because he’s been pissing all over the house and we needed to ‘capture’ a urine
sample. Lovely, I hope you’re not eating. He scratched at the locked cat flap
all night and I woke up to an absolute poo-pocalypse on our new living room
rug. I really enjoyed my morning exercise cleaning that up, thanks for that
buddy.
Adding vet bills to the national insurance
hike, energy bill explosion and general cost of living, which is another reason
I wake up with a tight chest and a nervous disposition. We’re now paying for
all the ‘emergency relief’ we received during the pandemic, even though I
didn’t actually claim any.
Meanwhile we get a daily article saying
that Putin and Russia will pay heavily for their aggression, but we are yet to
see any real consequences as international war criminals becomes the norm,
setting quite the precedent on the world stage. It’s like being transported
back to the 1960s, which is enough to give you palpitations throughout the
night.
Meanwhile I miss the rehearsal room! I miss
a creative output! Otherwise I’m just a minute cog in a very dull and
unimportant machine and spend my nights jittering under the covers like someone
going cold turkey.
Anyway, back to my poop scooping, perhaps I
could chuck it about the house a bit next time and create some form of modern
art piece akin to Pollock painting.
Cole
29/04/2022 - Lilac{The Things That Keep Me Awake At Night}
Dear new old friend,
This blog is written while
eating a vegan Biscoff cheesecake from Costa. They’re not endorsing this or
anything but I thought I would tell you as a way to set up the scene. To let
you know that at this very moment, I’m writing to you with a birthday cake by
my side. When I moved to London over 10 years ago, it was nearly impossible to
find vegan cakes – let alone vegan cheesecakes. And now they’re there in
supermarkets, shops and cafes taking their place next to dairyful products.
This accelerated development makes me think about what other things could
benefit from this kind of rapid growth.
I didn’t write to you for a
while and I’m sorry. You may have noticed that I managed to miss two blog
rounds. Apologies. Strangely, though being quite a chatty person I found myself
unable to express what I was going through. Not by writing it and not by
speaking about it out load. There have been a lot of changes happening, both in
my work life and my health and all of it got on top of me. And I didn’t know
how to put it in writing in a helpful way.
Not that things always need
to be put in writing in an helpful way – but –
I didn’t have one – a helpful
way or an unhelpful way to say that I’m stressed. I’m behind on all my
deadlines. I’m sending emails late on a daily basis and every week something
weird happens. My ankle hurts and I can’t stand on my leg for no reason. My
stomach feels weird. I book a Zumba class and forget that I parked my car in a
place where I might get fined and I run to move the car and miss the Zumba. And
get fined for missing the Zumba. And my ankle hurts again and the world is such
an inaccessible place sometimes and I’m stuck in a loop.
Doctors tell me that all
these things are caused by stress. And I find it hard to believe. But should I
find it hard to believe when extreme stress can change our bodies so
drastically to our core?
Then all of a sudden,
yesterday, I had the most wonderful day, directing Jamie Hale’s I Want to Live
at Theatre Royal Stratford East as part of the Burn it Down Series. I worked
with a group of exceptional actors, a BSL consultant, technical team and Sign
Language interpreters. I got to direct on a main house stage for the first time
in my life. Something which I spoke about repeatedly for the last 3 years. It
was fulfilling and I left feeling like I found something that I lost during my
health scares.
The stress is there because
what I do matters to me. Striving to do it better and reach more people matters
to me. And sometimes because it matters, it’s hard to let go of the fact that
it is work but it is not everything.
How do we find the balance?
Between loving what we do and loving ourselves enough to put clear boundaries?
To find a work flow which allows us to flourish and thrive without killing ourselves
in the process?
I don’t have a full answer to
that.
But I do feel that it starts
with making space to exist without reaching final conclusions or ticking to do
lists.
Just sit, with your own
version of a vegan Biscoff cheesecake and savour the moment.
And having those people
around that help you savour the moments, that remind you who you are. I’m
incredibly grateful for the gang of people I can turn to in my life.
And on that note, the only
thing that I can add is that if you are struggling at the moment then I am
sending you my kindest most positive thoughts. Don’t sit in the stress alone.
Hope you have a very lovely
weekend and may the sunshine come back to us soon,
Until next time,
Lilac
Ps
Costa management, if you are
thinking about endorsements do get in touch ;)
15/04/2022 - Sam{The Things That Keep Me Awake At Night}
The
temptation with a topic like this is just to list all the many ways in which
the world seems to be on fire right now. But that’s not really what keeps me up
at night. Like Izzi, I must also confess to being an inveterate late night
scroller - 1 more article can’t hurt, it’s only short! But even then, once I’ve
finally managed to unlock my fingers from around my phone I also have to admit
that there’s really not much that keeps me awake - my head hits the pillow and
I’m out. Whether this is a result of sheer exhaustion or some unexplored
psychological breakthrough that I should now market to all the other late-night
scrollers out there, I don’t know, what I do know is that it’s a very fortunate
position to be in!
Continuing
the theme of good fortune and returning to the idea of the world on fire, I
give you the luxury of numbness. I can’t be the only one who, when faced with
the overwhelming amount of bad news, responds by turning off. Again, as bizarre
as it might sound, having the ability to turn off the awareness of or emotions
related to specific events truly is a luxury. For those being directly affected
there is no escaping it, they can’t just become numb to it for a day and worry
about replying to all their emails instead. And yet, I can’t fix every single
issue at once and if I were to try to, or if I were to carry the emotional
burden of desiring to fix them all the time, I would quickly burn out. So how
do I avoid becoming desensitized and numb to other’s problems, while also
making sure that I’m not crushed by the overwhelming scope of them?
I
suppose, this ultimately comes down to discernment. It comes down to
recognising what I can do to help (and then doing that!) and also recognising
what I personally cannot change and learning to let go of that. Provided I am
working to help where I can (and this is a crucial proviso), then letting go of
the rest is the wise choice. In fact, I suppose I have help in doing this
second part because I believe that I am not the only force for change that I have
to rely on. I believe in a God of justice and mercy who is fighting on behalf
of the oppressed, so the things that I cannot change I can take to Him. This
may seem like a ludicrous idea to some of you, especially given the state of
the world, but, for anyone interested, have a read of the Old Testament poetry
of Habbakuk, which is all about someone struggling to find God amidst the
violence and injustice of society.
So
in conclusion, perhaps it’s not that there are things keeping me awake at
night, but that there are things I should be more awake to during the day.
Until
next time, I leave you in thoughtfulness and with hope for future justice.
Sam
Until next time, I leave you in thoughtfulness and with hope for future justice.
08/04/2022 - Isabel{The Things That Keep Me Awake At Night}
Scroll,
scroll, scroll.
Weddings.
Babies.
Not
another party at number ten, are you joking…
Why
am I getting emotional at a video of a rescued puppy?
War
in Ukraine.
Scroll,
scroll, scroll.
Been
really good taking a break from Twitter - maybe I should just stay off it for
good?
Cost
of living rises.
Scroll.
Oooh - forgot to do my Duolingo. Don’t want to ruin that 700 day streak.
Did
I buy milk?
Article
on BBC Breaking News. Might as well read that while I’m here.
I’ll
do a quick Wordle…
Scroll.
God,
the news is bleak at the moment
Scroll.
This
article in the Guardian is making me feel really bad about accidentally putting
that plastic bottle in a regular bin and not the recycling earlier.
Scroll.
FUCK
- forgot to reply to that email. Should do it now, or I’ll forget tomorrow.
I
said I wouldn’t answer messages after 11pm but…
Scroll.
Which
Succession character are you? Don’t mind if I do, Buzzfeed.*
Scroll.
Shit
- should probably plan my route for this meeting tomorrow.
Did
I set my alarm?
Better
check.
Scroll.
Oh
fuck.
How
is it midnight already?!
This
can’t just be me, can it? I’m not the only one who keeps making jokes about
being way too tired in my thirties, while secretly knowing I’d probably get a
better night’s sleep if I just put. my. phone. away.
I
earn most of my money from freelance marketing [hello, deep dive into social
media each week], and as a playwright, my laptop is pretty much the source of
hours and hours of research right across the world wide web. So, even though
I'm so reliant on it, is it normal to worry that the internet is slowly killing
my brain cells?
I
like to understand things. In all honesty, that’s why I’m a writer. I like to
take a topic, turn it inside out, see what it’s like from different
perspectives. It’s mad, but also sort of a gift, that with modern technology
you can find something you’re interested in and spend a few days deep diving
into an entire backstory to fully know it better from the comfort of your desk.
I’m doing a writers’ residency right now where I’ve spent a ton of time sifting
through old news stories, watching documentaries, downloading journals and
articles, all to better understand the central topic of the play and to make it
mean something IRL.
I’m
also a terrible, terrible sleeper, and I wonder if the two are connected.
As
creatives, I think it’s fair to say many of us have a tendency to overthink.
Look, I know plenty of artists who are a lot more zen than I am - but I think
that’s a discipline rather than an inherent way of being. Because thinking
deeply about things is how a lot of us tick. It’s how we approach telling
stories, especially when we want to tell them well. The trouble is, as a
chronic overthinker in a world that seems to be largely on fire, I’m beginning
to wonder how being plugged into information 24/7 is affecting me.
In
February I decided to take a month off Twitter - I’m an irregular user of
Facebook and Instagram but that Godforsaken bird site accounts for a large
percentage of my daily scrolling. I’ve popped back in a couple of times briefly
since then… but I’m shocked to discover I don’t really miss it. If I’m being
honest, I’m surprised.
I
used to think that the best way to be ‘good’ at being an artist was to make
sure I was ahead of everything that was happening around me. I’m beginning to
realise, as I get older and maybe a little bit wiser, that the more you try to
do that, the noisier it gets. And while as an extrovert, I love being part of
conversations - being a good writer also means getting comfortable with
silence. Because often, that’s where ideas arise from the cacophony of ‘stuff’
in your head and begin to work themselves out into something tangible.
Who
knows whether I’ll learn something from my decreased screentime, or whether
those algorithms will suck me back in. I’ll let you know next blog.
Isabel
*Shiv Roy, for what it’s worth. Not sure how I feel about this
25/03/2022 - Josephine{The Things That Keep Me Awake At Night}
It’s my birthday soon. Actually, depending on when you read this, it might even be today.
I don’t really like my birthday. I much prefer other people’s. I find celebrating them easy. I find celebrating myself hard. Really hard.
For the first time ever, I’ve started feeling old. Kind of consistently old. I’m injured at the moment, and I can’t run, and my body doesn’t feel like my own. It feels achey and stiff, and soft, probably through the lack of movement, and around me there are weddings, and babies and promotions and marathons and lots of societal milestones that have nothing to do with me, but that I’m keenly aware, are very much not mine. They’re things I don’t have. Things I haven’t done.
I got a haircut the other day, and I sent a photo of it to a friend (I think it may have been a mistake. The haircut, not the friend) and I suddenly saw lines and wrinkles on my face where there hadn’t been lines and wrinkles before. Who is this person, I thought?
I always get reflective around this time of year, and it’s hard not to see myself through the eyes of societal norms, which dictate we should all want a family, a steady income. And it’s usually around this time of year I wonder if I have actually wanted those things all along, and I’ve made some big mistakes and bad choices and….
You see where this is going. If you’ve trodden this path too (or fallen down this hole), then hi! It’s nice to have some company here, knee-deep in the quagmire of ‘what ifs.’
Anyway, there I was, wondering quite how I arrived in my late 30’s when I still felt about 19, on the bus to the theatre. I was on the way to see a friend in the last night of a show, and to be honest, I was feeling like I could have done without it.
I’m so glad I went.
What I got to experience was the story of a woman, a grown, emotional, spirited, wild woman who had loved, lost, lived, fought and died. And it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t young. It was honest and it was real. And only someone who had lived could tell that story.
I needed that piece of theatre that day. I needed that story from that messy, fierce, lived-in woman. I really, really hope I can do the same for someone else at some point in the future.
Scroll,
scroll, scroll.
Weddings.
Babies.
Not
another party at number ten, are you joking…
Why
am I getting emotional at a video of a rescued puppy?
War
in Ukraine.
Scroll,
scroll, scroll.
Been
really good taking a break from Twitter - maybe I should just stay off it for
good?
Cost
of living rises.
Scroll.
Oooh - forgot to do my Duolingo. Don’t want to ruin that 700 day streak.
Did
I buy milk?
Article
on BBC Breaking News. Might as well read that while I’m here.
I’ll
do a quick Wordle…
Scroll.
God,
the news is bleak at the moment
Scroll.
This
article in the Guardian is making me feel really bad about accidentally putting
that plastic bottle in a regular bin and not the recycling earlier.
Scroll.
FUCK
- forgot to reply to that email. Should do it now, or I’ll forget tomorrow.
I
said I wouldn’t answer messages after 11pm but…
Scroll.
Which
Succession character are you? Don’t mind if I do, Buzzfeed.*
Scroll.
Shit
- should probably plan my route for this meeting tomorrow.
Did
I set my alarm?
Better
check.
Scroll.
Oh
fuck.
How
is it midnight already?!
This
can’t just be me, can it? I’m not the only one who keeps making jokes about
being way too tired in my thirties, while secretly knowing I’d probably get a
better night’s sleep if I just put. my. phone. away.
I
earn most of my money from freelance marketing [hello, deep dive into social
media each week], and as a playwright, my laptop is pretty much the source of
hours and hours of research right across the world wide web. So, even though
I'm so reliant on it, is it normal to worry that the internet is slowly killing
my brain cells?
I
like to understand things. In all honesty, that’s why I’m a writer. I like to
take a topic, turn it inside out, see what it’s like from different
perspectives. It’s mad, but also sort of a gift, that with modern technology
you can find something you’re interested in and spend a few days deep diving
into an entire backstory to fully know it better from the comfort of your desk.
I’m doing a writers’ residency right now where I’ve spent a ton of time sifting
through old news stories, watching documentaries, downloading journals and
articles, all to better understand the central topic of the play and to make it
mean something IRL.
I’m
also a terrible, terrible sleeper, and I wonder if the two are connected.
As
creatives, I think it’s fair to say many of us have a tendency to overthink.
Look, I know plenty of artists who are a lot more zen than I am - but I think
that’s a discipline rather than an inherent way of being. Because thinking
deeply about things is how a lot of us tick. It’s how we approach telling
stories, especially when we want to tell them well. The trouble is, as a
chronic overthinker in a world that seems to be largely on fire, I’m beginning
to wonder how being plugged into information 24/7 is affecting me.
In
February I decided to take a month off Twitter - I’m an irregular user of
Facebook and Instagram but that Godforsaken bird site accounts for a large
percentage of my daily scrolling. I’ve popped back in a couple of times briefly
since then… but I’m shocked to discover I don’t really miss it. If I’m being
honest, I’m surprised.
I
used to think that the best way to be ‘good’ at being an artist was to make
sure I was ahead of everything that was happening around me. I’m beginning to
realise, as I get older and maybe a little bit wiser, that the more you try to
do that, the noisier it gets. And while as an extrovert, I love being part of
conversations - being a good writer also means getting comfortable with
silence. Because often, that’s where ideas arise from the cacophony of ‘stuff’
in your head and begin to work themselves out into something tangible.
Who
knows whether I’ll learn something from my decreased screentime, or whether
those algorithms will suck me back in. I’ll let you know next blog.
Isabel
*Shiv Roy, for what it’s worth. Not sure how I feel about this
It’s my birthday soon. Actually, depending on when you read this, it might even be today.
I don’t really like my birthday. I much prefer other people’s. I find celebrating them easy. I find celebrating myself hard. Really hard.
For the first time ever, I’ve started feeling old. Kind of consistently old. I’m injured at the moment, and I can’t run, and my body doesn’t feel like my own. It feels achey and stiff, and soft, probably through the lack of movement, and around me there are weddings, and babies and promotions and marathons and lots of societal milestones that have nothing to do with me, but that I’m keenly aware, are very much not mine. They’re things I don’t have. Things I haven’t done.
I got a haircut the other day, and I sent a photo of it to a friend (I think it may have been a mistake. The haircut, not the friend) and I suddenly saw lines and wrinkles on my face where there hadn’t been lines and wrinkles before. Who is this person, I thought?
I always get reflective around this time of year, and it’s hard not to see myself through the eyes of societal norms, which dictate we should all want a family, a steady income. And it’s usually around this time of year I wonder if I have actually wanted those things all along, and I’ve made some big mistakes and bad choices and….
You see where this is going. If you’ve trodden this path too (or fallen down this hole), then hi! It’s nice to have some company here, knee-deep in the quagmire of ‘what ifs.’
Anyway, there I was, wondering quite how I arrived in my late 30’s when I still felt about 19, on the bus to the theatre. I was on the way to see a friend in the last night of a show, and to be honest, I was feeling like I could have done without it.
I’m so glad I went.
What I got to experience was the story of a woman, a grown, emotional, spirited, wild woman who had loved, lost, lived, fought and died. And it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t young. It was honest and it was real. And only someone who had lived could tell that story.
I needed that piece of theatre that day. I needed that story from that messy, fierce, lived-in woman. I really, really hope I can do the same for someone else at some point in the future.
11/03/2022 - Sam{Home}
Well, it’s still all a bit shit isn’t it! Despite the expletive this is a colossal understatement and as a result my thoughts on the subject of home feel rather inconsequential. But the blog must go on so brace yourself for much ado about nothing!
(Still reading? Here goes then!)
As a child “home” always seemed like such a simple word to me, but having left this naïve, blinkered childhood perspective behind (having been fortunate enough to have been able to exist there in the first place) it quickly became clear that it is a complex and troubled concept. Perhaps that’s why every single Althea show has, to one extent or another, grappled with the question of “where or what is home?”.
As Cole pointed out in his blog, even if one is fortunate enough to have a house, it’s not the same as having a home, and as Izzi reminded us, the daily news from Ukraine highlights, yet again, how quickly the supposed security of “home” can disappear.
So, if the reality of “home” is so ephemeral and vulnerable, why do we still chase after it? Why do we strive so hard to create it? Perhaps, because, in spite of everything, we still have hope and faith. Faith that it is possible to belong in a place or with other people, and hope that one day we will find such a place.
May you hold onto this faith and hope in the face of all adversity.
Sam
(Still reading? Here goes then!)
As a child “home” always seemed like such a simple word to me, but having left this naïve, blinkered childhood perspective behind (having been fortunate enough to have been able to exist there in the first place) it quickly became clear that it is a complex and troubled concept. Perhaps that’s why every single Althea show has, to one extent or another, grappled with the question of “where or what is home?”.
As Cole pointed out in his blog, even if one is fortunate enough to have a house, it’s not the same as having a home, and as Izzi reminded us, the daily news from Ukraine highlights, yet again, how quickly the supposed security of “home” can disappear.
So, if the reality of “home” is so ephemeral and vulnerable, why do we still chase after it? Why do we strive so hard to create it? Perhaps, because, in spite of everything, we still have hope and faith. Faith that it is possible to belong in a place or with other people, and hope that one day we will find such a place.
May you hold onto this faith and hope in the face of all adversity.
Sam
04/03/2022 - Isabel{Home}
I’m writing to you from my sofa, which is a
big achievement, because last time I wrote one of these blogs I didn’t actually
have a sofa. Bear with me while I backtrack slightly…
Last blog, I was writing about Day 6 of our
R+D process. When I was writing, I’d just moved into a new flat and had pretty
much no furniture or internet (in fact I’m pretty sure I bashed out that blog
at the local Costa, eking out a tea for several hours so I could catch up with
all of my work on the free wifi). And getting super-meta for a moment, I wrote
in that blog about having just moved
out of my last place during the R+D. So for the last few blogs, work for Althea
and thinking about home have gone hand in hand for me. It’s a fitting topic to have as my title this month, because
it feels like it pulls the last few entries together.
Which makes me think -
maybe home (or at the very least our sense of belonging
somewhere) is a way for us to make
sense of the world?
I’ve been here for nearly three months now,
and it’s just about starting to feel less like a mess of boxes and to do lists
and more like … well, a home. I’m getting to know my new neighbourhood, making
pancakes with my new flatmate, and learning a lot of useful DIY skills (I can
caulk now!) I can feel myself
growing and putting down new roots, gradually finding a new way to settle after
a few months of sofa surfing and living out of a suitcase.
But this week, I’ve watched
everything going on in the world - especially the images of people in Ukraine
fleeing the conflict - and it’s been a somber reminder of just how lucky we are
when we have a place to belong. My sofa has become the place where I watch the
TV or scroll social media, trying to stay ahead of the news as it changes hour
by hour.
If our home is our space to
make sense of the world, then what must it be like to have that ripped away?
I don’t have an answer, and
I don’t think any of us do. But in a blog where my feelings about home seem to
have come to a conclusion, it’s a strange contrast to know that all over the
world, people are just beginning to live a new reality where theirs has been
taken away. It’s a reminder that home isn’t just a new sofa or a set of boxes
to unpack - it’s people, feelings, memories, all the things that make us human.
It’s important to remember it in those terms when we think about how to
respond. It’s how I hope - possibly a bit too optimistically - that politicians
and organizations will hold the idea of home in mind as they think about how to
act in the coming days and weeks. Fingers crossed I’m right.
Wherever you are right now,
I hope you feel at home - and I hope you’re safe.
Izzi
25/02/2022 - Cole{Home}
What a bizarre week to write about the
subject of ‘Home’.
We no longer have to self isolate at home
if we test positive for Covid, even though vulnerable people, especially in
deprived areas, are still at risk. Sums Boris and his government up perfectly
really, trying to win back the support of his unruly backbenchers and wider
public at the expense of the less privileged and more vulnerable in our
society. It’s all smoke and mirrors, bringing me onto the other reason ‘Home’
is such a bizarre subject this week.
People in the Ukraine are questioning
whether they will have a home soon enough, as Putin decides that he is in
charge of separating out the eastern block and what is a country and what
isn’t. But it’s all fine, you know, all these Russian troops in Eastern Ukraine
are ‘peacekeepers’, so I’m sure everything will work out for the best and there
will be zero blood shed. Smoke and mirrors. I’m also sure these sanctions, the
European equivalent of a ‘don’t you dare’, will really carry some weight.
On a slightly more upbeat note and leading
into my third and final reason that this week is so bizarre to write about the
subject of ‘Home’, I’m finally moving into my new house (literally on the day
this blog is due to be released)! It’s been a long time coming and I am very
excited to finally call a place home for probably the first time, properly, in
13 years, ever since I left my family home for University. As the housing
market is so ridiculously hard to ‘get on’ for our generation, especially
living in London for so many years, I never thought I’d be in this position. In
retrospect I never realised how displaced I felt, moving from one overpriced
rental to another, never truly having a place to call Home. I’m very much looking forward to putting some roots down and
being in the same place for longer than a year this time around.
Hopefully WWIII doesn’t break out and ruin
it all.
Cole
11/02/2022 - Carolina{Belonging}
Belonging
So many things popped
into my head when I knew my next blog was about ‘belonging’. The times I felt I belonged: Usually doing a
project or a play or being part of a theatre company like Althea. (As
Tom Wingfield and Tom Shah pointed out in their blogs).
But also, the many
times I felt a didn’t quite belong: Like being the only Jewish girl in an
all-girls catholic school during my adolescence in Colombia.
In the end, I decided
to do something different, so here’s a little poem for you, I hope you enjoy
it.
Carolina.
BELONG
To be,
Be,
Be,
Belong.
To long,
Long,
Long,
Longing to belong…
Belong.
To Belong.
Let yourself be,
Let yourself be to be,
Let yourself be to
belong,
Let yourself BE to BELONG.
04/02/2022 - Tom{Belonging}
Last week Tom touched on the transience of belonging when
you’re an actor; you take on a project, become consumed by it, make fast
friends with the other human beings that are also – temporarily – consumed by
it, and then it’s over. On to the next one, or, more likely, on to the next ‘rest’.
It’s usually a pretty bittersweet moment where the feeling of collective
achievement is tinged with an unwillingness to let it go. But it’s normally ok
because although we don’t necessarily have a fixed abode within the world of
work like a lot of people do, we do have our families and friends.
Recently I’ve had a few ‘normal’ jobs and I’ve found the
experience of leaving them a little overwhelming (2019 me would be more cynical
and bemused by the fuss that gets made) which is maybe a bit of an insight into
the community feeling that can exist when your contract doesn’t include an
end-date.
I think we’ve all felt a loss of connection over the past
two years when, for long periods of time, we’ve been physically cut-off from
the people and places we belong with and to. This time has reminded me how
lucky I am as an actor to be a member of a theatre company like this one. I’ve
seen all the members of Althea do extraordinary things over the years but it’s
been the ordinary things that have kept us together.
Tom
28/01/2022 - Thomas{Belonging}
Where exactly do you
‘belong’?
Which subscriptions
are you currently paying?
Where you’re from -
sure
Friends & family
- obviously
Your vocation?
For actors
‘belonging’ is a temporary affair. An exciting fling morphs briskly into
family, (cue Vin Diesel meme). You’ve found your home. Your people. Then final
curtain, big piss-up and *poof*
A morning glass of
Berocca for the recently orphaned.
Days go by
Weeks
Months
Years
Fuck, I’ve contracted
community immunity!
The vague plague
takes hold across the industry.
Number 10 holds a
press conference to outline restrictions for the lonely self-employed, the
directionless nomads.
“Actors, Showmen,
Great British Entertainers! It’s time for you to pull your weight - Next slide please -
We were left with no
choice but to spend the Arts budget on some vintage Shiraz for a rather lavish
birthda- *cough* work event.
Next slide please…
Ha! Gosh look at
that! There I am, I’m really rather munted in the photo aren’t I. Anyway yes…
if your theatre, company, training centre or community has had to close their
doors - tough titty! Peace out crusty’s!
Stay at home. Where
you belong.”
TV goes black
Guitar comes out
Stand looking
wistfully out the window
Strum G to Am to E7
“Where do I belong…
Will it beee long
before I beeelong”
Single malt tear
falls
Calm down son, chill
out. Change is in our nature. Belonging to somewhere or something doesn’t have
to be rigid. Be one with the ebb and flow and you’ll be found.
Much love
Tom
21/01/2022 - Josephine{Belonging}
Happy New Year!
Where exactly do you
‘belong’?
Which subscriptions
are you currently paying?
Where you’re from -
sure
Friends & family
- obviously
Your vocation?
For actors
‘belonging’ is a temporary affair. An exciting fling morphs briskly into
family, (cue Vin Diesel meme). You’ve found your home. Your people. Then final
curtain, big piss-up and *poof*
A morning glass of
Berocca for the recently orphaned.
Days go by
Weeks
Months
Years
Fuck, I’ve contracted
community immunity!
The vague plague
takes hold across the industry.
Number 10 holds a
press conference to outline restrictions for the lonely self-employed, the
directionless nomads.
“Actors, Showmen,
Great British Entertainers! It’s time for you to pull your weight - Next slide please -
We were left with no
choice but to spend the Arts budget on some vintage Shiraz for a rather lavish
birthda- *cough* work event.
Next slide please…
Ha! Gosh look at
that! There I am, I’m really rather munted in the photo aren’t I. Anyway yes…
if your theatre, company, training centre or community has had to close their
doors - tough titty! Peace out crusty’s!
Stay at home. Where
you belong.”
TV goes black
Guitar comes out
Stand looking
wistfully out the window
Strum G to Am to E7
“Where do I belong…
Will it beee long
before I beeelong”
Single malt tear
falls
Calm down son, chill
out. Change is in our nature. Belonging to somewhere or something doesn’t have
to be rigid. Be one with the ebb and flow and you’ll be found.
Much love
Tom
As we start a new round of blogs, we settled on the topic of Belonging. For me, this immediately conjures images of rehearsal rooms, of forming companies, sharing stories, vulnerabilities, taking steps into the unknown together. I’m always amazed at how fast a group of creatives go from being strangers in an unfamiliar room to being like family. The rehearsal room becomes a safe, well-loved, strong space to hold us all. We belong there.
With Lilac’s latest blog rounding up our experiences on the R&D back in October, it suddenly feels like a long time ago that we were sat in a circle, creating theatre.
Life doesn’t stop, of course. As the sun sets on one project, it will surely rise again in the morning, whatever your plans may be, and however ready you are to move on, or not.
Life has looked different for me for the last few months. A flurry of rejections meant there wasn’t anything creative on the horizon, and in an unexpected turn of events, an opportunity presented itself working within the NHS, as part of a team at a vaccination hub. I have loved the experience. As we wind down now, knowing it was always temporary, I feel very much like I belong there, like I am a part of the team.
It’s not a creative space. It doesn’t require vulnerability, a vocal warm up, or deep diving into scripts (although improvisation and the ability to think on my feet has come in useful on more than one occasion!). But I feel a sense of purpose, of being useful, and of working hard on something towards the greater good.
And that’s why I tell stories. Because I really believe they help. They connect us. They help us find where we belong.
07/01/2022
Happy New Year from Althea
Theatre!
If you are a regular reader of
this blog, you will have seen that our 2021 ended with Althea coming together
again to begin work on our next project. We are hopeful that 2022 will be a
year in which we can build on this work as we move closer to having something
to share with you in person! Until then, we’ll be keeping you up to date with
everything that’s going on right here with our weekly blog posts.
We wish you a happy and healthy
2022.
Althea
31/12/2021 - Lilac{R&D Days}
Day Eight
Dear New Old Friend,
You got to have a little
glimpse into our research and development process. Hope you enjoyed being a fly
on our wall. It is so funny to think that this process took place over 2 months
ago. I do miss being in that room with those glorious people. Devising has
always been and still is soul nourishing, a way to fill the well (and feel
what’s in the well).
And how much have we needed
to fill the well during the pandemic? I’ve been thinking a lot about
opportunities. How we long for them and work profoundly hard for them. I’ve
been thinking about how ultimately so many members of our community decide to
leave the sector (though they’ll always be a part of our community really)
because they don’t feel they receive the opportunities they deserve, the
opportunities they long for.
Day 8 was ultimately a
combination between keeping that soul nourishing process together with
capturing enough in order to allow for a future life and opportunities. This
meant capturing the work in photos and videos – which, as some of you might be
aware – is a very time consuming process! The day flies by and plans itself.
The exploration pauses and the development work comes to a still. For now. Paul
Gardner said that “A painting is never finished – it simply stops in
interesting places” and I feel that is relevant to theatre too, especially in
R&D. The work is never finished, it simply stops at an interesting place.
I am still amazed by the
commitment and vulnerability of the artists who shared that space.
After spending the morning
putting final touches and taking rehearsal photos we continued to film in the
afternoon. Do you get that jittery feeling while filming that there’s more to
do? That if you could have one more hour, one more day, one more week – you’d
have plenty to do with it. We always chase time, don’t we? It is possibly the
most precious currency we have (or don’t have).
After filming and before a
feedback session we had a bit of processing time. We opened a big table,
everyone sat around two boxes of beads and strings and made their own
necklaces, bracelets, key holders – you see where this is going. It has been
the advice of a very dear collaborator, Gurpreet Singh. I usually process by
talking, I express it verbally and I have really realised before the value of
processing through other practices. Watching everyone around the detail
reflecting, joking and creating these was probably one of my favourite moments
of the R&D.
Then we reflected in
conversation, and then we went to the pub. But the work isn’t finished, there
is still much more to do.
I long for that space still
and miss having everyone in the same room.
Earlier today I read Vinay
Patel’s New Year blog which I thoroughly recommend (https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/bushgreen/vinay-patels-new-year-taking-stock-hope-injection/).
His honesty about his experience of writing in connection to grief made me
think about how as theatre makers we tell stories despite our inner worlds
collapsing. Sometimes, bereavement shapes so much of our life and integrating
that loss is an impossible task. But we still find a way do it.
After losing my dad in 2018,
I wanted to become invisible. I didn’t see it then, I see it now. I wanted to
become transparent so that the rest of my life could go through me without
anyone noticing me. In an R&D in 2021, I still see myself processing that
loss. And ultimately that is a privilege. To be surrounded by artists and
engage in collaboration which allows us not only to develop a new piece of
theatre but to find a bit of healing through connection and storytelling.
Why do we tell these stories
day after day year after year? To me, there’s something very important in being
seen. Being acknowledged. But more than that, I think we tell stories so we can
continue the conversation about who we are.
I hope you are having a
wonderful festive season and I wish you a very happy New Year,
Speak soon,
Lilac x
24/12/2021 - Sam{R&D Days}
Day Seven
On the 7th day of rehearsals my director gave to me…
7 new ideas
6 necklace beads
5 pints with friends
4 dots were joined
3 personal stories
2 days so far
And a rehearsal room filled with hope
Well that was fun… if it were an instagram post it would probably be captioned “felt cute might delete later”. If you haven’t realised already I’m in a Christmassy mood (or trying to be) and this blog comes out on Christmas Eve. So to those of you who made it through my 12 days of Christmas rendition - Happy Christmas!
To those of you who just want to know what happened on day 7, thank you for your patience. Day 7 was the day when we set out to create two new scenes of ensemble storytelling based on stories that had cropped up earlier on in the R&D. We had quickly discovered from the beginning of the rehearsal process that as a group we revelled in physical theatrical work, but day 7 also highlighted the care required in such work, because without the context that a visual or aural language can provide, physical movements can carry wildly differing and unintended meanings.
But as with most creative processes the difficulties are the grits that polish the stone, forcing us to stretch outside of our habitual and instinctive ideas and enabling us to discover a way of bringing to life a story which was unique to that moment. And if new life and hope out of adversity isn’t a Christmas message, then I don’t know what is!
Sam
17/12/2021 - Isabel{R&D Days}
Day Six
Day six isn’t just a whole new day – it’s a whole new week.
We’ve got just three days left in a rehearsal room together before filming
excerpts of things we’ve created on Wednesday afternoon. It’s gone so fast, but
at the same time last Monday feels a world away. How have we crammed so much into
our time together?
I’d love to say it’s been a restful weekend, but I’m in the
middle of moving out of my current house (as
I write this blog, I’ve just picked up the keys to my new place after a couple
of months of sofa surfing!), and going straight into five days of R&D
after a long hiatus of in-person work means I’m buzzing and busy for most of
the two days of downtime. Unlike most of the Althea team I had to miss Friday’s
day in the room, due to starting a new job, so I’ve also spent some time
catching up with the material I’ve missed.
When I explain the role of a dramaturg to an outsider, the
image that comes to mind is someone sorting through a huge box of different
items. The pieces are there, and there are lots of them, but your job is to
help sift through the box – pairing things up, putting things together or in an
order, all the while remembering that each item has its own special meaning to
someone in the room with you. Stories, like objects, need to be handled with
care. When you’re doing your job properly, you’re helping fit things together
in a way that brings meaning to artists and audiences; if you do it badly, you
risk not only clouding the project, but causing real hurt to those who’s
stories you’ve been given permission to hold. No pressure, but it feels big,
especially in a room with so much potential.
Day Six therefore really starts for me on Friday night,
sitting on my friends’ fire escape on the phone to Lilac, as both of us talk
through the week we’ve had.
We talk through the stories we’ve heard, and the work done
in the room, and where connections are starting to form. We talk for an hour,
and it’s a really good chat – we’ll end up bookending day six with another chat,
just us together in the pub, for a similar amount of time after we wrap up. On
Monday Lilac brings something into the room – a piece of text. We pass it
around, and read it out.
A necklace made of
beads
And each is bead is a
story
You add more and more
and more and
The necklace gets
heavier
But whose is the neck
that carries it?
I love working with text. Holding something in my hands
that’s been written feels special and exciting. We read it through a few times,
and then we begin to do what we’ve done for the last few days – experiment, and
play.
And that reminds me of why
I love working with text, because it becomes something so much more than words
on a page.
We try splitting lines up – different members of the group
taking different words, organically, and then planned. We try using different
languages – English, BSL, French, Portuguese, Arabic, Spanish, Auslan. We move in
the space, matching the words to patterns in our bodies. As we work as an
ensemble, three pages of beautiful writing become something else entirely. It’s
magic.
The necklace in the text is the spine to a story we’ve begun
to tell. As we pass it back and forth, what we’re doing becomes solidified
before my eyes.
10/12/2021 - Cole{R&D Days}
Day Five
Day five of the R&D and the
end of the first week! How far we’ve come as a group of people thrown together
into a single space to tackle the behemoth theme of forgiveness.
We had the honour of being
introduced to Shveta, a representative of the Bertha Foundation, who took us
through the fantastic work the foundation carries out working towards social justice,
combining activism, impact through various media channels and through the
justice system with their justice initiative.
Of course, the idea of
forgiveness married well here. Some of the content produced to expose certain
stories and the activism and judicial campaigns driven from the foundation
carry with them such emotional weight, on a deeply personal and community wide
level. So many different stories of forgiveness drawn together by a single
foundation striving for change.
After a very reflective morning,
we moved back into the space to explore movement with the added layer of live
music; song, brass and piano. Althea has always had an element of live music in
their work and we wanted to explore how this would compliment and expand how we
move together as an ensemble in the space. This was particularly interesting
taking into account the deaf performers in the space and how the vibrations of
the instruments and the influence the sound has on the other members of the
ensemble drives the cohesive and at times disjointed movement. It was
interesting for the performers not to shy away from these disjointed moments,
but rather to accept, lean into them and explore what might come out of them.
After a long week, it was time
for the ensemble to shake off the subjects delved into in the rehearsal room
and sit down together at THE PUB! We always seem to flock towards the public
house after a long rehearsal day, or even a performance. It’s the place where
we can discuss and learn more about each other outside of a professional space,
throw off the guise of the performer and enjoy a conversation about our
favourite television show or what we’re planning to do at the weekend or
stories from our past, rather than trying to fix the state of the world, we can
just simply have a drink and be. Super important for any process, especially
with people you’ve only known for a matter of days.
Cole
We had the honour of being introduced to Shveta, a representative of the Bertha Foundation, who took us through the fantastic work the foundation carries out working towards social justice, combining activism, impact through various media channels and through the justice system with their justice initiative.
Of course, the idea of forgiveness married well here. Some of the content produced to expose certain stories and the activism and judicial campaigns driven from the foundation carry with them such emotional weight, on a deeply personal and community wide level. So many different stories of forgiveness drawn together by a single foundation striving for change.
After a very reflective morning, we moved back into the space to explore movement with the added layer of live music; song, brass and piano. Althea has always had an element of live music in their work and we wanted to explore how this would compliment and expand how we move together as an ensemble in the space. This was particularly interesting taking into account the deaf performers in the space and how the vibrations of the instruments and the influence the sound has on the other members of the ensemble drives the cohesive and at times disjointed movement. It was interesting for the performers not to shy away from these disjointed moments, but rather to accept, lean into them and explore what might come out of them.
After a long week, it was time for the ensemble to shake off the subjects delved into in the rehearsal room and sit down together at THE PUB! We always seem to flock towards the public house after a long rehearsal day, or even a performance. It’s the place where we can discuss and learn more about each other outside of a professional space, throw off the guise of the performer and enjoy a conversation about our favourite television show or what we’re planning to do at the weekend or stories from our past, rather than trying to fix the state of the world, we can just simply have a drink and be. Super important for any process, especially with people you’ve only known for a matter of days.
03/12/2021 - Carolina{R&D Days}
Day Four
As Josie explained in her previous blog, by
day 4 of the R&D we were already an Ensemble. We had developed our own
physical language as an ensemble, and this was put into practice by ‘gridding’
and ‘flocking’ through the space. We were communicating nonverbally in a
playful and flowy manner, discovering and creating relationships and images.
We also had so many diverse stories that
needed to be told, and even though they all had the common theme of Forgiveness
(which we discovered is a wide and extensive theme that encompasses a lot!)
we needed a more specific thread to weave them all together. Lilac our director
found that thread: our individual relationship with the English language.
On a personal level, I have to confess I
experienced a bit of panic when we decided to use English as the common
denominator. Because how is my connection to English relevant to all the true
stories I wanted, I needed to tell, stories related to the conflict in my home
country Colombia? How can that be connected to the peace treaty signed by the
government and the FARC guerrillas and forgiveness? Lilac, as always, was able
to appease my heart and pointed out that I was the connection. I’m the
connection because I speak English and I live in the U.K., I’m the one who can
tell those stories. And It feels like a big responsibility because I want to do
them justice. As part of my research previous
to the R&D, I must have read more than 100 accounts and stories of people
involved in the Colombian conflict from different sides (victims,
ex-guerrillas, ex-paramilitaries, militaries). And let me tell you, those are
stories that need to be told, stories that need to reach a U.K. audience,
without the usual stereotypical depiction of Colombians or glamorization of
drug lord assassins.
By the end of the day, we left excited and
ready to develop the rest of the stories.
The common core that we agreed on (relationship with English) gave us
clarity and a better sense of where we were heading as a collective. The honest
and truthful conversations we had, enable us to plan as an ensemble and contain
each other.
Carolina
Day Three
‘Trust the process’ is a bit of a mantra for me. I’m not patient, and I am usually focussed on some kind of forward progress.
If that’s true, why do I love R&D, when the whole point is exploration and discovery, over creation of content? Because I love play. I really do. And it’s been a really long time since I had new playmates. Even longer since I’ve had a creative playdate in person. So long, in fact, that it wasn’t until the third day of our R&D that I remembered quite how to play.
I think it’s easy to want to focus on the outcome of an R&D, and with that comes a pressure to have ‘made something.’ Enter the timely reminder; trust the process.
Without the play, without the strengthening of individual and group connections, without the shared moments and the unexpected laughs, there wouldn’t be anything at all.
As Tom mentioned previously, we’d already started to discover a shared language, a physical way of connecting and communicating, so it was a bit of a change of direction when moving into day 3 of the R&D the focus shifted onto more conventional storytelling.
We each took some time to develop a single story that linked to one or more of the themes of forgiveness, accountability or culture; the brief was simply that. We worked within a pair to provide each other with an audience to practice on, and to provide some feedback.
The power in the bravery and openness shared that day made me feel really, really lucky to be in that room, with those people, sharing those stories. It was really one of those days when ‘you had to be there.’
The biggest takeaway from that day was just how brave everyone was in sharing. I was reminded again and again that the skills we have are precious and important; to commit to simplicity is to allow yourself to be seen. And that takes courage.
We ended the day with a frank and open conversation about giving each other the space to be heard in group work. We are a collective of creatives with different perspectives, different lived experiences and different needs. It felt like an important day of sharing, of vulnerability, and ultimately of coming together.
We’d formed an ensemble.
Josie
Day Two
The second day is one of the best in my opinion. Live each
day as if it’s your last? Nah. Live each day as if it’s the second day of an
R&D with Althea Theatre.
*Spoiler Warning* some of the days later on in our R&D would
be where the real discoveries were made; where the journey we were taking began
to show itself. Those days, however, can be difficult, or uncomfortable, or frustrating,
and they definitely are tiring. Those are the days that you look forward to
with anticipation and aspiration, and look back on with pride, mixed with
(hopefully) a sense of achievement, and even a little relief. It would be too
much for a person to have those days every day and the returns would diminish.
But day 2? I’d happily live in day 2. Tiredness wasn’t an
issue for me on day 2. Having spent the previous six weeks waking up at 6am I
woke up with the sun and leisurely made my way to the theatre – having breakfast
en route – getting there a smug amount of time before the 10am call. These
might sound like things that were also true of day 1 and, to an extent, that’s
true but day one also had a nervousness that came from the combination of a new
project with new people mixed with the self-doubt that comes with so much time
away from this sort of thing. Another great thing about day 2 is that having
had a successful day one we could hit the ground running (which we did) and
there’s a possibility that the confidence, energy, and good-will gained on day
1 will carry through the whole day (it did).
The whole of the R&D lay ahead on day 2 and the potential
was palpable. There were ideas and stories that carried through from that Tuesday
all the way through to our R&D’s end but there was no self-imposed pressure
for that to be the case.
Was day 3 even better? You’ll have to wait until next week
to find out.
Tom
Day One
People in a room. That’s it. People sharing an empty space.
It’s fucking magic.
Forgive me - years ago I’d have taken it for granted. After
all, training was a constant diet of rehearsing, devising, discovering,
creating … big bootying - but the industry is a brutal beast, opportunities
thin out quick (especially if you chuck a global pandemic into the mix) and
suddenly the simple act of sharing a space with others becomes undeniably
precious.
So here we all are, in a room, ready to make some shit. That
alone, is the best way to start any day.
But first - new faces, new friends. We all cycle round and
introduce ourselves. It’s a big old group. Our first port of call is the Deaf
Awareness Training Session run by Deepa Shastri - she’s amazing. We’re joined
by 3 BSL translators since several members of the group are deaf. Deepa’s session
proves invaluable to those in the company (like myself) who have little to no
experience working with deaf practitioners. The training is incredibly robust
for the short morning available but it’s clear we’re barely scratching the
surface. In the middle of her training Deepa invites us to try communicating
without voice, using only lip-reading - it ain’t easy. As the session concludes
we’re left enthused and theatrically inspired to find fresh inventive ways to
fully integrate BSL into performance, rather than side-lining it to translation
only, which it often is.
Next up we’re split into groups to begin looking at the
themes we wish to explore. We’re given the words Forgiveness, Culture and
Language and asked to write what comes to mind. It’s not long before we all
take the red pill and develop a pyramid construct of atonement from deities to
descendants. It’s the first day, we’re all pretty keen.
Look, I’m sure we did some other stuff, games and that, my
memory is a little hazy, but I definitely recall how we ended the day - an
exercise called “And The Story Goes”
We create a short story, one line each, each line with an
accompanying motion, then linking each motion together to create a group
movement piece. It’s much easier to witness rather than explain. Unsurprisingly
something rather beautiful begins to form. The beginnings of the psychical
language are taking shape. Then Lilac gets us to do the movement as if we’re
flirting with someone, the whole thing as if we’re flirting. It’s pretty
batshit. And that’s it Day 1 done. Incredibly grateful to be sharing a space.
“For it so falls out
That what we have we prize not to the worth
Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost,
Why, then we rack the value, then we find
The virtue that possession would not show us.
While it was ours”
That’s some Room 101 shit right there. Unironically quoting
Shakespeare in a blog.
But it’s genuinely my favourite line of his and it couldn’t
be more appropriate, so you’ll just have to deal with :)
Lots and lots of love
Tom
Dear reader:
You must be wondering why we have been so quiet in the past
couple of weeks and we haven’t shared any new blogs with you. Sorry if we left a bit of a gap, but we have
a great excuse. We’ve been busy working in a room together. Yes! Finally, all of Althea’s members plus some
amazing and talented new creatives together devising new work for our next
show. (20 people in total with all the Covid safety measures, including daily
lateral flow tests) What a new beginning!
As Lilac explained in the previous blog, we received an Arts
Council Grant which enabled us to start researching and developing material for
our next show. And let me tell you, throughout the 8 days of 8 hours of work
that we’ve shared, we made great discoveries and we have some interesting and
important stories to share in the future with our audience. We will unpack more
about the R&D in our next blogs.
What a new beginning! I couldn’t have asked for more! The
excitement of waking up on a Monday, the very next day after my birthday, and
going to a theatre to rehearse for the first time after Covid, in fact to the
same theatre (Cervantes Theatre) where I’ve performed in London for the last
time one month before everything got shut down and we went into lockdown,
surely felt like a new beginning.
A new year of life, new Althea project, new friends, new
discoveries. I can’t describe the joy! That is exactly why I fell in love with
theatre 27 years ago, for the magic and human connection that happens in a room
when talented, creative, and generous performers play and explore together.
New beginnings are always a bit scary because we are dealing
with “the unknown”, but they are also hopeful. Once you start something new,
once that little spark inside is ignited it gives you the energy to propel and
to start “the move”, and once that new project is in motion, somehow you get
the reassurance and the confidence that It Is Possible! And that confidence
helps you seek and explore new things, helps you create other new beginnings.
Thanks for reading,
Carolina
Hello friend,
I’m a bit late with this
blog, I know, I apologise. I’m not sure if you’ll want to read this one because
I’m quite tired and on a tube and my thoughts aren’t quite connecting into a
cohesive line of enquiry. But maybe that’s ok today. Maybe we’ll hop from one
place to the other today so bear with me. Go on, let your thoughts migrate with
mine.
I devised my first show 12
years ago. My devising practice has a bat mitzvah. And yet every time I walk
into a room to start a new project, I feel like I’ve never done it before. One
would say that I’m nervous because it’s important, but surely you’d think I’d
feel a bit more confidant by now? Where does that confidence come from? For me,
it always comes from the work, from being in the room and creating something. Is
it the same for you?
Althea has a new beginning
next week. We have received an Arts Council Grant to start a research and
development process for a new project and for the first time since One Last
Thing (For Now) we’ll get to work with a large ensemble. Thank you ACE! We will
get to walk into a room with 11 performers, some of them Althea core members
and some new ensemble members to come into Althea, and this collaboration is
profoundly exciting.
There’s a woman on the tube
across from me who is wearing what seems to be a scarf made of faux grass. You
know, like the ones you put in your garden? I kind of like the thought that
she’s carrying her backyard with her everywhere she goes. A human turtle. I
wish I could travel lighter, I’ve been carrying my laptop with me for months
but my laptop isn’t my home. Is there anything that I take with me every day
that reminds me of home?
I realise that a lot of the
Althea’s work has been rooted within my identity and our friendship with each
other. We all, in our different ways, want to speak of belonging. In our
company meeting yesterday, we talked about how over the years, we realised that
a home isn’t only a physical experience, we build our homes in people.
Over the years… I write as if
I actually have enough years in me to say things like over the years. But I do.
And there are some things that have happened that I forgot ever happened, which
is strange. Because it means I forget different moments that made me into who I
am, but I am still me, right?
There are things that I do
that are as essential to me as breathing. Making theatre is one of them. I know
that. And I know that every new beginning, in its way, is another step towards
an unknown, and that is quite an awesome thing. I hope to have many of them, to
always have the opportunity to start afresh, with the terrifying sensation and
the joyous reassurance, that something that hasn’t existed before is coming to
life.
Hope you enjoy your weekend
and look forward to sending you some updates from our R&D soon,
Lilac
New
beginnings - easy to talk about, hard to do. Or in my case, hard to write about
and hard to do! They give us a chance to start afresh and, as Izzi pointed out,
they can help us to reconsider change in a positive light. However, they also
confront us with how ingrained our old habits are. I’d told myself that
post-lockdown I would make sure that my work-life balance was healthier and
that I’d give myself time to rest, and yet, like Josie, I already find myself
swamped with work and close to burn-out; running in circles as I try to work
out where I’m headed. It turns out that my old habit of saying yes to every
single piece of work that floated past was much stronger than my desire for a
new beginning!
In part, I
suspect that this was a fear reaction - having gone for so long without
plentiful work opportunities, the sudden reemergence of new jobs (largely event
work) was a windfall that I seized with panicked enthusiasm. (You’re going to
have to pardon all the mixed metaphors!) But, if I'm not careful, I'm at risk
of unconsciously falling back into the old patterns that I’d wanted to change.
New
beginnings suggest one is starting with a clean slate; resetting everything to
zero. But we can't fully reset ourselves. In order to take full advantage of a
moment of change we need to be aware of how we got there in the first place
because it will shape how we respond in the new circumstances. If we don’t have
this self-awareness we can start again but then continue to act in exactly the
same way as before and so end up with the same problems all over again. In my
case, it's probably worth reflecting on how I view work and rest and why I feel
compelled to book work in every available time slot, regardless of my need for
“unimportant” things such as time to eat and sleep. Perhaps once I’ve done that
I can take advantage of these new beginnings to build a work-life balance that
keeps me solvent but also allows me to rest.
Wish me
luck! I will be hoping for the same for you too!
Sam
Insomnia
Sleep
now, or simply accept it
Sleep
now, or tomorrow regret it
This
choleric skeleton with surplus adrenaline
Will
thirst for your life if you let it
Here
often? Concede to the ritual
A
process to attempt, to observe
Fail
tossing and turning, while desperately yearning
For
a life you perhaps don’t deserve
Fuck’s
sake, you’re awake, you hear birdsong
Now’s
your chance to progress, time to strike.
Too late.
Well.
Just do your best, but lack any zest
For
the job you might need but don’t like
Don’t
deny it, you ache with resentment
What’s
caffeine when envy takes hold
It’s
not shameful, but stupid, to think some career-cupid
Will
dream-job you back into the fold
Who
are you to expect an adventure?
Who
are you, because - no one knows.
The
building and building, some name that you’re gilding
Mate,
this is the life that you chose.
The
grog of the morning is rotten
Its
sheen unwelcomingly bright
Drink
deep and unwind, you’re not ruled by your mind
I
promise you’ll sleep tonight
I am a person that moves through the world at a particular speed. Generally, my go-to motion is forward, no matter what. If you know me in person, you’ll know what I mean. Relentless, or restless? Perhaps a bit of both.
“But Josie, what are you running away from?”
To be perfectly honest, slowing down scares me. The trouble is, I’m tired. I have been ‘busy’ for a really long time. It’s a ‘busy’ of my own creation. I chose to get busy, but I’ve been using it as a distraction, because while I’m ‘needed’ elsewhere, I don’t have time to slow down and check in with myself. As a result of that, I’m struggling to identify which of the many voices asking something of me is mine.
I’m at a bit of a crossroads right now, and I feel quite stuck. It goes against every instinct in me to sit here and wait for the answer on which direction is next to arrive from within me. But I’m going to try.
Who knows what’s next? Maybe nothing obvious or external will change, but it feels like it might, like I’m on the cusp of something, and September always feels like much more of a fresh start for me that January ever does.
Here’s to the next thing.
Josie
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