The Never-ending Audition

Which is something more usually heard from my Mythmakers co-star Jonathan Hansler, who has an entertaining sideline playing John Cleese at corporate dos, and who also wrote a stageplay about the afterlife of Pete ‘n’ Dud.
Anyhoo, enough of him.
The mythmakers was great. The first performance felt like the dress rehearsal as we’d had so little time, but we did it well. The first Act of the second show (Sun 25) felt like it rode me instead of me riding it, but it did take us to our destination (we nailed the second act) and the third performance flew. Now we know what we’re doing.
But it’s over.
Or is it. Surely there was someone amongst the audience - we played to around 400 - who can take this on? It’s perfect for Edinburgh - it’s a two-hander with minimal props and set (if you want it that way), we can go anywhere.
Willing to travel …

So far, so good. By writing those four words, I am achieving my aim of blogging once a month in 2012.
So goodnight.
Or not.
Ok, so when I was told, last October, (having been sent a cutting from the local Aberdeen paper, the P&J by my mum in January 2011) that I had a role in the upcoming film, Between Weathers, my aim was simple. To stay alive intil February, when filming starts (was due to start). Like all films, everything changes, all the time, but that’s cool. In the meantime, I live.
I got a job as duty manager at the newly refurbished Old Fire Station. Great to be involved in the best 150 seat theatre in central Oxford. Lots of possibilities. And a great new team, Arts at the OFS. I’m also working behind the bar of the Old Bookbinders in Jericho. It’s lime being in Brigadoon, or Brigadoom if I’d left that typo. Every time I go there, it’s moved. It’s at the end of a different street. Confuses the hell out of me, but again, Josh and Michel are great to work with and I love being part of the team.
Also, while waiting for filming to start, I was able to fit in the GP roleplays which have been a big part of my year for the last five years or so. I wasn’t sure if they would overlap with rehearsals, but i got the go-ahead from director Jim Brown (b4 Films). I just spent three days working at Oxford United’s Kassam Stadium on those, yet again, with a brilliant team - I especially loved the wave of hilarity, or desperation, which swept over us at coffee break the first day.
And then, a couple of weeks ago I got a Twitter message from a friend, Scott Christie. He couldn’t do a play, and thought I’d be great for it. Which is why I’m playing JM Barrie in The Mythmakers, the unexpected friendship of JM Barrie and Scott of the Antarctic at The Charing Cross Theatre, The Arches, Villiers Street, London WC2N 6NL on Sunday March 18 (7.30pm) and Sunday March 25 (3pm and 7.30pm). Tickets 020 7907 7075.
I thought I probably couldn’t do it as it would overlap with the film, but after several email exchanges with Jim Brown, Who was in Washington, I got another green light. I play Barrie, and Jonathan Hansler is brilliant as Scott. I really like the acript and I think it’s going to be great. We are hoping for a further London run later this year, and possibly a small Scottish tour next year - but the possibilities are there - who knows where it could take us.
So, I’m learning lines furiously. It’s a two hander, and is driven by Barrie. After that, at some point, there will be Between Weathers.
I can’t wait for March 18.
See you there

Well hello there. It would appear, by all accounts, that 2012 has arrived. It’s going to be spectacular!

No resolutions, but I am going to enjoy it, and I AM going to get back into this blogging thing.

Lots coming up, just waiting for a contract, lots planned, lots of possibilities.

And that’s the way it should be.

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Contact Doug Stiven at
Stiven Christie Management
0131 228 4040

Wow. Where did the last three months go? Last thing I remember is writing about filming the Art Pepper Straight Life piece. Then it’s now.
I suppose there were the two plays (Never Tell Them and Fun Run), the feature film (The Oracle), the medical roleplays (for wannabe doctors), London Poetry Systems at the Jam Factory, the short film (last minute, can’t for the life of me remember the name - but it was good) and the voiceover stuff. And going to see mates like Scott Christie do his stuff, and Huck, Tamara and the Handsome Fee, the Long Insiders, George’s Jamboree, Cabaret Clandestino, The James Street Tavern Open night, and The Firry Mic. Missed the new one, Port Mahon’s Foghorn last night cos I was in Exeter seeing Shaun McCarthy’s Beanfield, directed by David Lockwood at the Bike Shed Theatre. But that’s another story.
I also managed to see the National Theatre of Scotland’s Peter Pan at the Barbican. Wow! The production was amazing. The technical stuff awesome, and the acting, although it played second fiddle to the production as a whole, was all round good, with Hook outstanding.
And I went mountain biking and Go Ape-ing in Wales - that was an experience. It’s a different world. A world class mountain biking centre in the middle of a forest, with about three hundred armour clad nutters belting through river beds, up boulders, down crevices (ooh err).
All good stuff.
I’m back

On Saturday, I’m filming a four minute section from Straight Life by Art Pepper. Eight years ago, I was asked to read it at a cabaret night hosted by Alan Fraser, a jazz saxophonist from Charlbury.

Art Pepper (1925-1982) was one of the greatest ever alto sax players. He was a man with genius accompanied by human flaws. He lived a life. It involved, jail, heroin, drink and three wives.

The bit I read, the speech Alan gave me, is about performing. About how, whatever shit is going on in your life, however bad your life is, whatever is dragging you down, you leave it all behind and go up there and DO IT.

I love it. I’ve done it as an audition piece for many years. For many years I did it without success, although people generally did like the piece. More recently, I have performed it as an audition speech with varying degrees of success, and also as a performance piece at various spoken word evenings run by friends.

I’ve been waiting for the time to be right to film it to use as a showreel piece. Shamus Maxwell, a film director friend is the man for the job. I’ve got the location, The Fir Tree on the Iffley Road. It should be shadowy and flickery, with wood panels, signs for tobacco and alcohol from the 1950s. That’s the Fir.

I thought I should ask permission, so I tracked down Laurie Pepper, Art’s third wife. Fifteen minutes after I sent my email, she replied, saying ‘Hell, yeah’ She said that she was making a film of Art’s life at the moment. A major studio was involved, and Johnny Depp was being lined up to play Art, but then the studio started playing with the script, and they weren’t interested in her input. Laurie said, It’s Art’s story, it’s her story, and she pulled out and is now filming it herself, putting chapters up on YouTube as she goes.

Because Art’s life was a drug and alcohol-fuelled trip, and at times very surreal, she said she might weave my piece into the film if it works, or at least link my film to hers on her website. If it’s ok with me. I got straight back to her and said… ‘Hell, yeah!’
Art Pepper gets it right

The art of theatre is alive and well in Oxford, in the safe hands of three of the best bands to be found within the city walls. Some evil genius put them together on the same bill on Saturday night at the Wheatsheaf in a dastardly bid to RULE THE WORLD!

There were four acts on the bill. Undersmile, all fishnet and scarlet (well the two singers anyway), opened proceedings. They were good at what they did. I didn’t particularly like what they did, which seemed to be play the same song three times with slightly different lyrics. I could be wrong. I have been in the past as two ex-wives will testify. But Undersmile can play and sing, and that might just be enough.

Huck and the Handsome Few were on good form. Quite where that voice comes from in Huck’s slight body is a mystery of physics, or perhaps biology (one of the sciences anyway), but I love his driving, passionate version of Stagger Lee’s, Stagolee tale. Mississippi John Hurt was first to record his version in 1923, and among those subsequently covering the story are Woody Guthrie and Will Greer, and The Clash. Huck’s version is better. And he squeezes out one hell of a Passion Man. Joined by the gorgeous Tamara Parsons-Baker for part of the set, their searing, agonised vocals worked beautifully together on The Fall and Jason, a particular favourite. It’s dedicated to all the gay cowboys out there, and I always wanted to be a cowboy. They speak of pain with authenticity. They got up and lived their lives the hard way.

The Long Insiders blew the place away. Their filmy, dramatic, theatrical songs really rocked the Wheatsheaf, and had the audience on its feet, and at their feet, the coquettish, and very lovely Sarah Dodd strutting around the stage on killer heels, all nervous energy, belting out tales from the dark side. As always the dynamic between singers Dodd and Nick Kenny was beguilling and intriguing, as the pair act out their 1950’s leading man, glamorous 50s actress fantasies, obviously loving every second, as did the audience. Imagine how the Shadows might have looked and sounded had they ditched Cliff for Audrey Hepburn and descended into a wild world of glamour and decadence. The new songs, Nervous, One in the Eye and Temptation fit perfectly into their spaghetti western/rockabilly/surf rock vibe. Visually, and musically, The Long Insiders are a class act.

As the last rounds of applause for the Long Insiders echoed through the Wheatsheaf, I wondered how Mephisto Grande would top that. But they managed. Beautifully. It was hard to know what to make of them at first, but that was probably because I was scared. Partly because Liam Ings-Reeves has a voice that makes Tom Waits sound like Tom Waits, and partly because he wore a brown kipper tie. And you know what they say about men who wear brown kipper ties. He also seemed to be wearing the jacket for my trousers, which I would never wear a brown tie with anyway. I’ve been searching for that jacket for a while now, but I certainly wasn’t going to ask him for it. He also seemed to be staring at me, but that could be one of those painting in a museum things - “his eyes are following me!” The safety of distance gives me the courage to say they were fantastic. There was gospel in there, a bit of blues - an accordian even, and something vaguely like death metal - although there was nothing vague about this band. And Jonny Mitchell! He had eaten his own fucking cymbals. He is a demon drummer.

The whole evening was pervaded by a strong sense of drama, and an almost unbearble sexiness. Whoever put together this line up deserves a pat on the back and probably a pint. But hey, it’s someone else’s round. Huck and his Handsome Few (including Tamara, although there are better adjectives than handsome), The Long Insiders and Mephisto Grande are on the rise. This is their year. I’m telling you.

I went to see One Small Step at the Burton Taylor tonight. I loved it. It was brilliant - two great, lovely performances, of a warm, life-affirming play that reminds of the beauty that mankind is capable of.

It was sold out, but due to the six inches of snow covering Oxford, there were quite a few returns, and in the end the audience was quite small for the 5pm show - there’s also an 8pm one, both preview shows for the world tour which takes in Australia (they’ll love it there) and Dubai. But the people who did battle through the snow were the lucky ones.

Somehow, I’ve managed to miss this show every time it’s been on for the last two and a half years. I know the writer, and really wanted to see the original production (it’s an Oxford Playhouse show), but somehow it never happened. I missed it in Edinburgh too, and then again when it returned to the BT and then went on a UK tour. When I saw these two preview shows, I thought I’d make it at last…then it sold out!

It’s about the Apollo space missions and the race to be the first nation to put a man on the moon. I loved the fact that as the vessel orbited earth and was over Australia, the people on the earth below all put their lights on and were visible from the dizzy heights of space. I don’t know if that’s a true event, but I really hope so.

The two actors were childishly joyful - I don’t know who the actors were, and I don’t know who their characters were or where the play was set, but they conveyed the innocence of a different age (it might have been set today?) beautifully.

A bit different from Kim Noble Will Die, which I saw the Soho on Monday night. Now that was an interesting night. Nothing innocent about it. A blurring of the distinction between life and art and a couple of uncomfortable hours of self-harm and wanking (Kim Noble, not me).

It puts the audience in a weird position, cos you’re laughing at stuff that is horribly real, and probably actually real. Conversations as a relationship broke up, conversations as an ex-girlfriend came back fro the hospital following a miscarriage. Kim Noble is an award-winning comedian who had his own (with his double act partner) show on C4 then had a massive breakdown. He took his anti-depressants during the show - good way to remember them every day! He lays out his mental slide on stage.

A lot of it was definitely real. But at one point he gave out a fiver and a couple of quid to audience members. Then he asked a few people in the rows in front of me for a fiver or tenner or twenty pound note. No-one moved then some poor fool (ok, it was me) twitched and he said ‘You Sir’. Like a cornered animal I … err meekly handed over £20 (it was everything I had) and he promptly shredded it.

Now, there’s no way I can afford to lose £20 like that, but even though the show was unsettling and disturbing, at no point did I fear that I wouldn’t be able to get my money back. So where’s the reality there then? I waited until the end (which was spectacular and strangely beautiful) then asked the front of house staff how I got my money back. They of course went off to reimburse me. He should probably have challenged me during the show to provoke a reaction. That would have been unpredictable.

There were a lot of projections and films clips in the show - one was onto a tiny marionette of dolls body and it was Kim Noble’s head. It looked bizarrely real. Very freaky and really well done. He got one audience member to stand up straight at the side of the stage from the start with a bucket over his head onto which was projected at various times Kim Noble and Kim Noble’s mother. So at certain points he was talking to himself and answering himself. He did the same on his films. Another audience member sat with a bucket on her head with another Kim Noble projected onto that.

Oh and he gave out sample jars of his spunk to female members of the audience. These were also shown in the film on sale in Morrison’s for 89p (probably a bargain if you collect that sort of stuff).

His version of a charity bean bath saw him sitting in a bath with one tin of beans over his bollocks. Then he tried custard with a mint leaf for garnish.

One filmed segment involved plasticine models of him and an ex-girlfriend. That was kind of moving, until his model was given a machine gun and blew his own head off.

Paul McKenna is very smug. We all know that. So I can understand him being the target for one of Noble’s stunts. But Des Lynam? He’s just a bit too smooth for his own good. I hope it’s a very long time before I see a copy of his auobiography used in that way.

And Floella Benjamin, ex of Playschool. What’s she ever done to anyone? Except beat Noble by 33 minutes in the London marathon a few years back. And we’ll just have to agree to disagree over Bono.

Going back to Charlbury was fun. I really enjoyed Alan Fraser’s night, Upstairs at the Cornerhouse. I read some poetry, and also a piece from Straight Life, Art Pepper’s biography about what it is to perform. Alan gave that to me about 10 years ago, and I love doing it, I use it as an audition speech. I also did a piece from Philadelphia here I come by Brian Friel, which is possibly the first audition piece I ever did (apart from Hamlet and a piece from Glass Menagerie by Tennesse Wiliams to get into drama school). It’s about a boy and his father fishing in a blue boat on an afternoon in May. I’m hoping to get Shamus to film both those pieces and I’ll get them up on the site - early 2010!

It’s good to remember reasons why it’s good to be in Charlbury. I have two - my boys - and plenty of reasons not to enjoy being back where I spent 10 years of my life (wow). But the audience at Alan’s night was great, and a lot of friends were there. I left Charlbury on Halloween 2006 and felt that I hadn’t made any kind of mark there and had no friends. I was very wrong.

After Alan’s night I rushed back to Oxford to Tom’s birthday party. Tom is a fellow Tough Guy (TM) - GRRRRR! Not going to let Kersti talk me into that again, no sirreee, it’s a year of pampering for me. I can hear Kersti’s sniggering already. At least she didn’t try to get me to do her poleathon with her. Mind you … The bit in the Oxford Mail said ’single men won’t be admitted unless they know someone doing the poleathon’ ha ha ha ha.

I thought that in terms of work, Alan’s night was probably about the last thing I would do this year, but boy was I wrong (again). As I said in a previous post, the period between Halloween and Christmas is always weird now. So it’s been great this year to be so busy.

I’ve had programming meetings for Oxfringe 2010 and I did my spoken word night, Jam on That? at the Jam Factory. There were a few new audience members which is always good, and some interesting readings. But after I took a summer break, it was difficult to get it back up and running cos I was working on Pork and cancelled September, then had the Guilty Parties read through and Collider so cancelled October and November. I might make it a quarterly thing in 2010. First one is on Monday February 1. After Jam on That? I ended up back at Vix’s house in an afro-celtic-trans-trance-flamenco drumming session. I didn’t know Vix that well, but turns out she used to go out wi’ Arty Reid, ye ken, Arty Reid fae school. She went out with someone from my school! That’s nuts. And her lovely mate Jules was down from there, though she lives in Edinburgh now. I got home at five in the morning, turned round and went to work. The week never really recovered.

I was supposed to be having a drink with Tim Pont on November 25 but he had to cancel because of a corporate job in London. Then he phoned back and asked if I wanted to do it. I ended up at the Wellcome Foundation HQ on Euston Street dressed as a silhouette - head to foot in black, with a black surgeon’s mask and cap and an apron. It was for their Identity Project launch, and I gave out tags with snippets about ‘my’ identity. I gave one to Tony Benn, Fiona Shaw and Britain’s first sex change who went from George Jamieson to April Ashley. And I sat in the Big Brother diary room chair. And we weren’t allowed to speak! Some people looked freaked, some just took the tag politely, and some smartarses tried to guess who we were supposed to be. Thing is, we were all just generic. I was ‘the surgeon’ and we had a priest, a soldier, a dancer and a hoody. These two kept on trying to guess who I was an I went along with them when they named some famous 19th century German surgeon, and agreed (by nodding) when they pinpointed the dancer as Madonna, the soldier as Steven Fry and the hoody as Eminem. It’s a celeb driven world. My original brief was a surgeon who fondled, err examined, women’s breasts (I had the choice of that or the priest, no brainer really). But some bastard stole my stethoscope. Now if I’d had the tools of the trade I’d have got away with it, but without that… I’d've been arrested as a black-clad ninja groping the guests!

Then I met up with Rachel in Reading. Always a life-saving experience.

On 29th I went to see Malcolm Middleton at the Jericho Tavern. That was brilliant. I love Malcolm Middleton, especially Into the Woods and Sleight of Heart. There was this drunk guy who was all over the place. Of course he chose to talk to me and Richard Tilley. He liked me right away cos I’m Scottish (you did know that didn’t you?) - in fact he put me on the phone to his girlfriend so she could hear my voice - and he thought Richard was intelligent cos he was wearing glasses. An areshole, but an intelligent one (Richard, not the guy). We were humouring him, but making frantic eyebrow signals to the bar staff to remove the lunatic, when out of the blue Richard says, “You’re not a pilot are you?” He says, “ash it hapennsh I am” and got out his helicopter pilot business card (next to his brain surgeon and rocket scientist ones). This all seemed very familiar and I suddenly realised that I’d experienced him before in Charlbury when he was similarly drunk. God help all who fly with him. Botched military coups - he’s yer man. At one point, Curly Hair, the support, who were lovely airy fairy folky hippy types, came off stage and into the audience. He had his back to them as the slight, studenty looking singer who had slapped down hair, glasses (intelligent) and a goatee and was wearing no shoes, stood on a chair just behind him. He (folky guy, not helicopter guy) was playing a glockenspiel. I had a brilliant vision of the guy getting annoyed by the ‘noise’, turning round and lamping the singer. That would have been a ‘Hot-Fuzz‘ moment.

I went to Free E-day at Cafe Tarifa, which was not at all what I thought it was going to be. It was a collection of artistes, singing and speaking. Very good though. OUP’s Christmas Show Down on Walton Street, was brilliant. Even the private jokes looked funny. Great and lovely director and musical director!

Huck shares my Charlbury experience. He’s fantastic, I love his voice, and I really wanted Dylan and Aidan to hear him - and Tamara Parsons Baker and Henry Stead. So I was talking to them at Huck’s gig at the Cape of Good Hope trying to find out if any of their gigs would be on early enough for the boys in a reasonably family-friendly pub. Tamara suggested we do a Christmas gig at a time kids could come to. So, A Christmas Cracker was born. We roped in George Chopping as compere, and Abelardo and his mate Richard on flamenco duty. We got publicity in the Oxford Mail, which - as always - didn’t turn out as it should have. Every time I’ve acted as ‘press officer’ and given them a story, from back in the day as The Shed Theatre press officer to this one, they always get something wrong that makes an arse of me! This time, they missed out Henry’s name and cut Huck’s quote out. But the gig was good - if odd. Maybe we’re all a bit dark, maybe we’re all nightpeople, but the early time didn’t quite work somehow. Everyone was their usual great selves, and my boys loved it, so that’s it. Huck is playing with another of my favourite bands, The Long Insiders at the Wheatsheaf in Oxford on January 16.

The guys from Birdwatch, past and present, met up for drinks in Soho, which was a night not to be missed. So I didn’t. Friday December 11 was the Newsquest Editorial Christmas Night Out - organised by … me. I wasn’t going to do it this year, cos last year everyone was so bloody miserable and when you ask them if they want to go they look at you like you’re got two heads. But Richard Tilley persuaded me (because it meant that he didn’t have to do it) by saying he would help. It was, of course, in the Jam, and they looked after us as only they can. Everyone was delighted and said how much they’d enjoyed it - but, just like last year, only three people left a tip. In fact, last year, not a single person left a tip - and I got stung for it - £30.

I missed Echo & The Bunnymen at the Cardiac. Pity, I think I last saw them at Aberdeen Capitol in 1983! They were awesome then, maybe not so much now. But I had a script reading the same day, for a film that ‘might’ be part shot in the Philippinnes - part of the production budget is coming from there. It’s a Japanese-style atmospheric horror, ala The Grudge, The Ring etc. I liked the guy who wrote it and think he might do good things. His name was Brandon Francis.

George Chopping’s Jamboree at the Chester Arms is turning into one of the best monthly jam sessions I’ve seen. I did my Art Pepper and Brian Friel pieces again, and loved doing it. I’d been to the Jamboree the month before. It was the night after Andrew and Tom’s 3rd anniversary at the Jam Factory and Tom’s leaving do, which went on til 5, so I was knackered. And when George asked if I wanted to do anything, I said no. As soon as it started, and the acts were really good, I wanted to do something and be part of it. I asked George and of course, he’d filled all the slots. I got energy and insiration from the others, and it was a great night, but I would have loved to have performed. I learned something important that night. George is a c**t.

The Newsquest Armchair Movie club started up again. I went to the pre-film meal that relaunched it, but missed the film, and I missed the second one, but this one was Annie Hall and I made it. It was great. After work, a film chosen by one of the guys, who explains why they chose it, then you sit back with wine and crisps. Wicked! Nice one Jeremy, Nige and Heath.

On Thursday I made it to Judgement at the BT. I wanted to go but didn’t think I would have time cos I had to go to Hester’s divorce party! But I went to Judgment - it’s a one-man show about a group of six Russian soldiers who were abandoned in a monastery by the retreating Nazis, and when the Russian army liberated them 60 days later, there were two left. They had eaten each other. Alex Rogers was great, a really strong performance of a very difficult script - wave after wave of horror loses its impact after a while, but Alex kept our attention. And one member of the audience actually PUKED! I kid you not. Alex Rogers performance was so visceral, someone threw their guts up.

Last weekend, I took the boys to Where The Wild Things Are. I loved it. I cried (of course - Dyl must surely hate going to the pictures with me!). It was brilliant. Anarchic, loving, life-affirming but never ever cutesy and sugary. I loved it on so many levels.

That night I was in London for Signal Theatre’s A Night Before Christmas at The Hen and Chickens in Islington. This is the play I want to do in London next year, so I really wanted to see what they did with it. It was good. I enjoyed the performances, and it is a fantastic script. Gave me a lot to think about for next year. I ran out of money when I was in London! It’s been an expensive month, what with Christmas and socialising. But the great thing is that the last of my money went on Christmas breakfast for me and the boys last weekend, and the trip to the cinema. I’m strangely untroubled to have not a penny to my name, but then I do get paid on Christmas Eve. And I managed to borrow £20 when I bumped into a friend I hadn’t seen for a while. It was good to catch up.

A lack of money didn’t stop me and Nige (who was in a similar predicament) from blagging free tickets for the Ultimate Picture Palace screening of Nosferatu and A Trip to the Moon. They were brilliant. Nosferatu, by FW Murnau is great and I had never seen it on the big screen, but I had never ever seen A Trip to the Moon - I’d seen the image - you probably have - of the moon with the rocket in its eye, but never the film. It’s about 10 minutes long, and very very good - the aliens are fantastic. It was the first sci-fi and was made by George Melies in 1902.

Now, I’m sliding to Christmas (it’s very icy). I’m going to Kersti and Tom’s for their Waifs and Strays Christmas special (thanks guys). I don’t have the boys until 28, and it’s going to be really weird. But the boys are Ok, we’ll miss each other, but we’ll speak on Christmas Day and then we meet up and head to Scotland for a few days.

Have a great Christmas and a happy and successful 2010. X

Tomorrow I stop. Just for one day. Wouldn’t want any more, but 24 quiet hours…ooooh yes please …

… I read excerpts from Dracula to open Tricks and Treats, a great cabaret night, on Halloween, then rushed off to a friend’s wedding. The cabaret was magic and I wish I’d been able to stay, but you can’t miss a Halloween wedding. Actually, because he was getting married, I couldn’t hassle Nige to get his coffin for Dracula, as was my original plan, but it went well anyway. Aidy was there which always makes things good - Dyl had a sleepover. In fact we rushed to Vaults after Trick or Treating with Aidy’s mates.

I feel incredibly lucky that I can take both my boys to most of the things I do and they see what I do and they see me happy. It’s not always been that way.

I missed the second half of Tricks and Treats, which is a pity - Nikki Loy looked especially good.

That night led to an interesting few days. Aidy was sick in the middle of the night (I know, I know, it was probably because he was up late and eating late), so next day we took the sick-covered sheets to the laundry. We got back to the boat, I stepped onto the gangplank and knew a split second before it slipped off the boat that it was going to slip off the boat. Managed a ‘Noooooo’ before I was up to my eyes in swamp water. Two lovely clean bags of washing still in my hands. Aidy trying not to laugh as I came out like the swamp monster. And I tell the guys every time not to step onto the gangplank before checking it. Dried myself off, then back to the laundry for a retake.

By the way, my phone was soaked (as was everything else) and I couldn’t sort out a new one the next day. It didn’t work for 24 hours, then started working again and it’s fine. Lesson in this disposable, throwaway society we live in. Rest your appliances and they will come back to you - I remember a toaster stopped working once, I left it where it was for six months, then tried it and it worked perfectly. Think I’ve still got it.

Then, I headed for London for a reading of a new play by my mate Simon Farquhar. He’s a really good playwright, living in London and from Aberdeen. His Rainbow Kiss was on at the Royal Court in 2006, and was directed by Will Frears in New York. Will wants to do Simon’s new play, Guilty Parties, in New York, and organised a reading to work out what needs working on.

So, I turn up for the reading only for the landlady of the pub we were using to say …”Oh, that’s tomorrow!” I have NEVER done that before. Still, I was just glad it was that way round and I hadn’t turned up a day late. And it wasn’t exactly my fault - the message did say the day I turned up on, but also the other date. Easy mistake to make.

It was worth it though, the reading was great fun, with a good bunch of people. I hope it was useful for Will and Simon and I hope Will remembers me when it comes to casting, though probably not for my Australian accent, which was possibly the worst Oz accent ever heard (I played four roles).

Then it was full on into Collider by Shaun McCarthy. A play about vaudeville, burlesque and particle physics - and you don’t get many of them. I really like the writing, the roles are great and a great opportunity to get your teeth into something. Hopefully we did that. We performed it on Saturday November 14, as the Uk premiere of the play, and the launch of the Oxford Saturday Matinee Club, Katie Read’s new theatre company. It felt like a good opening night, but I really wanted more - next night I would have put a lot of tweaks right.

Still, Katie and Shaun are now trying to fix up a mini tour, hopefully taking in Bath, Bristol, Oxford and London. And then there’s always Shaun’s next play…..

I managed to find time for Alexa’s 30th birthday in London. Sarah, Will and I even found a great chippy on the way, cos the restaurant was a bit refined for our taste. I won best ‘outfit’ for my comedy suit which harks back to the original Miami Vice of Don Johnson and the guy who played Tubbs. Knew it would come in handy again.

I thought I might get a chance to slow down after Collider, but last week was a bit hectic. It started on Sunday with the 3rd Anniversary of Andrew and Tom taking over at the Jam Factory. And also the start of Tom’s long goodbye - he’s off to the states in January. Space hopper races, water fights, guitar hero. Suddenly it’s 4.30am. And I’m up at 7 for work. Still, made it across the gangplank OK.

Monday night was George Chopping’s cabaret  night at the Chester Arms. I turned up and he asked me if I wanted to do anything. Because I was knackered (and only planned yo stay for half an hour) I said I’d just watch, then as Tamara Parsons Baker, Henry Stead and Huck did their thangs I really really wanted to do something. I asked George if I could but there was a full programme. I should have known that I would pick up and find energy when the guys came on. I learned a valuable lesson that night - George is a shit!

Tuesday we had a meal at Hester’s. I had pulled out of a physical theatre piece I was going to be doing through the Oxford Actor’s Network. I’ve never done that before, and I didn’t do it lightly, but the group we were supposed to be collaborating with were shifting grains of sand and it just wasn’t what I signed up for. I was worried about the quality of the other work we were being showcased alongside, and I just didn’t want to be part of the night for various reasons. Knowing what I now know, I’m very glad, but I always knew the decision that had to be made and that it was the right one.

Wednesday I went to a buddhist discussion group. Actually this was another slight mistake on my part. I thought it was a buddhist meditation meeting which might have been perfect for the exhaustion I was suffering from. But it was good. I did get slightly fed up listening to one woman who was talking about all the things that had gone wrong in her life. She put her money into all these get-rich quick schemes and her friends bailed her out, then she did this and her friends were there for her, then she tried this and her friends came to her rescue. Now she’s just going to ‘be’ and ‘go with the flow’. I just thought “Take responsibility for your own life and stop relying on the generosity and kindness of your friends. When does it ever go the other way.” I don’t suppose it helped that she reminded me of an ex-in law relative of mine who is probably the only person I can think of that I can’t stand. She’s just so selfish, manipulative, ego-centric and wrapped up totally in her own needs. I guess if you’re brought up being told you are never wrong, then that’s what happens. But don’t get me started on that…..

Thursday I went for an Indian meal with Kersti, Tom, Tim, Zara, Emma, Sid and his girlfriend to debrief after Tricks and Treats. We were royally entertained by Sal, a Pakistani Elvis impersonator - award winning at the Edinburgh fringe no less.

Friday was Ros’s birthday. That involved painting to poetry and yogic laughter. Great fun.

Now, I’m off to Charlbury for a one-off return in Alan Fraser’s poetry evening. Not sure what I’m reading yet, better go and work it out.

See ya! X

Just worked out this afternoon why I’ve been having a bloo, singing th blues or going through a blue period, depending on your wants (and needs). It’s coming up to Halloween. Always gets me. Always sneaks up on me like a wet pile of slippery leaves.

I moved out three years ago on Halloween 2006 - for a trial period. The trial worked so well we made it permanent in January 2007. Thing is, I split up with my ex-wife, not my kids. So how do I make that one work? It doesn’t get any easier. I know there are things that I’ve been able to do that I would have found difficult otherwise, and I am so much happier out of that relationship, but that’s only partial compensation, something I’ve made the most of that doesn’t alter the underlying void.

This passes. This is OK. When I ‘emerge’ to do my reading at Tricks and Treats on Halloween, that’s it. I’m emerging from the blackness - again. Maybe it’ll be the same every year. Maybe. But I can handle it. It just takes me by surprise every year.

X