Back in the studio 'Pockets' Day one:
9.50am
When I arrive in the new space it has just be cleaned, there are still smeary puddles on the floor. I unzip my suitcase and a shower of stones and sand fall out onto the floor. I begin setting up and a woman walks in the room and props the door wide open, she looks right through me, I carry on. She continues to bang metal buckets and use the sink with amazing volume. I am polite but I want her to leave now....I have been building up to this session all week and I don't want it to begin like this. She is still there 10.05am on my time now, she seems to be seeking out things to do slowly, she puts on her coat with the most bizarre presence, ignoring me in a most obvious way. I sit down quietly waiting to begin, "please leave now" I say to myself, she leaves(much noise) I begin...
This is a different sort of space, a borrowed space, a busy working space. I am feeling a little self conscious as the door to the building clicks and sweeps at the other side of the wall. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young provide a quite blanket. I don't even notice when the CD ends.
11.10am
Had a good run through, wearing the words again is a nice feeling. Some bits are clunky and uncomfortable and others cease to make sense to me any more, maybe its a new space with its different light.
Autobiography, still struggling with this. Who cares about my experiences? I suppose I am not asking my audience to care about anything, I am simply sharing a previously hidden away female experience. mine. However, what I am exploring IS universal. The idea that we are all in the process of being and 'becoming' is a life long process.
11.40am
A major edit, feels very good, better weaving. Trying not to panic at how few of my lines I can actually remember!
12.30pm
Ate strawberries NOT plums
1.40pm
I pack away. Reflective, this will be a more public performance. The space feels more public. Its that different light again.
When I arrive in the new space it has just be cleaned, there are still smeary puddles on the floor. I unzip my suitcase and a shower of stones and sand fall out onto the floor. I begin setting up and a woman walks in the room and props the door wide open, she looks right through me, I carry on. She continues to bang metal buckets and use the sink with amazing volume. I am polite but I want her to leave now....I have been building up to this session all week and I don't want it to begin like this. She is still there 10.05am on my time now, she seems to be seeking out things to do slowly, she puts on her coat with the most bizarre presence, ignoring me in a most obvious way. I sit down quietly waiting to begin, "please leave now" I say to myself, she leaves(much noise) I begin...
This is a different sort of space, a borrowed space, a busy working space. I am feeling a little self conscious as the door to the building clicks and sweeps at the other side of the wall. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young provide a quite blanket. I don't even notice when the CD ends.
11.10am
Had a good run through, wearing the words again is a nice feeling. Some bits are clunky and uncomfortable and others cease to make sense to me any more, maybe its a new space with its different light.
Autobiography, still struggling with this. Who cares about my experiences? I suppose I am not asking my audience to care about anything, I am simply sharing a previously hidden away female experience. mine. However, what I am exploring IS universal. The idea that we are all in the process of being and 'becoming' is a life long process.
11.40am
A major edit, feels very good, better weaving. Trying not to panic at how few of my lines I can actually remember!
12.30pm
Ate strawberries NOT plums
1.40pm
I pack away. Reflective, this will be a more public performance. The space feels more public. Its that different light again.
To book FREE tickets for POCKETS FULL OF STONES May 18th 3pm and 6.30pm York St John University, please follow this link http://www.eventbrite.com/event/3401200081/efblike?ebtv=C
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