Sands of time
This week I saw two different performances that reminded me about my own practice. 'Practice' being something I haven't been doing for some time. Days spent knee deep in washing and office admin, wrestling hand held electrical devices from the children have left me little head space to flex the creative part of myself or perhaps that is just an excuse. The first performance I saw was Ghost Town a play written by my friend. The play was the story of a boy who was suffering with OCD. His experience and his distress was played out on a beach. There it was, a stage full of sand staring me in the face. The play was a personal story, an articulation of my friends own struggles with OCD. As I heard her voice through the boy actor I realised how little I had understood her pain. I remembered my own different struggle with mental health and recalled the extreme catharsis and release I experienced from finding ways to articulate those complex thoughts and emotions through performa
