So I’m up at me mam and dad’s at the mo. It’s the same house they’ve lived in since I was a baby and they don’t chuck much out. And so today as I was looking for a doll that I could pretend was Pippa Haywood and another that I could pretend was Toby Jones (for various photo opportunities and to help feed the endlessly hungry WeShadows twitter account – obis) I found a wealth of treasures.
I came across an entire box of Pippas (anyone old enough to remember Pippa’s? No? Ah sod you, all you youngsters with your dreams in tact). But also, this head from a 1960s Sindy doll which I have decided to use in my act on Tuesday night. Classy.
Hmm. Obviously there was something missing. And then I found this at the bottom of the old shoe box and everything made sense again…
Phew. She just seems so complete now. I’ll bet she’s really happy (to be continued…)
However early I get up, the birds are always up before me. This in itself shows a great deal commitment to the early hours of the day but on top of that: they’re singing! I can’t even speak till gone ten. They should be commended for their vivacity and their continually annoying positive outlook.
Check out this lovely robin. He’s proper amazing but I’m really glad he doesn’t live near my bedroom window.
Well. I did it. With a little help from my friends. I now look like a crazy person because I haven’t been out for three days. I know how loads of people just say that sort of thing but I proper mean it. Crazy person who looks a bit grubby. I feel grubby. On the inside. Kickstarter has very nearly finished me off. And it’s nobody’s fault but my own. I should have started it weeks ago.
Hang on. I did start it weeks ago. I made the video for the page in May.. or was it April? (see lovely shot of brilliant Pippa Haywood below who I’m making be in my film)
“What’s Kickstarter?” some of you may wonder. You fools. You innocent fools. It’s a crowd funder super site and I’m using it to try and fund my project WE SHADOWS which launches (fingers crossed) on Midsummer. Appropriate given the film is inspired by Helena and Puck from Midsummer Night’s Dream! And so poetic! What a cool idea Chris…. ok it’s actually sort of the day after that we launch (Tuesday 21st June) but if I do it in the early hours of the morning it’s still Midsummer’s Night! Isn’t it, sort of? If I do it when it’s still dark?…
Bollocks. Ok look. Tuesday is around about the Midsummer area. So I will be continuing to call it Midsummer despite all protestations to the contrary. Heed ye. I’m so glad that’s cleared up.
I am now going to have a wash and eat something other than digestive biscuits with butter on them. Yeah yeah. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, ok?
I could pretend that last night went well and that I made a good job of describing the film, my experience and passions. But it didn’t. Or I didn’t. I had cobbled together a slide show from my last couple of films so folk could have something to see and because I didn’t want to talk for ten nimbuses. But it just went on and on and for some fucking reason (mainly because it was exactly the right length) I stuck Hushabye flipping Mountain under the Our Ordered Lives slides which made it look like a bad episode of Home and Away.
I met a some great lasses who want to work on WE SHADOWS. And the angel lady – that’s how I remember “Gabriella”- told me about her great SS feature idea (Shakespeare’s Sister not The Gestapo). And beautiful Alice who looks like she has just stepped out of a water nymph painting but smokes roll ups and swears (good combo) illuminated me as to the importance of the crowdfunder video. And now I’m really afraid. I need to get Toby in a room with a camera but he’s so busy I can’t even get him on the phone just now. Pippa is filming in Sheffield. Perhaps I’ll just post this photo of her instead, with a bit of Ken Burns effect … and then just get Bernadette Russell to do an impersonation of Toby. I can only do Steve McQueen so that’s no good.
I also tripped and fell outside the venue on the way in and – as my mate’s mam says – “I fell me length”. In retrospect I can see how this may have been the Film God doing a bit of foreshadowing as they say in story land. I shall try and pay a bit more attention to small things that occur and read meaning into trivia. Because that’s absolutely not the first sign of madness.
Lent Count: I didn’t have any fags. I didn’t have any biscuits. It is NOT making me a better person.
I bought four bags of fudge at my favourite sweet shop in Keswick. They’ve done fudge there the same way forever. Or since I was a kid. Same difference. My sister likes it. My friends in London like it. So on the way home from visiting the folks I bought four bags. I’ve now eaten three. I actually ate the third late last night in bed whilst I was watching Episodes. Luckily for me, due to a horror story my mam tells about most of her teeth being whipped (sp?) out when she was eighteen, it is an impossibility for me to go to bed without cleaning the pegs… even if I’m drowning in my cups. boyfriends will attest to this. I guess it can get quite irritating…. yeah well fuck ’em. Not as irritating as they were. I mean who can piss for a whole twenty seconds first thing? It was like listening to a fucking horse. Digresssion. So I didn’t go to sleep with fudge resin on my molars. But I did wake up with fudge crumbs in the bed.
Bed and fudge. Fudge and bed. All week. And this awful oppressive weather. Something’s gotta give.
Had an audition today to play someone’s mother. Uh – oh. More fudge and more bed if I hadn’t seen how this shit was gonna pan out. Which I did. So I went to see my mate and his baby instead. Ate two Greg’s pasties. The veggie ones though coz I’ve heard how they make the meat ones…
So then I’m at a crossroads. Come home, more fudge and bed and be in a diabetic coma by friday? .. Or… bottle of wine and fags. Yes!!!! I was clever! I went for the wine and fags. And alter… much later when I have finished gorging myself on Netflix… I will try to resist the fudge.
This has not been a great week. though the baby and friend were super cool.
SOME TIME IN THE PAST:
Mam: What do you use to clean your pans and oven?
Mam: What do you use?
Me: Er – a cloth I suppose.
Mam: But how do you get the grease off? And all the gunk?
Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about
Mam: What colour is your grill?
Me: D’you mean the metal thing I make the toast on?
Me: Black … I think
Mam: Not the pan itself. The grid that sits in it.
Me: The grid thing?
mam: How long’s it been black?
Me: What do you mean?
Mam: How long?
Me: It’s always been black.
Mam: It’s stainless steel
Mam: I’ve got you this.
(HANDS OVER A BEAUTIFUL SHIMMERY COPPER COLOURED CLOTH)
Me: That’s nice. What is it?
Mam: It’ll make your silver bits silver again.
Me: What silver bits?
Mam: The ones you think are black
AND THEN TODAY:
A woman (see “me” above) who has only two days left to finish the second draft of her first ever commission for the BBC, who has never scoured a single thing in all her life, remembers the coppery gift from moons ago and spends the next happy hour scouring a grill pan grid and her fingers. And though the grill pan grid is glinting once more, outside it is almost dark..
I can’t believe how annoying I am. All I have to do is write a blog for them. Something chatty. Something “me”. Something with advice for other writers and bit on how I feel having won. But I keeps swerving off into darkened lanes as though some malevolent force were guiding my hand. Not only that but I keep wanting – and this is unprecedented – to do my tax instead.
I am now, of course, writing a blog to put off writing a blog. Staggering.