A lot has been happening since I stopped updating about my travels around the rural counties of the U.K. There were more travels, more stories told, until I couldn’t hold them anymore. I went to Jersey and swam in a sea pool that disappears in high tide. I went down just before Lands End and swam and swam and swam (until my friends got bored) in a surprisingly warm Atlantic Sea. As the sun went down and the tide strode out, and I stumbled back on to fresh sand and saw coast guard boat launched across the bay. I’m pretty sure it was just a routine test. I made a quick exit of the beach.
I worked with other people, a collaboration no less, in The Wake, a celebration of the year passed with Jane Packman company, and discovered that despite previous protests by myself, I enjoyed working with others.
We wrote and devised the show in a two and half week intensive period, a real pleasure to be creating in that timescale. I worked with live musicians Sam Fox and Ricardo Rocha, I wrote and edited alongside Ben Pacy and got directed by Jane Packman, a strange relief after touring Miss Gibbs for so long where I insist on solo control. I wanted to write more about this, but already time has passed, and feels it should stay as it was, a live moment that celebrates what has happened and what is yet to come. It’s opened up ideas, made me think a lot about live music and I got to do some sweary ranting, which was outside of my previous (performance) experience and thoroughly enjoyable. It was sort of freeing making something I was part of, rather than something that was only my work.
I’m going to do some more posting but on separate entries to try and keep it, well, separate. I think I’m starting to work on something as this old flat is pulled down around my ears. (that’s a bastardisation of a Bonnie Rait song, I fear Peter Andre may have covered it…look it up)
Happy 8th Day of the New Year.