Hail the Sunshine

These past two days have been glorious: the sunshine has been belting out over Edinburgh; I sat for hours in the meadows, just chatting with my friends or reading; I even got slightly burnt, which was not something I ever thought I'd be happy about. It's continuing today, but of course one can't just sit in the meadows all the time when there's revision to be done. Although, one might well try anyway- Poppy is making a valiant effort to actually accomplish things in the meadows, and if she manages to break any kind of ground, perhaps I'll join her.

On Friday, there was a script reading day at a theatre called Discovery 21- I submitted a new script I'd just finished called Wrapped in an Enigma. There were seven scripts read in total and the overall standard was extremely high- somehow, though, mine was selected to be performed in May. This may sound like crocodile modesty or worse that I am fishing for compliments, but honestly I genuinely didn't expect mine to be chosen: I was very much expecting to have pull a Helen Mirren.

But instead I literally did a double take as my script was announced to be one of three being produced. It's going on the 3rd May for one night- this is splendid because it gives me something to look forward to in the middle of my exams, and also, since it will be produced before my exams finished, it means that I'll reach my 50 productions before I graduate, and it's always nice to achieve goals, no matter how completely arbitrary.

While at the reading day I received what I think might have been the nicest review of my life- and remember, I 've been compared to Robbie Coltrane. Twice.
For some reason, one of the actors at the reading day had brought his two children with him, the younger of whom looked to be eight or nine. I was a bit perturbed by this, since my script contained a lot of sexual references and bad language, but their father said it was fine, so they sat through my script and five more after that. I have to admit that they behaved themselves very well throughout the evening- much better than I ever did when my parents took me to cultural events at their age; afterwards, the younger one walked up to me and pronounced 'I thought you wrote a very interesting piece'. I was very tempted to ask him if he'd understood what my script had been about but my mother taught me to just take compliments, so I decided not to question his dramaturgical qualifications. I tried to think of something to say other than 'thank you' and so asked him if the actor who'd bought him was his father- he replied 'yes, he's very funny: he talks to cupboards.' I had no reply to this.
This conversation reiterated a point that has become clear to me over the past few years: I have no idea how to talk to children. I can talk to babies and toddlers, because they can only respond rudimentarily, but when they can actually contribute to the discussion, I become lost about what to talk about with them. I'm reminded of when I met one of my neighbours' grandsons and said, in quite a patronising tone, 'you've got nice hair, haven't you?' He said 'yes, I do' and I couldn't help but feel that he'd won- he was evidently more conversationally adept than I was, in addition to possessing a self-confidence beyond his years and nice hair. My inability to converse with children will of course become more of an obstacle as Travis grows older. He starts school next week (and, trust me, that makes me feel old) and the last time I saw him, he was able to pull off some pretty neat conversational tricks- including telling jokes at Mel's expense- so it may soon be that I will be at a loss as to what to talk about with him, and this just as he finally learns who I am and what my name is.

Niceties

Bedlam, Reduced

I already wrote a long post about this, so I'm gonna keep it relatively brief: Bedlam Reduced happened, and so I am now finished with Bedlam shows as far as I can tell. Of course, I've been told 'never say never', so who knows when I will actually say goodbye to Bedlam, but for the moment I cannot see a situation in which I would return.

BedRed itself went quite well, although we got our fair share of backlash for some of the more biting satire. One of the actors in the original Bedlam Reduced spoke about how the audience gasped after they had just uttered a barb at the expense of another Edinburgh Student Theatre Company, and how ever since they had wanted to recapture the moment of having shocked people. I found this interesting, because I felt the exact same when I got an audible 'ooooh' for one of my off-the-cuff remarks about a show that I actually didn't even see: I wanted to dish out more bile, just to get them even more riled. I can't help but wonder if this is a natural human emotion- the urge to shock- or if it's conditioned into us by the competition of society and a system that equates attention with worth. Certainly, I received a huge thrill from throwing out "controversial" quips and I can see how some comedians get off on saying the most vile thing imaginable and watching the audience go wild. I don't want to ever be like them, though.

Epiphany
It's my current plan that I won't be in Edinburgh for too much longer: I have exams, and then no other real commitments, so I kind of want to wrap things up here and head out for new pastures. It occurred to me the other day at five a.m., when all the really good epiphanies take place, that, much like Melbourne, I would have the chance to completely reinvent myself wherever I ended up- unless it's Shropshire, of course (I hope to God it's not Shropshire).
And I decided I wanted to be nice. In Edinburgh, people know me as being somewhat acerbic and a slightly stuck-up- I think most people work out that it is, for the most part, a persona that I'm playing for laughs, but next time I'd kind of like to try being a genuinely nice person. However, the reasons for this are all self-serving and not because I want to genuinely be a positive force in other people's lives, which I guess kind of defies the point.
Anyway, as I said, I came to this realisation early in the morning, and when I properly began the day the first person I ran into was a very real test of my abilities to be cordial, let alone nice and I realised that I can wait until I move and don't have to start now.

Panto
We had a reunion for (most of) the cast of Scooby Panto on Tuesday, where we rewatched the show and I was relieved to find that I still think it's funny. A lot of art in which I participate later leaves me feeling cold, but I was genuinely snorting and roaring with laughter- sometimes even at my own jokes (I really am turning into my father). It was nice to see the cast and crew again, although to be honest most of them had been involved with Bedlam Reduced in some capacity, so it hadn't been too long in most cases since I'd seen them.
Daphne actually reappeared in BedRed- four times, in fact- and so when I said she'd be the last part I played on the Bedlam Stage I wasn't entirely wrong. Being technical, as one always should be, the last part I played was Rosie Pierce (another member of the BedRed cast); however, just before this, Lauren (yet another castmate) did an impression of me as Daphne, so in a way, the last words said by 'me' were from Daphne. That counts, right?

On the way back from the panto reunion, Julia and I had an enlightening conversation. She was upset because I'd had a cheap laugh at her expense in BedRed and had said something genuinely offensive. At first I defended myself and said that was the point of the show, but soon I relented and apologised. I felt rotten that I'd hurt her and really tried to stress how ashamed I was- but I don't know if I'd do the same for everyone if they asked me to. For example, the person I met after my epiphany was derided quite sharply in Bedlam Reduced and they'll swallow arsenic before I will ever try and appease them. This is a morality that I've long held true, but that has gotten me in trouble several times: I have no qualms about doing bad things to bad people. The supposed moral inequities of this position have been pointed out to me numerous times, but I just don't see it. Some say that this will prevent me from ever being a nice person (see above), but honestly if being kind to pricks is what qualifies me, then count me out.

Poetry
I've uploaded Bedlam, Bloody Bedlam here (you can also find it on the Writings page).

Bright Young Thing

My dissertation is in. Actually, it's been in for two days at this point, but I took some time off to just enjoy not having an essay due before remembering that I hadn't updated this thing in a good long while. Like last time, which I had to reread just to remember what was said, it's been so long since I last updates, a lot has happened and I want to try and cover all of it, but I may forget something, so I'm sorry if I leave out some vital information.

Farewell, Poodles
Rik has returned to Blairgowrie so that he can complete his solicitor training and become the Scottish Elle Woods. Rik and I met in my second week of Uni, as part of the cast of Amadeus, and became fast friends. He's smart and erudite and wicked cultured, and he was my most frequent collaborator theatrically and I will miss him immensely. Thankfully, that production of Amadeus provided me with the most fitting music to describe my mood since his exit.

This is also appropriate because it's in Latin and is therefore classy. Just like Rik.

Boomerang/Nautilus 
My new Candlewaster went up a couple of weeks ago, and I think it went down pretty well: Vlada did a briliant job in bringing a frankly weird idea to life and grounding it. I love seeing how other people interpret my writing, and this was a really interesting interpretation cos the script was just so strange. Well done, Vlada, Lucija, Rafal, Finlay and Chris- as a reward, you get a mention on the blog.

After the pemiere of Boomerang/Nautilus, Jari and I went for drinks and discussed the themes of the play and I got to talk for an hour about my writing process and someone actually listened. That right there is the dream. I then went to a 1920s-themed jazz party where they were playing 'Sing, Sing, Sing' as I entered and the combination of the premiere and the Benny Goodman and the glorious flappers dancing around me made me feel very much like I was in an Evelyn Waugh novel.

It was exactly like that. 

You Shall Go to the Ball

Also kind of like that was the Bedlam Ball. 

Above: The REAL Bright Young Things.

I arrived drunk and danced so much and so hard that it was literally three days later before I could move the same again. I had an awful lot of fun and it really was a brilliant way to round off the year: I just wish that my dissertation hadn't been in two days later so I could've partied with a guilt free conscience. Speaking of...
 
Dissertation
As stated in the first paragraph, my dissertation is done. I had to go home for a few days to force my words out; it took a long time and made me have anxiety dreams about being stabbed in the abdomen (true story!), but it's in now and I don't have to look at it anymore.

On that note, I want to stress how much my supervisors oversold the time needed to bind the damn thing: I was told to leave half a day and it took literally 15 minutes. 

My Father Retires
My father has retired, at the age of 64. However, he has immediately started doing consultancy work and has landed a lush position in Panama for 10 days- it's alright for some!

Fat Cat
Show number 48 is completed, with an epic one-off poem describing my time at Bedlam in three acts. I will be adding it to this site's writings section as soon as I'm back on the machine on which I wrote it. I also may or may not paint it on the walls of the cafe in luminous paint so, like the Northern Lights, the glow never quite fades, no matter how much you scrub your eyes.