Day 2. And then it made sense.

Scrambled eggs and a pint of coffee. That’s what my day started with, so it seems appropriate to start the blog with the same thing. I won’t be continuing in that way though because if I was I’d now have to make the word ‘hairdryer’ spread across 15 paragraphs. This morning while pointing it at one side of my head I simply fanned the other with a used train ticket and there genuinely wasn’t much in it at all.

Today I gave the group a gift. From me to them. Even though they’d made it themselves and all I did was wrap it for them. I presented them with the texts from yesterday, or as they were immediately labelled: the script.
Well that was easy. The day was a breeze from then on. They read through it, and they liked it. We assigned lines, we put it in the space. They spoke text into microphones and it started to feel like the beginnings of a performance. It was happening! We got a lot done and everyone worked really hard. We hid behind newspapers with eye holes and choreographed movements. We improvised stories. We waited.. for twenty seconds. We put our hands up. We touched four walls. We repeated. We played wink murder again. At one point one of the girls said ‘Oh I’ve just got why we were doing that yesterday..’ and an imaginary party popper exploded* somewhere behind my eyes.
There seemed to be more of an understanding today. Not just of what we were doing but an understanding of each other. I’m learning a lot more than they are this week, even if they do occasionally call me ‘Miss’ (Stop it. Stop calling me that.)
Most of what we came up with today was movement which is hard to for me to type up but I do have this:

It was a cold night in April. I left the house, I walked down the street, I went to the shop.
I saw my old friend. She said to me ‘Where have you been? You’re late. You’re late for the party. No one is here any more.’ I saw on the floor the outline of a body. and then what could happen? I know.. I drop down to the floor. Shocked. I say ‘what happened’ and then.. There was a fire in the street. No one knew what it was caused by. So I went to ask. Someone had DIED. I started to lose my voice until I couldn’t talk, it felt like there was some mysterious power that had taken my voice. There were greater forces at play tonight. I turned around and saw a figure in the shadows. I could hear footsteps coming towards me. The shadows got bigger. I let out a silent scream. And then his axe came from behind, glinting in the moonlight. I ran. He caught up with me. He held onto my shoulders. He raised the knife. That’s not the end by the way- He raised a knife…. and I WAS MURDERED.

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I was at a party. It was midnight and we were in the bedroom. We heard a scream downstairs. We slowly opened the door. We walked down the stairs. We couldn’t hear any other noises. Where had everybody gone? we pushed the living room door open. A man was stood over a body, lying on the floor, covered in blood. We wanted to run, tell someone.. but we were too scared. And then I went completely off subject and talked about ponies. Two ponies having a fight. Hitting each other in the face with their hooves. I realised I should probably focus on the murder in front of me. Was the body dead? I went to touch it. The cold pale hand moved. I backed away slowly, terrified. His eye lids twitched.. and then slowly flickered open.. it was my brother. and then he jumped up and said april fools.

How do you follow that?

Sorry. I think I prematurely ended that story.

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Once upon a time there was a show. In the show there were 5 performers.
They came out on stage. They performed the show. It started with a grizzly bear.
And then the bear said ‘rraaaaaa’
And then ran out on the stage followed by a flurry of bees. The audience were mesmerised.
The lights were bright, the costumes were amazing, the actors were totally in character. The wicked witch appeared from the sky. Smoke was coming up from the side and the witch gave a cackle. I’m not cackling though.
The curtains went down. Back stage they started having a fight. There was a secret door leading down to the cellar.
AND THEN THEY DIED.
No, then they went to see what the banging was and THEN THEY DIED.
Why does everyone have to die?
The performers were on stage. The lights were shining bright in their eyes. Three actors walked gracefully across the stage which was covered in glitter, shining like diamonds.
Suddenly they all dropped down.
and then ‘there’s been a murder’ someone shouted and as the microphone flopped down to the floor the performer had to respond accordingly because ‘the show must go on’
And then a disco ball came down
And revealed their moustaches.
And then the good show had started.
This one.

——————–
I jump on stage start dancing to entertain
I move the microphone back because its too in my face
I walk on to the stage and someone speaks
I come on stage and I look straight at the audience. There’s not much to look at..
I sing and am immediately offered a role in the west-end 
I come on stage and trip over the wires and break all of my arms.

That’s right. Not one, but ALL of her arms. So lots to be getting on with tomorrow. “Are you going to sit on your own in the Dog and Partridge again tonight?” I hear you ask. Actually, no. I went to the beach and then literally seconds before my face froze permanently into a wind-resisting expression I went to Morrisons.  I like to mix it up when I travel, live like the locals do. I made my own dinner in Peter and Rob’s kitchen. What a lovely pair they are.

Thank you for reading. I just want to give a quick shout out to Alice and Leo who are being incredibly supportive outside the rehearsal space and Lenny and Nicole who are from inside. They are brilliant.

*Exploded is probably too strong a word for a party popper. A party popper is as capable of exploding as my Morecambe hairdryer is of blasting air at my head.
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