OMGWHATHAVEIBEENDOINGFORTHELAST10MONTHS

HIYA,

How are you? And I mean that as a genuine ‘how are you?’ not a ‘what are you up to right now?’ How are you? Drop me a message and let me know, maybe if you’re northern based we can go for a coffee (I drink coffee now, I am a new woman. I know this is not world bending news but as an avid tea-drinker, I never thought I might partake in a coffee or two a day.) and talk about it more (unless you’re a murderer then fuck off).

I recently took part in a project with Coney in Hexham along with 5 other fantastic local artists. The car rides home were just as fruitful as the sessions, as Millie Harris & Kat Pierce of Theatre Hoodang fame & I courageously, selflessly and hilariously embarked on single handedly (triple handedly?) addressing the fact that as artists, in our experiences, we are often only ‘semi-honest’ with ourselves and each other.

SO on the theme of honesty, I thought I would finally use this blog that has been rotting away in the depth of a garish floral square of the net to be honest about a few things.

As I haven’t used this platform in a very long time, I may just skim over a few things I hope to cover in more detail in a future post. On that note, I am making a March resolution right now, that I am going to aim to update this blog post weekly (or at least fortnightly), at least until my website is finished.

Read on for clumsy explanations, excuses, provocations and ponderings on why this hole in the internet has been absent of my ramblings for so long.

HERE GOES! SINCE MY LAST POST IN MAY 2016 (!!!!!!!!) I …

·         Am in a new relationship with someone who I’m not going to talk about on this area of the internet but does make AMAZING homemade pizza. Like seriously, why would I blog when there is dough-a-flippin’ in the kitchen????

·         TOOK ‘SACRE BLUE’ TO EDINBURGH FRINGE. This will almost definitely be a follow up blog post as it literally threw me off my practice for about 3 months and made me question EVERYTHING. I think under the circumstances, me and Tory made a really fun show that effected lots of people in lots of different ways and I am proud of the way that this work engaged with certain groups of people. There is also a whole load of other stuff that comes with this being my first solo work and something that was being a closely watched process by a lot of different people and I am not in a rush to revisit this show again any time soon. That being said, this was a really pivotal time in exploring what voice it is that needs to be put out into the world and I am grateful to all the people that helped make this happen.

·         MADE & TOURED ‘THE LAMPPOST PETITION’. This is the show that I did talk about in my last post almost a year ago. I had an absolute bloody BLAST making and touring this piece. I worked and collaborated with so many wonderful older people, chatted to so many great charity and social workers, had a brilliant team and a great time making this work as part of ‘Bridging the Gap’ scheme. This piece is the most completed out of all my previous works but still has stuff to be done to it. I am looking to tour this piece again VERY SOON.

·         GOT A CHRONIC CONDITION THAT MAKES ME VERY VERY TIRED & UNABLE TO WORK IN THE WAY I WAS PREVIOUSLY (BUT on the bright side and in the spirit of adapting & not getting too down about it I also…)

·         BECAME AN ASSOCIATE ARTIST OF ARC STOCKTON. Yay! Honestly, this venue and the people that make it are so so bloody important. Their ethos is just bang on and I am at my happiest working there and with them. This is what an arts centre should/could and can feel like.

·         MOVED INTO A NEW STUDIO. After realising that working from home was totally counterproductive as I am absolutely and irrationally obsessed with Undercover Boss USA, I spent a little bit of time hot-desking in the wonderful Greyscale Studio at Breeze Creative’s Bamburgh House. This was super lush as it proved to me that I absolutely do work better in a ‘place of admin work’. And then a studio became available at Space 6 in Commercial Union House where I could work surrounded by other great makey-people. So now I have my own space that I have spent the last couple of weeks painting, organising, wiggling round AND creating in. I bloody love it, I feel like a proper adult here. But in a cool ‘I can use this fancy hot water machine thing’ way rather than a scary ‘wtf is a tax return’ way. The amazing Amy Golding (Curious Monkey) and super lush Maria Crocker (The Letter Room) are currently waving at me through the window on their route to the kitchen.

·         SPENT A LOT OF TIME LEARNING. I’ve been trying to break away from my usual technique of WHACKING OUT A HUGE METAPHORICAL KNIFE AND STABBING IN THE DARK WHILST RUNNING AROUND SCREAMING and actually spend some time learning, workshopping and listening. I had a brilliant 2 days in Manchester with Scottee, a fab 2 days in York with York Theatre Royal & the Young Vic, an energising time in Hexham with Coney as well as taking part in workshops/discussions and surgeries more locally, in addition to helping artists earlier in their career than me and broadening my reading lists and inspirations.

·         BEEN WRITING. Short texts, manifesto’s, scripts, nonsense. All of it. Except blog posts, obv.

·         STARTED PERFORMING AT SPOKEN WORD NIGHTS AGAIN. As part of my own political activism I performed some poetry at Wearside Women in Need event in Sunderland, and out of this I have started performing a bit more locally. I also performed a piece about Brexit in Manchester as part of ‘True Tales: Undivided’.

·         BEGAN CREATING A NEW PIECE. ‘Will there be stew…?’ is a piece I am currently in the early early stages of exploring. It is a sort-of follow up to The Lamppost Petition and will be looking at themes of heritage, home and Irish identity. I am absolutely buzzing because ARC have set me up with Deborah Pearson who is INCREDIBLE and she will be mentoring me throughout this process.

·         MAKING A WEBSITE. So I actually have some form of online presence outside of cat memes on twitter.

There ya go. That’s about it really. Oh yeah and trying to ignore the fact that the world is floating around like a crouton of despair in a soup of global chaos whilst still playing my small part in making it tastier. I don’t really know where I’m going with that metaphor but basically as you’ll all be more than aware of - things are odd right now & it’s hard to keep your head up when there’s so much to be done and it seems never ending.

So what’s next?

-          I’m performing an early collection and gathering of ideas at GIFT Festival (Gateshead International Festival of Theatre) on Friday 28^th March. This will be in the form of a site specific live art durational performance at St Mary’s Heritage Centre and is free and open to all. I’ll also be performing my Brexit poem as an opening act for another piece of work the following day.

-          I’m working on a cabaret performance. Hopefully going to be working with Mother’s Ruin at ARC Stockton to create a short piece.

-          I’m working with another live artist to explore themes of happiness

-          I’m working with Coney and other local artists to create a piece for Hexham.

Hopefully write again before another 10 months passes. 

Chat soon bbz.

xoxoxoxo

The Lamppost Petition

Hiya, 

I'm making a new show called 'The Lamppost Petition' - this title is taken from a story that my Nana told me. I would tell you the full story now but I'm saving it. Although, if you ask me about it in person, I will tell you the whole story from start to end without taking a breath. 

This is a piece about the things you never said and the questions you always wanted to ask. It’s the photograph you carry round in your purse and the sound of that song that tastes like apple pies (apples from the garden back home, you know?) 

Taking a look at aging as a social, political and personal issue, 'The Lamppost Petition' is going to be a performance about family histories, yarn bombers, Worther's Originals and how maybe we could do a bit more to support the older people in our lives. An examination of the stories given to us by our grandparents, and how these change as these people begin to leave the world... And a celebration of all the badass over-60's doing rad shit everyday. (Like these wonder women pictured below - who MAY or MAY not be Over 60.)

(Note: I am looking to identify the women in this picture in the hope to chat to them during the making of this show. This photograph was taken by me on the 4th October 2015 at the Take Back Manchester protest during the Tory conference. If you know who these women are, or someone who may do, please give me a nudge. If you somehow happen to be reading this and you are one of these women - HI! I hope you don't mind I've splashed your image all over the place and please say hello.) 

I'm making this show with the help of the North East Artist Development Network's (NEADN) 'Bridging the Gap' scheme, and this show will be touring to four venues in the North East in Autumn 2016. 

(More info about the two projects selected for BTG here)

I'll be making this show with help from charities and older people's organisations Equal Arts, Search Newcastle and Contact the Elderly and through these connections will be chatting to lunch clubs, knitting groups, bollywood dancing groups, choirs and (hopefully!) some people involved in CREE project (tbc). 

Looking at my own family history that stretches from Italy to Ireland to Retford, Nottingham and Newcastle, I'll be doing some weird stuff with paper and teabags. 

Tour Dates:

ARC Stockton - Tues 20th & Weds 21st September

Live Theatre, Newcastle - Weds 22nd & Thurs 23rd September

The Custom's House, South Shields - Weds 28th & Thurs 29th September

The Maltings, Berwick - Friday 30th September

The show will be accompanied by an installation where participants are invited to sit with me, have a cup of tea (or coffee if that's your jazz) and a biscuit and have a natter. There will be 'provocations' and questions on coloured strips of paper and the idea is that together we create a huge and ever-growing paper chain of memories, quotes, advice etc. A tea party without the twee but with the sweet sensation of satisfaction, sharing and storytelling. I will be trialing this installation at Dementia Awareness Week at ARC Stockton on Tuesday 17th May. 

Finally, if you would like to chat to me about aging, grandparents, family stories, the affect of our current government on the needs of older people or anything else (within reason!) then please get in touch. I will be holding a series of one-to-one and group chats and would love to hear as many family stories, accounts from grandparents/grandchildren/health-workers/individuals etc etc etc etc as possible. 

Recently whilst facilitating a series of 'Creative Age' drama workshops for people living with early stages of dementia and their carers, I mentioned this project to them and they all began to sing this song (George Formby - Leaning on a Lamppost). So here it is for you to enjoy! 

Hugs!

- Zoe xx

Some Thoughts on 'Get Yourself Together'

‘Get Yourself Together’ by Josh Coates, Anna Ryder & James Varney

I was ummhing and ahhhing whether to post this but here it is. 

This is a post that I’ve wanted to write for a while. A piece I had to ask Josh Coates’s permission to write. Not just because he’s a fellow artist, but also because he’s ma boyf. I first saw ‘Get Yourself Together’ in early preview form at Royal Exchange’s Swan Street studio in Manchester. This was the second time I had seen Josh perform, the first time I had been in the same room as his family and the day that we decided to stop messing about and confirm our relationship status (oooh err).

What struck me most about the performance is how open and honest and truly charming Josh is, and I’m aware that there is no possible way this can be said in any way objectively. After the preview, I wandered backstage to give him a hug, and say well done, and he was tucked away in the corner of a corridor in the ‘backstage’ area of the studio hugging his Mum and talking about his Granddad. I stood there awkwardly looking in their direction for longer than was probably appropriate. In fact it was probably a bit creepy. I had a ‘Where’s Wally’-style red & white stripy top on so I was not very subtle. 

I thought maybe this was what we did now. Wait backstage for each other after our performances, alongside family members to say ‘Well Done’, slap on the back, kiss on the cheek. But it soon became clear that this moment was not for us. It was for Josh and his lovely Mum. And I’m glad I tiptoed backwards out of the room (again, creepy), and went to help myself to the free wine and breadsticks (?!?!?!?!) and make chit chat with Josh’s friends, who were very soon to become my friends (MUAHAHA.)

You see, that day, Josh, Anna Ryder (Director of the piece & one of my most bestest friends) and James Varney (Dramaturg and one of my most lovely newest friends) made a huge step onto what I’m sure has been an incredibly tough, empowering and rewarding journey.

Since this day in 2015 (31^st July), I have seen Josh perform extracts of the show at a showcase in Elsmere Port, and the full version/final preview at The Custom’s House in South Shields. And it was this performance in this little town at the North East coast that made me want to write this piece, because this was the time that the performance changed something in me. This was the time when regardless of Josh being my boyfriend and Anna & James being my friends, the performance drop-kicked me in the most joyous and devastating way. This was the performance that a bulk of the previous development work had been leading up to, and it was bold, beautiful, angry, funny and ...‘lingering’.

For this performance Josh was both my boyfriend on stage and a complete stranger, both a friend and an educator, both someone that I care for and someone so earth-shatteringly angry. None of these things are mutually exclusive.

The company are asking for change. They are telling you the facts, the figures, how it makes them feel and what these feelings manifest as (lots of paper and vegetables in your eyeballs). And it was this most recent time of seeing this material that I wanted to help make that change. Not that I didn’t agree with Josh’s stance on the issues back in July, or that I didn’t feel engaged with the work then because of course I did, but now it’s different. It’s different because in the past few months, as the political, social and personal factors of the subject matter the show confronts has been shifting, the material and performance has been shifting too – the piece growing as the issues swell, the performance defining and asserting itself in a place where using this stance, this space, this voice is of the upmost importance.

During the performance I cried. If I was not Josh’s girlfriend I probably still would have cried. But because I am, I cried more (probz). Also I just really love crying. After the performance... I cried (obvs). I cried because I knew that this 55-odd minutes of theatre had made something happen. Not just for me but for everyone else in the room. It made you laugh and then think ‘...fuck’. It made you play ‘catch up’ just to stop you in your tracks. It doesn’t tell you exactly what to do but that’s okay because whatever you do end up doing as a result of this work is probably going to be with them. But it makes you want to DO SOMETHING, even if it is just a hug or a handshake or a chat on the way out, which is what most of the South Shields audience did.

So in advance of the performances at Royal Exchange (Studio) and Northern Stage (Stage 3), I urge you in the most biased yet genuine way to see this work, as no doubt the vote the day/(s) before will have charged the performance even more.

I think that maybe this is what we do now. Not just me & Josh, but all of us. We are learning when to (creepily) tiptoe out of the room and towards the bar, and when to shout about what you’ve seen and compartmentalise the effects this has on us, as individuals, as activists, as artists, as normal human beings, as boyfriends and girlfriends and friends and peers and voices.

I can’t say whether I will cry again on Friday, whether I will laugh at the jokes in the same way or whether I will take it in my stride in a way that I have previously been unable to. But I certainly will cherish the moments of sharing, the chaotic moments of punk explosion, the tenderness of the relationship with the audience and the energy of action. And as an artist, best friend, new friend, girlfriend, cat-lover and person, I am proud to have seen the progression of this work and hope it can be experienced by as many people as possible, even though by the time you see it, it will have changed yet again. 

Now, get yourself a cuppa. 

- Zoe xx

Get Yourself Together at Royal Exchange Manchester - 6th & 7th May - Tickets here: http://www.royalexchange.co.uk/whats-on-and-tickets/get-yourself-together 

Northern Stage, Newcastle - 24th & 25th May - Tickets here: http://www.northernstage.co.uk/whats-on/Get-yourself-together 

Cob Blog

It's another one of those posts I do that is more like a big list about me trying to process life/work stuff late at night. 

I want one of those ones that makes your teeth ache. 
You know, the ones that suck your thoughts out of your brain through a curly straw and then restructures them into something translatable, like bubbles?
One of those ones that whispers to you, looks you straight in the eye then slaps you round the face and runs away. 
I want one that shouts your name and then hides behind corners so you can't quite catch a glimpse. One that has a voice so strong you can still hear it through a hurricane that shares it's name with a middle aged condiment specialist. (Janet? Timothy? Violet? Sticky Stu?)
It doesn't tippex out the bits it doesn't want you to see. It doesn't make a fuss out of addressing you. 
It doesn't ask if you're going anywhere nice on your holidays next year. 

It's a furry animal and it doesn't give a flying fuck if you are allergic to it. It invites you in for a cup of (ethically sourced) tea. It offers you the comfiest chair, whacks the heating on because you are company and it would be rude not to. It is the only place where you can still get those biscuits that your Nan used to have when you were 5 and even though you knew they were from Poundland you could never find them anywhere else but they're here now and it wants you to have all of them and eat until you feel sick and happy and then a bit mad at yourself and then just full. It'll tuck you up in fresh sheets with just the right amount of pillows but it won't lie to you about the monsters in the wardrobe so don't you dare leave one leg hanging out. It remembers what the cold side of the pillow feels like. 

It doesn't mind if you don't listen but it demands your full attention. 
It wants you to love it but deep down it's really looking forward to a fight. 
It takes sick days. 
Yeah... a good old fight. It's heart is in the right place but it also wants to drop kick you just to see what happens. 

It's accent changes slightly every time depending on who it's speaking with because it likes to be accommodating and understands that not everyone calls bread rolls 'cobs'. 

It's the most optimistic pessimist you'll ever come across. 
It always runs for the bus and it always catches it. But then it has to stand. 

It's the type that old men smile at when it carries flowers down the street. The type that teenagers won't fess up to liking, that's when it know's it's on to a winner. 

It's tried cross stitch but it doesn't have the patience so it filled a box with silly string, wrapped it up and wrote your name on the tag in it's best handwriting. (It took evening classes in calligraphy but hasn't mastered the fountain pen.)

Are you bored yet?
It never asks that but it's always implied. 

There is no wrong answer but it knows the one closest to right. 

Shurrup ya twat. (It says.) ... Go on.

It's a pointless answer. 

A phantom wee. 

Hit it in the chest, 10 points. 

It's always the Beyonce but won't ignore Michelle. 

It's that song that goes duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duhhh... You know the one? Like duh duh duh duh duh duhhh.

It's what would happen if Mary Poppins jumped into a Dali painting by accident. 

A cinnamon roll. Tinfoil chewing gum. Wires made out of spaghetti that you can't find the end of but that'll knit you a bloody nice cardigan. Playdough under your nails but in your favourite colour. It ages you by decades but makes you feel young. Silly similies. Death Metaphor. Anthropompomorphism. Imagery that doesn't quite pin the tail on the moose. That one about the mood being like the weather that has fallacy in it. (gust of wind.)

Just random words squished next to each other really but take from that what you will. 

Is it easier to describe what it's not? Who cares. 
Warm custard in a holey boot. Holey as in has holes in it. But that's just because it's saving space for you. Room for a little one?

Dunno what work I wanna make. 
Dunno what sort of work I like to see. 

It saves the cheese sauce just before the point of curdle. It gets confused between pulling the trigger and a trigger warning. It gets up early to walk the dog but it won't make sense until after a coffee. 

I want one of those ones please. 

A really long post where I talk about nothing really but use the word 'PLONK'

I liked the moment when the actor said 'fuck' and a woman turned to the man next to her with anticipation as she awaited his reaction to this. 
I like watching people sneak in late and and seeing a performer take a mental note of it as they clamber to the end of a row apologetically as everyone shuffles their bags under the chairs to avoid a trampling.
I like the giggle of a woman sat at the front, as someone on stage walks towards her, as she realises she is about to be spoken directly to, and might even have to do or say something to help the show progress. 

I like people watching.
A popular pass time, I think. Bunch of nosey rogues. 
In the street, in cafes, in parks, at work, in the theatre. 

That's not to say that when watching a show I'm not 'watching the show'. I am, but I find it incredibly hard not to be aware of what's going on around me (the same reason I sit at the back of buses or avoid seats near a wall in restaurants). I normally position myself at the back, in a corner, as high up as possible. (Creep). This partially must come from me, as a theatre maker (...maybe one day I'll find a label for how I see my role that fits properly, most I've tried so far feel a little bit on the tight side) wanting to get a sense for what reactions a piece might provoke, and take inspiration from them for my own work. It could also come from the part of me that has worked several roles within Front of House and Communications teams, getting a sense for what the audience response is in order to gage how to handle them when the doors are open and we're wishing them goodnight, or when reading audience survey feedback or planning action for a new season. 

But mainly I just like to catch the moments that most people miss, I am a moment-theif, indirectly third-wheeling on a moment between humans in the audience and humans onstage, between people in the audience and other people in the audience, between people and themselves. This is not in any way to undermine the work happening on stage, most of the time I am completely engaged, engrossed, other words beginning with 'en', but there's still something uber magnetic about the pull of my attention to shuffles, tuts, chunters, belly laughs, exchanged glances and tummy gurgles. 

If we have been to see a show together at some point, we might have shared a moment, I might have observed you in a moment, or we might have created a moment, you might have even caught me in a moment. At the same time I will have been gatecrashing other people's moments, a pat on the knee, a squeeze on the arm when a subject matter is close to home, a chuckle at a reference to a private joke. If you're reading this and think I'm some sort of weirdo (I am) for doing this then I encourage you to let yourself indulge in these moments next time you are in an audience or on stage too, but I'm well aware I am not the only person deliciously guilty of observational nosiness.  

I like the moment someone laughs at something no one else finds funny, and I like how other people react to this. I like when a performer makes a mistake and acknowledges it and the audience make a joint decision to support or condemn this. 

A swiftly brushed away tear, a tickly cough that interrupts a serious scene, the fizz of a can of pop, the drip of a spilled pint, a sigh of boredom, a gasp of shock, a scream of surprise, a wince at feedback from the microphone. Noticing someone else on the other side crying. You're the only 2 people crying. 

Figuring out who is what to who. Strangers. Work colleagues staying a polite distance, one looking distinctly uncomfortable in a sex scene. Old friends who both laugh at the word 'goo' whilst everyone else is silent. New friends who want to chat all the way through or are wishing it to start so they don't have to ask anymore awkward questions. 
Your Mum accidentally elbowing someone who you recognise in the head as you settle into your seat. Apologising profusely. 

A whole audience laughing, crying, staring blankly. A real crowd pleaser. An audience divider. A heckle. Heck! I'm particularly fond of the dynamics of a heckle. 

I saw a performance at a festival in Croatia once where a man kneeling on the front row (in the round) fell asleep mid-show and face-planted the stage. Plonk! Ouch. It's one of my favourite memories that makes me laugh every time I think of it (seriously, like when you start laughing in the cheese aisle of tesco because you remembered something that happened 3 years ago, and you have to disguise it by hiding behind a block of Cathedral City, pretending to care about the nutritional info, that sort of thing). The company performing took it extremely well and with true professionalism, it was a Romanian company and the guy on stage dressed as a rainbow unicorn stepped around him politely as he continued a jousting scene. The man didn't seem to bothered, and leaned on the shoulder of the person next to him (I presume a friend) to continue his snooze. 

Anyway, the reason I decided to write this post is because I've been in Edinburgh and feel as though I have spent as much time observing audiences as I have watching shows/drinking overpriced cider and it is only when seeing lots of theatre in a short space of time that I am faced with thinking about audience reactions so intensely. 

Also, I went to go and see The Letter Room performing their new show 'Five Feet In Front' (Northern Stage at Summerhall - highly recommend) and towards the end of the performance, the vibration from the speakers under the seats was so consuming that I genuinely thought we were having an earth quake. I glanced at my best friend sat next to me who could clearly sense my anxiety as I tried to figure out the logistics/likelihood of there being an earthquake at the exact moment the company launched into their final foot-stomping musical number and thought 'HA! I wish I could have seen my own face in that moment', and wondering how I would have reacted to someone else experiencing that too (probably with lots of concern and a little bit of wonder.) 

The embarrassment of a ringing mobile phone, a sniff, arms fighting for space on the arm rest, tall legs cramped into narrow rows meaning knees digging into the back of your chair, the restlessness of someone who cant decide whether their hair should be up or down, the hesitation when asked 'how are you all?' by the performer, someone 'whispering', an awkward smile at someone opposite, a dying flurry of mumbles as the lights dim, a concerned glance at the man next to you who is frowning because the actor just said 'fuck'. 


I realise that this has been a very long post about not very much at all. And I wish I could have caught the moment that you realised that. Or the point you decided to give up reading to the end. Well, now I've just told you all that that is a thing that I do, have a song by Francois Hardy. It's one of those songs that makes you want to sit in a window seat of a cafe sipping coffee (you like coffee because you're sophisticated) whilst it's raining outside and pretend you are the protagonist of a film, in the bit just before the big revelation (and you're also french): 

Cya x

There's a Jelly Bean Party in My Rib Cage

Help! I’ve got jelly beans trapped in my chest and they are clogging up my brain.

Sitting in a calm environment, listening to music of choice, start to think about something, get a little bit excited about something. A little bit scared about something. A little bit like the first day back at school after the summer holidays or going to work with a new haircut or attempting to sing in public for the first time, or asking someone if they think you’re well fit or saying what you really think about an important issue to someone influential or sitting on the front row of a comedy gig or taking the day off work to go camping or not saying sorry immediately when a stranger barges into you in the street or pressing the big red button or maintaining eye contact with someone nice for a long time or seeing a film alone or standing somewhere high in the wind or braving a dash through the house in just a towel when your flatmates have friends round or reading something that you have written out loud for the first time. Reading something you have written out loud to a stranger for the first time. Saying words that you have written out loud to a room full of strangers for the first time, lots of times.

Help.

I am currently in the process of making a show. It is really scary (not the show, just the thought/act of making it/performing it). I had an idea whilst sat on one of the many bridges in Newcastle at some point in September last year. I told this idea to people and now there is a thing that is happening that I have every control over and absolutely none over all at the same time. As the show is about anxiety and panic attacks, this is worrying for me. It is also the best thing ever.

Imagine jelly beans in my chest jumping up and down. Imagine on the way up, they scream a question:

WHY ARE YOU THE PERSON DOING THIS?

WHO IS THIS FOR?

DO YOU REALLY NEED TO USE THAT MUCH CANDY FLOSS?

WHAT IF PEOPLE DON’T LIKE IT?

WHAT IF YOU DO THAT THING WRONG AND YOUR FACE GOES ALL RED AND YOU JUST POP ON STAGE?

ARE YOU QUALIFIED ENOUGH?

DO THEY EVEN LOOK LIKE NEURAL PATHWAYS?

IS EVERYONE GOING TO THINK YOU’RE A PLONKER?

WHO EVEN IS TERRY?

YA GONNA JUST DO IT ANYWAY THOUGH RIGHT?

And imagine that on the way down, another jelly bean has heard that jelly bean’s question and is screaming back an answer (out of politeness):

I DON’T KNOW.

ANYONE WHO’S EVER FELT IT, ANYONE WHO LIKES THE RED AUNTS, ANYONE WHO IS THERE FOR  SOMEONE WITH ANXIETY. FOR YOU.

YES. IF ANYTHING, MORE.

THAT WOULD BE A SHAME :(

NOT BIOLOGICALLY POSSIBLE.

DEFINITELY NOT.

NOPE.

MAYBE.

THE TRIANGLE, SILLY.

WHO ARE YOU KIDDING, YOU HAVE TO! YES YES YES YES YES.

Hello. My name is Zoe, if you are here reading this then you probably already know that. I know this is an unconventional first blog post but I didn’t want to do the whole ‘I like cats & baking banana bread & reading the same books over and over again’ speech, even though all of those things are true.

I am a performance maker and poet in the very early stages of my career and I created this blog so I could have a space to process my thoughts about theatre and some life that happens in between. It just so happens that this space is public.

So... hello. 

I hope you are cosy, warm, fed and watered, and I hope you decide to come back to my blog occasionally. I hope occasionally you’d like to join in. I hope that you occasionally get some inquisitive jelly beans in your chest. I hope you have some comforting and honest jelly beans bouncing around in the mix too, to help with those questions, but if not, that’s okay.

I hope you don’t mind my over-use of the word occasionally, or my use of repetition, because that’s probably not going anywhere.

There’s bean ( tehe puns ) one particular jelly bean in my chest for a while, this one was a gobby little shit who had several questions:

ARE YOU EVER GOING TO START THAT BLOG YOU’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT FOR THE PAST 4 YEARS? ARE YOU STILL GOING TO FIND A GARISH FLORAL BACKGROUND? WILL YOU EVER BE BRAVE ENOUGH?

Hello.

NOTE: the jelly beans might actually be swimming pool water.