Farewell 2009...

2009 brought more than its fair share of craziness. In one small year my life has changed considerably more than in any other and I'm secretly glad to be saying goodbye to it. 2010 is all about stability and grounding myself... I've decided.


Thinking back to where I was a year ago, my stomach turns over and my heart starts to race with frustration and nervousness. 
I was living with a boyfriend who didn't love me and saw me simply as something that stood in the way of his college friends. I was so filled with the feeling of being trapped and of wasted time that I was having panic attacks daily. I hadn't completed a single story or piece of writing owing to the fact that my creativity had dried up as a result of my near depression. I was working a dead end job and I was gaining weight at an alarming speed. Sweet Jesus it was a mess!!! 
I'm forced to admit that my lovely friend Francesca was right. From very early on she repeatedly told me to "run for the hills" and "get the hell out of there"... I resisted for as long as I could but it was to no avail... FRANCESCA... YOU WERE RIGHT AND I WAS WRONG... There, I've said it!!!


In early May a job came along that would have an undeniable effect on me. "Naked Boy Singing" was an all male, nude review show that quite literally liberated me from my terrible situation. It forced me to reassess my situation and kick things back into gear. I went down to the slimmest I have ever been in preparation for the public nudity. I moved out of the house I shared with my arid boyfriend and moved into a wonderful flat with a dear friend Ellis and his partner. I rekindled my creativity and wrote my first article that was published on the Guardian blog, finished my first children's book and signed to a great literary agent.
Whilst performing in "Naked Boys" I met a brilliant composer who has become a very important part of my life. He is warm and compassionate and all things good and healthy and inspiring. He has made me very happy.
I am clearing my debts, catching up on correspondence with old friends, finishing projects, working hard, reading lots, eating well, being as creative as time allows and working solidly as a performer. 
Needless to say, things are remarkably better than they were a year ago.


I have enjoyed 2009 though, with a heavy heart, I'm awfully glad to wave goodbye to it...


So here goes...  2009, you were very stressful! May 2010 be far more stable and wholesome.
Ta-ta 2009... I'll never forget you
x

The Old, Yellow Bag...

I have a bag...
An old, yellow bag that I stole from an ex boyfriend of mine. It is just a bag...
It's big and it holds a great deal and it's always heavy and it's very yellow and I love it... I love it a lot...
I realised tonight, whilst traveling home on the train, that my old, yellow bag has witnessed a great deal of my adult life. It has travelled around the country, up and down and overseas with me. It has seen me sad and happy and working and unemployed and single and dating and clubbing and drunk and sober and working my ass off and idling my day away.
It originally belonged to my ex-boyfriend Newley, who wholeheartedly encouraged me to have it and use it. He kept it on top of a cupboard and pushed it onto me so that it would have a purpose once more. 
If I'm totally honest, I didn't like the old, yellow bag when I first saw it. I thought it was obnoxious and bright and over the top. I sneered at it when I was first offered it and made fun of my friend Lee, who desperately wanted it.
BUT...
I gave in and used it out of sheer necessity. Quickly packing it full of scripts and gym kits and bottles of water for my daily routine.
That seems like a very long time ago...
My old, yellow bag has toured around the country on many performing jobs, it has seen my relationship with Newley disintegrate. It travelled with me to France and to Manchester, home to Meopham and my new home in south London and travelled with me, day in- day out, to the west-end show I performed in over the summer. 
It has been with me on first dates, and second and third and fourth. It has watched relationships die and new ones grow. It has viewed many an art gallery at my side and watched many shows from between my feet. It sat by my bed as I finished my first book and stressed and pondered over the editing. It has carried home a great deal of food shopping from the local sainsbury's and strained at the weight of my laptop being hauled from coffee shop to coffee shop.
It came with me to my first literary festival in Cheltenham and was present at my first acting job for the Donmar Warehouse.
Overall, my old, yellow bag has been a dear friend to me...
This is purely a nod in its direction... Oh the stories it could tell...
x

Romance...

Romance…

If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that ‘romance’ can be one hell of a dangerous thing at times.

Once again, I find myself thrust against the gates of romance and asking myself what it is I want, expect or need from that niggling but brilliant, seven letter word.

I’m an old fashioned kind of guy I guess. In a time when “love at first sight” is a foolish notion that has no place outside of a Disney movie, I can’t help but wish it might be true. Don’t get me wrong… I can be a cynical git at times and roll my eyes as far as they will roll at people’s tales of instant love and romance and belonging. But wouldn’t it be nice?!!! I think so… Cue three fairies to argue over whether my dress should be pink or blue...

I am a fiercely independent person. I enjoy my own company. I trust no-one more than me… But, despite certain cases of cheating and lying and general no-good-nik-ness from past lovers, I’d love to be romanced. Maybe even be the romancer. I guess, for the first time in a very long time, I'd love to be the proud half of a damn good pair...

After a long, long romance free time in my life… I feel it might just be time to jump back on that unpredictable, old mule, grab it by the mane and see where it takes me…

Just a thought…

That’s all

x

Do The Show...

Tonight, I was onstage in front of one of those audiences all performers pray for. They laughed at every joke, sighed at every poignant moment and clapped with never ending enthusiasm. It was one of those "I remember why I started all of this" evenings. It got me thinking about our role as the "performer" and the relationship we have with our audience.

The film "Alegria", directed by Franco dragone, has an amazing speech about the performer's role in society. The speech takes place in a sad scene when the Ringmaster of a dying and failing circus rouses his performers for one final show. He Says:

'We do the show. We do the show for the people in the dark... They need us. You know life is very tough, life is very hard and it's very cruel. When you step over the line into the light, you have a certain responsibility to the people in the dark. You've got to be strong. You've got to take all your pain and you have to bury it inside your costume. For 22 hours you can be just like them... You can moan and worry and cry and sleep and eat and drink and make love and suffer and grow old and die, just like everybody else. But, for two hours of every night, you're not allowed to let life in. So what are you going to do now?... Do the show! Do the show for the people sitting in the dark. The show is for them... Not for you...'

With only four performances left before our West End transfer, I am filled with great anticipation and excitement. My agent saw the show this evening and I was genuinely worried about what he might think. To my delight he told me he thought the show was "liberating and inspiring."

I'm very thankful for the chance to be one of the people in the light, baring all for the people sitting in the dark.

x

The 'N' Word

Nudity...

Talk about a good way to begin a new chapter of self discovery. I have just opened in a nude review show in London, so I thought I'd spare a few words on the subject of baring one's body to a scrutinising audience.

The most notable of occurrences on the night we first stood naked before a crowd was the "What will the audience think?" wall that hit you in the face right before you undressed. It's an inevitable part of the human psyche I guess, to be concerned about the judgement of others.

There were the obvious worries. ie. "Am I too fat, am i too thin, am I ugly, is my manhood the right size/shape/colour?"

But, something brilliant happens right in the split second before all comes off and you are left with nothing to hide behind. It's not so much that you scale the "What will the audience think?" wall, it's that you abandon all hope of ever getting over it. It's way too high and there's barbed wire across the top... So I'm told. 

Instead, you settle at the foot of that great, big wall and cast yourself adrift on the notion of "There's nothing in the world that I can do about it... So I don't care!"

It's the most liberating feeling. Down the line, I've come to massively enjoy the nudity in the show. I actually look forward to it. The audience, through some strange osmosis, seems to absorb our discomfort. Instead of us, it's them worrying "Am I looking too closely, what if they catch me sneaking a peek Southwards, am I enjoying this a little too much?"

I was always a bit of a secret nudist, opting to spend much of my alone time at home in my birthday suit, but I thoroughly recommend it. Public nudity has made me feel more at ease with myself than I have ever felt. It allows you to see your own strengths and weaknesses and deal with them through accepting the universal truth that you can't stop people judging or disliking or opposing, you can only accept that they do and let them continue. With or without their consent, we are quite simply... us!

That's enough from me! x

The Difference Between The Sprout and The Bean...

Sprout... 

 That's me... 

In the grand, old beanstalk of life I am currently ticking the "sprout" box. It's not something I'm necessarily very good at... being a sprout! I haven't quite found my place to grow fully and enjoy sproutliness to its full potential. (stay with me, it make sense in my head!)

I was great at being a bean. Some would say I was even blessed with a beanliness that few could have hoped for. I was a dreaming bean. A bean completely seduced with the adventure of putting out feelers and roots and the wonderful potential that feeling provided. Ticking the "bean" box felt like I had ownership over an embryo of endless possibilities that I guarded like a protective parent. In fact, the odd thing is, when I was a bean I couldn't wait for the day I would open my eyes and discover I had become a sprout.

Now I'm here. 26 years of well cultivated growth. I've loved, lost, loved again, worked, worked harder, worked harder still, cried, fought, laughed, played... slept?!

All was going smoothly... I was sprouting and it was exciting! 

I have suddenly found myself however, at a bit of a "blank canvas" stage in my life. I'm suddenly single for the first real time in almost six years, I've just moved house, I've recently lost weight, work is looking up and I'm feeling good. Could this be the gift of a renewal?

'Here I am. Hello! Nice to meet you!'

I'm taking it upon myself to go back and rediscover the things I possessed when I was a bean. I guess, though I didn't know at the time, I was very a lucky bean indeed. experience and excitement were things that, thankfully, stuck to my adult youth like old friends. Had I known what I now know, I would have cultivated and coaxed them to remain closer to my side over the past few years. They have grown somewhat distant and I suddenly realise how much I missed their presence.

Second Chance... Coaxing commencing!

This blog marks the beginning of discovering "The Difference Between The Sprout and The Bean." 

Here goes x