His Mouth Is Moving, But Listen To The Funny Sound He Makes...

Have you ever stopped to listen to yourself and wondered 'What in all hell am I talking about?'...
I'm pretty sure we are all guilty of this insecure little moment from time to time... BUT... I have noticed it more recently than ever.
I'm not an insecure person... In fact I'm a pretty well rounded-secure-type-thingumy-bob... BUT (this is the second BUT of this blog)... I've noticed recently how many people talk and talk and talk and have nothing interesting to say. 
This got me thinking... I'm not the high and mighty type, which led me to speculate that if other people talk and talk but only of inane things... maybe I do it too!?!?!?
I really hate the thought of being perceived as boring or inane but the likeliness stands that if you notice lots of inane conversationalists around you... you're probably pretty close.... WAHH?? 


Some recent highlights include: 
          "The show's good but it's much better now that Nick Jonas is in it!" (a crazy fan at the Les Miserable stage door)
          "That's great but what do you do for a real job?" (Juliet the New Zealander questioning my cast about their acting careers)
          "I'm not bothering anyone... It's just a cigarette!" (Woman being thrown out for smoking in the aisles of a Tesco Metro)
          "GOD HATES LADY GAGA!!!" (Westboro Babtist Church)

Doesn't it make you wonder? I can easily look at these ridiculous people and laugh at their pathetic pointlessness... BUT (that's number three)... What if we're all the same?
I guess a certain amount of insecurity is good for all and everyone. Obnoxious arrogance after all is something no one desires to possess. As a species, we humans (particularly westerners) tend to have wild delusions of grandeur in most walks of life and, to a degree, believe the world revolves around us. It would be marvellous if this were true but I think not... I fear that our western problems and life hurdles are, for the most part, unfounded and insignificant.
What a to do!? I need to spend less time talking and worrying and far more time learning and listening!


Here's to fearing pointlessness
x

Birthday Blog...

It is 11.45 pm on a snowy January day and I have exactly 15 minutes to write a birthday blog before it isn't...
As the first blog of 2010 I had hoped to write something profound or exciting, but sadly I have nothing much to say.
Today is my birthday... 27 today... bluuuurrrggghhh!
I have achieved all my some goals... I am a highly successful writer struggling writer. I am world famous and adored by all that know me have just spent the past christmas playing Marius in Les Miserable Peter pan in Canterbury's annual pantomime. I have a body that would make adonis jealous need to go to the gym a great deal more often and I have paid off my overdraft and put down a mortgage for a house am living in the cosy confines of my fat, fat overdraft.
But...
Things are good! Really good! 2010... Here we go!
x

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

A Great Load of Greatness...

What makes a person great?

Is it what they do, what they say, how they're viewed? 

There are the obvious examples of human greatness: "Oscar Wilde, Kurt Cobain, Shakespeare, Madonna, Mother Theresa, Brangelina, Charlie Chaplin, Michael Jackson, Gandhi, John Lennon... The Spice Girls!?!?" Each completely different from the next and yet all have been hailed as 'great'... 

***Humans that shine***

I can't help thinking that we may have lost our way in the labeling of greatness in modern times. There's no denying that Shakespeare or Wilde or Woolf were amazing individuals, but it seems far easier to make the list nowadays. Most names that feature on any modern "Humans of Greatness" list, are or were celebrities of their day. I'm left wondering if they were celebrities because they were great or were they great because they were celebrities? Could it be that in modern times we confuse the word "great" with "Loud" or "Extravert" or "Extreme Press Coverage" or simply "Remembered"? Do you have to be great to be remembered?

I've always had a preoccupation with leaving a mark in life. I'm afraid of the oblivion of mediocrity and being forgotten in the pages of 'normal'. Ultimately, I want to be remembered after I'm gone... Don't panic, I'm not planning on going anywhere, anytime soon. But it is still something I think about.

I'm reminded of the Chinese tradition of longevity and leaving your name and image in physical form on every wall and surface you can squeeze it onto, in order that you are not forgotten. Short of scrawling all over my walls, what is a person to do to be remembered?

In considering this, I have found myself at a loss. It seems to all boil down to media coverage. The artists, playwrights, medical specialists, rulers, presidents, popstars and concert organisers are freely admired, and for very good reason. They do, after all, provide a great service to the community. However, the teachers that strive to ground and educate or the parents that struggle to make money but still make time for their children or the carers that devote their time to the well being of another are somewhat left by the wayside. Greatness and column space hold a very close relationship, I have learned.

Could it be that greatness is something you claim with your final breath? You hear of great last words, such as: "My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One of us has to go (Oscar Wilde)" or "The taste of death is upon my lips... I feel something that is not of this earth (Mozart)" or "I should never have switched from scotch to martinis (Hunphrey Bogart)". They are poignant, wonderful words that smack of luck and wit and good timing. But what about the people that said " D'you want a cup of tea?" or "I'm off to the shop" or simply farted before they died? Are they any less great for having a not-so-poetic final moment?

Ultimately I realise, greatness is something that lies in the heart of the beholder, not the possessor. We can strive all our lives for recognition and still slip effortlessly into the shadows without so much as a second thought or glance from anyone. I believe the key to greatness is as simple as making a difference to just one person. If, on the day we die, we can say "I made a change in someone's life"or "I earned respect" or "I tried my best", I believe we have achieved greatness.  

I conclude that you do not have to be great to be remembered, you simply have to be remembered to be great.

x

The Simple Pleasures...

Food... I can't help noticing that nothing makes me happier (and I'm a pretty happy person) than good food. I simply love it. It effects me emotionally in a brilliantly positive way. 

Don't get me wrong... I'm a gay man performing in a nude review show... I watch what I eat. I have to. But, secretly, I don't want to.

I experienced it today. 

I had been dancing in an audition and was tired and sweaty and a little miserable at the thought of having to do a show afterwards. On the way to the theatre, I picked up some sushi for dinner. Just regular old sushi. Some tuna rolls, shrimp nigiri, salmon sashimi, yellow snapper and a cup of miso soup... Nothing remarkable there.

I clumped into my dressing room, also armed with a starbucks peppermint tea and a bottle of diet coke (i couldn't decide what drink I wanted) and set myself down to feast. Needless to say, fifteen wasabi and pickled ginger enhanced minutes later, I was content, relaxed, full and rearing to go for tonight's show. It's amazing.

Though I may not speak for everyone on this matter, food to me is one of life's greatest gifts and a pleasure I enjoy whole heartedly. I adore flavour, texture and smell. I'm fascinated by the intricacies of sweet and sour and hot and sharp and mellow and smoky and salty and bitter and the different feelings and emotions they create. 

I'm not a religious person, but if I had to put my faith in something, I'd raise my glass to Dionysus- God of wine and feasting. He seems like my kind of guy.

Though I work out and do my best to keep trim in an age of gym membership and muscle addiction I'm pretty sure that inside, the inner me is a short, tubby and very smiley child sitting before an ethereal table spread with wonderful things to eat. 

Cheers everybody... Eat, drink and be merry 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 Granny...

Let it be known, I'm having a blog affair...

It's sordid and has left me scarred but I can't help it. It feels so wrong and yet so right.

I used to keep another blog. It was intense and it was fun, but you know how it is. After years of love we just stopped talking and my eyes wandered to bigger, better blogs.

I have copied this piece from my ex-blog. It's something I'm fond of and thought I'd give a little place in my bright and shiny new blog. It's a little strange but I swear that each and every word of it is true...

Thursday August 17th 2006

"I experienced something truly remarkable this evening.

One of those tiny, human moments when all bridges are fleetingly crossed and strangers can connect without the daily bonds of language, creed, social status or origin.

I had finished work for the evening at the Lyceum Theatre, selling ice creams to glassy eyed tourists wearing "Lion King" t-shirts. Tired and wanting to get home and out of my work clothes, I slumped my way to Embankment subway station and onto a train. Westbound Circle line to be precise! Notting Hill and home, here I come.

It was quiet! There were probably about twenty people scattered sparingly along the train carriage in which I sat. I sat silently and a little grumpily opposite a middle aged woman, buried in her 'Hello' magazine, and a little, Italian Granny.

The old woman (we are talking as stereotypical an Italian granny as you can picture) was reading a book. I truly have no idea what she was reading but quite unexpectedly and very loudly she burst out laughing. Her laughter was amazing.

She boomed with such a deep, hearty, from the belly style guffaw that everyone in the train carriage turned to watch. The funny thing is, she didn't stop. She was in absolute hysterics.

Noticing that the middle aged woman next to her was giving her a slightly odd look, the old lady started trying to explain to her (in Italian and between loud, unstoppable cackles) why she was laughing.

The middle aged woman clearly spoke absolutely no Italian. She shrugged at the granny but was noticeably affected by the infectiousness of what was happening. In a matter of seconds, the middle aged woman was also in hysterics and she had no idea why!

Next the two women turned to me. The granny started trying to explain to me why she was laughing but I have no idea what she said. I could feel myself starting to lose it! The middle aged woman was almost crying by now and I soon joined her.

The old woman's laughter was so loud and contagious that, once set off, I couldn't stop either. It was then that I looked up the train car and saw every single person had started laughing, one by one!!

I laughed all the way home and still have absolutely no idea what I was laughing at.

It was such an amazing experience. I feel so uplifted that in this time of war and heartbreak, something like that random subway ride can happen!! It brightened the rest of my week!"

 

That's all... Just a little story! x