One (Wo)man Show

Last month I went to see a one-man show 'The Trials and Tribulations of Mr. Pickwick* at The Purple Theatre, Brighton, starring Nigel Nevison (can you star in a one-person show? well, it's one way to get top billing). I knew nothing about The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickins and felt a slight sense of dread that I was going to potentially have to sit through a couple of painful hours of tedious theatrical torture, where I'd have to gnaw off part of my own hand in order to remain sane. 

I'm happy to report that I needn't had worried as it was a joy from start to finish - and not too long to boot. Part of the reason for wanting to go was because I was keen to see how staging issues were resolved and what kind of narrative would be used to tell the story. This is because I am planning to write and perform my own one-woman show in collaboration with someone who shall be known as Grayson Bart. Unlike the already fictional Pickwick Papers as an inspiration, we are basing the show on an actual real-life person, called Charlotte Charke, daughter of Colley Cibber, a (then) famous (even infamous) actor-manager, playwright and Poet Laureate, who was active in 18th Century London. She was an extremely unconventional person and had a very unusual life for a woman of this period - or quite frankly - any period! At this stage we are still very much immersed in research, which whilst fascinating, is also like wading through treacle. There's so much material there: she was a actress in a turbulent period for the theatre and excelled in 'breeches roles' (where a female character dresses as a man); she had a troubled relationship with her father (and indeed with all men, since she was not content to play the traditional 'demure' female role either on stage or off it); she often played her father's love-interest opposite him on stage; as a young women she set herself up as a quack, peddling potions made from snails to her 'patients'; later she sold sausages for a time and incidentally, for a significant part of her life dressed as a man and called herself Mr Brown and even incited a few marriage proposals from love-stuck gentlewomen. Where to start to dramatise all that drama?! I must admit it's quite daunting... you kind of need a 'hook' to hang it on, and if that means inventing one and being a little liberal with the 'truth' so be it. 

It may be that we give it a Shakespearian twist, pop her in a time-machine or give her some kind of masked superhero(ine) identity - at this stage we just don't know and quite frankly anything is up for grabs. This Monday, Grayson and I will attempt to come up with an initial structure (or several possible structures) to give the continued research a bit more of a focus**. Last week we watched the Ian McKellen version of King Lear with this purpose in mind. Brilliantly acted, beautifully staged, but still tough (at least for us) at three hours long. This was a vast improvement on the Brian Blessed version however which induced some fairly insane rocking and quite possibly dribbling in us, its viewers. Brian Blessed just never stopped being Brian Blessed and we both found it impossible to follow. This is the thing with Shakespeare, in my opinion: done badly, it's impenetrable indistinguishable mush where 'act-oars' feel the need to put on their best 'Shakespearian voice'; on the other hand, performed and directed well, where the actor actually knows what s/he is saying, it's beautiful. Apparently Cibber adapted some Shakespeare plays (according to one source, his Romeo and Juliet is vastly superior to the Bard's!) so this is a possibility. 

It was extremely useful for me to watch Nevison's Pickwick to see how he used the space and props to become different characters on stage. At just over an hour long, it was the right length too. Having been in Dickie's productions, which with all the 'dicking about' he did with them could run for 3 - sometimes 4 hours(!) I know how tedious and disrespectful this can feel for an audience. Lesson learnt: don't make it necessary for anyone to have to bite their own arm off (or perhaps more likely, leave) if they're going to watch your show!

* http://www.whatsonstage.com/index.php
  http://www.dickens2012.org/event/trials-and-tribulations-mrpickwick
**This must be done by December 20th or it'll mean more punishments of the marzipan-variety for me, as it's on the 'priority task-list' to be achieved for this month!

Charlotte Charke, impersonating her father Colley Cibber at the age of four.

Eating Humble Pie (or the 'devil's food'!)

I am back on track in terms of dealing with my procrastination; the diary system is being implemented with points being allotted to various tasks, 'frogs' and duties - and what do points make? "PRIZES!" I hear you cry. Oh yes, indeed they do.... Unfortunately, lack of them also result in 'punishments'. As I've mentioned in previous posts, points mean nada unless there's a reward or a consequence. Although points-wise last month, I'd come out as neutral (neither reward-worthy, or forfeit deserving), I'd failed miserably on achieving my goals, so a punishment was indicated. This was administered this afternoon and involved me having to eat marzipan. I cannot begin to tell you how revolting I think that stuff is. This took the form of a Battenberg cake (see picture below) and I think the cafe staff thought I was pretty bonkers when they said 'enjoy' and I confessed I hated it!

BLEURGH! THE HORROR, THE HORROR!

I thought I could at least enjoy the pretty sponge bits after I'd forced down that evil yellow muck, but I felt so sick afterwards that I had to concentrate my efforts on not chucking up over this laptop. If that doesn't learn me to do my 'to-do' list, I don't know what will.... However, as I seem to have reached stagnation over the research for the one-woman show, we shall see...

Fingers in a few pies

Although I have been 'resting' for a while in terms of actorizing work, that does not mean I haven't been creatively busy. In fact I am actually quite proud of myself for having actually done something with my long-dormant screenplay which has been sitting in a drawer, gathering dust for the last ten months. I've entered it into a Channel 4 competition for new writers: http://4talent.channel4.com/people-development/4screenwriting: http://4talent.channel4.com/people-development/4screenwriting. Of course it would be bloody amazing if it was successful, but with 2000 applications and just a handful of places, the probability isn't high. The chance to work alongside industry professionals to develop a script would be a wonderful opportunity, so fingers crossed for me!

Whatever the outcome I am genuinely chuffed for having done something with it. I worked on it steadily (but slowly) for about a year before being advised that I might like to develop one of the characters more fully, which would have involved a fairly radical rewrite. Then I found myself overwhelmed with the madness of being in Faustarse and the upheaval of what was to follow, so yet again, this appeared to be another project that would never see the light of day. This was until Lorraine, a friend who has directed me in various pieces (and who incidentally has also suggested the subject of my one-woman-show) posted about the competition on my Facebook page, stating that as my 'muse' she felt obliged to let me know about it. The only thing that I had in an anywhere near state to submit was my screenplay. I felt so disconnected from it, I was dreading getting reacquainted with the characters - who in a Pirandello-way, would surely be angry after being so neglected for so long - I mean, one had already committed suicide for Chrissakes! So it was a pleasant surprise that it wasn't anywhere near as bad as I thought, and in fact genuinely a pleasure to work on it again.

There was no time for the radical re-write, but I tidied things up, reformatted character introductions according to convention and added a few 'filler' scenes until I was pretty satisfied with it. Lorraine read it and fed back that I might like to reconsider some of the character's names, as they were fairly 'anachronistic' for our time, and in fact, it read like something from the 1970's but with modern technology. I had wanted it to have a sort of old-fashioned, cloying and suffocating feel to it, but obviously this is not good if it's coming across as 'wrong' as opposed to a choice. However, renaming the characters would feel to me as though they'd gone into a dressing room and come out as someone else so that could not be an option. Therefore I simply heightened it a bit; for example I made the protagonist's mother listen to a vintage radio when she was cooking. I felt far more stressed writing the covering letter to be honest. Although the writing in the screenplay should speak for itself, one does need to sell one's screenplay in one's covering letter, doesn't one! I found an example covering letter after a quick Google search: http://www.sellascript.com/source/resources/Sampleemailquery.pdf 
Although it's clearly American, I thought it better to base it on something than nothing at all. Here's my 'in-a-nut-shell tag-line (or whatever it's called):

Trevor is a chronically single thirty-something IT support worker still living with his mother, who sometimes behaves like his girlfriend. Increasingly bogged down by fears and intricate rituals, Trevor’s world becomes unbearably small and he seeks solace in the visitors’ book of his local church. 

Breaking In New Shoes...

I often label my procrastination as laziness, but more accurately I think it is 'fear in disguise', i.e. If I don't try, I won't be disappointed. This is the twisted (and mostly unconscious) logic that I believe operates behind my inertia. The behaviour often looks like laziness (hence the title of this blog 'acting lazy') and can take the form of staying in bed too long, writing lists of things to do and then not doing them or sloping about in my dressing gown but what I usually feel is like a rabbit caught in the headlights. 

I have a few good days at tackling things and then something happens that throws me off and I feel I'm back to square one. Recently a lot of things have happened to throw me off. The last few months have been hard in general. Obviously a break-up is a major blow, but so is losing 3 iPhones in as many months. Last Friday my latest replacement went for a burton down a drain when I was unlocking my bike. I couldn't believe it and fell to my knees shaking my fists at the iPhone gods and yelling "Noooo!" whilst frantically scraping  at the drain cover like a madwoman. The only upside of this was the kindness of the lovely Samuel, a complete stranger at the time and a "local beggar" (his words) who without a second thought stripped off to the waist and dived down the drain to retrieve the handset. He has restored my faith in mankind. Sadly, however the phone itself, despite initial promising signs of recovery has today committed suicide. Since we run our lives by our smartphones these days and are tied in to contracts, this is another blow. Not getting jobs from the last two auditions I've had in a while, whilst hearing of other people's successes is a confidence-knocker. This is now reading like a general list of 'moans', and next to Samuel's plight, mourning the loss of what must seem to him a frivolous and pointless gadget when he can't afford to eat, reminds me of how lucky I am in comparison - which is yet another stick to beat myself with! Basically I'm in a funk and I need to get out of it. 

Whilst procrastination often seems to be my default response to things when they go a bit awry, and there are complex reasons behind it, does that mean I should just give in to it? Of course not! Procrastination is also a habit, and one I have to believe can be broken. Naturally there are setbacks, but to use the analogy of an aeroplane straying slightly off course and navigating it back, if you refocus your efforts you will eventually reach your destination. 

Last year I went a free two day Coaching Course run by The Coaching Academy. Naturally, it was really an advert for their proper full-on course to become a qualified coacher, which costs thousands and therefore completely out of the question. It also seems to me that many people who don't quite know what to do with their lives become coachers. Maybe that's unfair, but I would personally feel a bit of a fraud advising others to become more effective, organised high achievers when I struggle with identifying, setting and achieving my own goals. At least once a week I get an email from them, urging them to come on one of their courses or to recommend a friend, but which also includes a link to their blog which has some useful titbits: http://www.coachingacademyblog.com/?p=5421 

This entry had some timely advice about breaking negative habits and forming more useful ones. The writer (Susan Grandfield) compares the negative habit that you want to change with wearing a comfortable old pair of shoes. You know they are worn and others are noticing how old they look, but they fit really well (so well that you don't even know you're wearing them) and they don't give you blisters! You know you need some new ones, but the idea of traipsing round the shops trying them on for size and perhaps not finding any that are suitable is painful. And then you have to break them in. Grandfield suggests doing the following: 

• become aware of the behaviour or thought that you want to change and specifically when they act out (you may want to write it down so that you can start to recognise the pattern)

• every time you feel yourself doing or thinking that thing, pause, take a breath and change your physiology or your environment

•  identify what behaviour or thought you would like to have instead

• start doing it and keep doing it for 21 days

She adds that it is more realistic to assume that breaking a habit and forming a new more useful habit will take up to 100 days! Ouch... I'm not sure what that means if in terms of setbacks, where I go back to old habits, which can happen as frequently as once or twice a week (and if I'm honest, more). But hopefully it doesn't mean I am completely back to square one - even if it looks like square one! 

Coincidentally I have also invested in a new pair of shoes because I had to admit that my old comfy ones were beginning to let the rain in and were looking like they were discarded by a tramp. The new ones pinch a bit and feel 'odd', but I'm sure in 21 days or less they will feel like they belong on my feet!

Someone posted this on Facebook. Don't know who took the image, but it seemed fitting and it amused me!

Trying To Get A Nibble

I do sometimes wonder why I have picked a profession that is precarious at the best of times and a mean and fickle friend at the worst. Where one moment you can be brimming over with confidence and the next you can doubt your ability to walk and talk convincingly at the same time. However I comfort myself with the knowledge that when I was trying to have a sensible career as a teacher, it was still a lean and precarious occupation with part-time variable hours and short term contracts obliging you to effectively work a lot for free; sudden budget freezes, loads of prep and ungrateful 'audiences'. May be the two aren't so dissimilar... In many ways, it was becoming a teacher that re-ignited my 'guilty secret' of performing, long suppressed as a teenager. When I left teaching, burnt out, I did briefly think about retraining in something practical and tangibly useful, such as plumbing, but then I remembered that I'm about as handy with a spanner as an orangutan with an iPad and since you never get a standing ovation for unblocking a u-bend, I decided to 'follow my dream'. Trouble is unless you're a 'success' (and defining that is never easy - even well-known actors fall on hard times and crisis of confidence, according to many of their autobiographies) one can easily start to wonder if 'following your dream' is just another way of saying you're deluded. Particularly as the lack of stability and 9-5ness highlights any procrastination-based transferable skills you may have acquired and naturally I'm the first to admit that I have those in abundance!

So weeks can pass with nothing promising acting-wise on the horizon - except vague assurances or promises that I've learnt not to pin anything on. A few workshops here, a ten minute play there and a crashingly boring film all pass, making the nightmare, yet adrenalin filled experience of Faustarse fade into memory as a dull ache. Never do I want to experience that way of working again, but why oh why can't things be blended into a 'smoothie' of a constant and manageable workload of paid, yet exciting and stimulating work, with interesting and supportive directors? Well, apparently it can't, because acting ain't like that, and neither is real life, which is why I have decided to write my own one woman show in partnership with a friend and sometimes collaborator, but more on that another time...

In the meantime I have had two auditions in a week. Last week I had one for an interactive audience-participation improvisation piece of site specific theatre-type-thing in London. It was a two hour workshop audition and I felt very comfortable and in my element. It was a very young company in both senses of the word and I had at least ten years on the next oldest person there, and many of them seemed to know each other. it was the second of two large workshop auditions and therefore I made some bold choices in order to stand out. Perhaps with the benefit of hindsight, drawing 'Hitler' on my balloon character and trying to 'sell' a ball ("I only need one ball you see") to another balloon character did not endear me to the casting crew as someone to lead an innocent audience member though their 'life' as their 'avatar', but then you never know. I just know I didn't get it.

Today I auditioned for a  research and development workshop of a play, which if I get will be improvised this weekend. Didn't get off to a great start, was slightly late, discombobulated (not least because the lovely Johan lives just across the road, but the less said about that the better) and I wasn't great on my audition piece. The writer was clearly not impressed but directed me to do it differently, which I did, so at least I showed could take direction. Prior to this we'd discussed money; "between £70 - £100 depending on experience", she'd said, and obviously I grabbed at the higher figure, else I would I seem to lack belief in my own ability if I'd picked the lower. Besides it's a day's work spread across two days, so it seemed fair. But discussing money is never comfortable, at least for me, especially when she pursed her lips and said "well let's see what you can do then.." (I've since learnt that my kind 'civilian' friend who knows her through their kids and recommended me, revealed that I often "work for free". Hmmmm.... How do you thank someone for recommending you whilst gently cursing them for revealing my desperate-to-work and 'amateur' status?). More appropriately for what she actually wants me for, the writer then asked me to improvise a piece for her (although rudely as a 50/60 year old - shall I just get my coat?!). This one she liked and thought much more 'real' than the audition piece I'd prepared for her. I will find out tomorrow if I'm successful. Since I thought I'd done well on last week's audition and didn't get it, I'm half tempted to think since this one went at least partially tits up, it's in the bag. But I won't.

It only takes a few knocks to feel rather bruised and life has dealt a few hard blows recently. Whatever the outcome I shall try and adopt an attitude of 'hey ho...'  I was surprised to hear a good friend, who has had much success - at least in the world of advertising castings, complain last week over a pint how lacking in confidence in her own abilities she currently feels. At least I am in good company then. Peaks and troughs mate... peaks and troughs.

One Door Closes...(or more accurately slams shut in your face!)

I am trying to 'reframe' the shit that people/life and seagulls throw at you into 'unwanted opportunities'. The reason why there has been a long hiatus between this post and my last is because there has been rather a lot of shit flying around - sorry - unlooked for opportunities - and I haven't found myself in a 'together' enough state to write until now. 

I'm posting this in the 'procrastination' section of this blog, because I have gone rather backwards on that front and here's the reason why: Johan and I have split up. This is a blog about acting and procrastination, and not about relationship break ups, broken hearts, and the journey to recovery, so I'm not about to bare all here. (I can't abide people who do that on Facebook, and it inspired me to write a sketch about a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve for the sketch show I co-wrote and performed in). Suffice to say, it was sudden, out the blue and left me reeling. In my view the catalyst was without shadow of a doubt the toxic mess of Faustarse and its aftermath. That in no way denies other issues, but it has left me feeling that I've had Stockholm Syndrome or come out of some weird cult and the realisation that I can never work with that director again. Every time I have worked with this man it has been chaotic, bizarre and has not given me a good feeling about my work; despite receiving some very favourable personal feedback. On the plus side, (the only one I can think of right now) it's given me some material for stories which you seriously couldn't make up. When I feel I'm ready or it's appropriate, I might divulge more on here in the acting section. 

So.... my procrastination 'guru' and guide has pushed the ejector seat button from my life and now I need to learn how to be my own master. This is an opportunity (albeit unwanted) for me to put into practise what I have learnt, and ultimately to gain confidence that I can do-it-myself. There is no doubt that Johan taught me a lot of practical things that can be usefully applied, the trouble is that recently that's all gone right out the window. I think when I last wrote here I had just embarked on a sleep hygiene programme, well that's gone by the wayside. For some inexplicable reason, my diary had the entire month of August missing (maybe not so inexplicable since I bought it from the Pound Shop!) and along with it, organising my day, locating the 'frog', let alone 'eating' it.  Of course, I could use an ordinary notebook to do this, but I did find it rather ironic from a metaphorical perspective! So, July was a mess, August a write-off but soon, very soon... I shall rise from the ashes with a new found purpose and vigour - at least that's the plan! I shall schedule 'til the end of August to continue to be a mess, but come September, I shall be taking myself in hand. Watch this space... 

A Slow Recovery

It's now exactly four weeks since Faustarse (there I said it!) and I'm still recovering from the trauma of it all. It may sound trite to use that word (and I don't use it lightly) but it was such a bizarre intense experience that I feel as though I'm coming out from under a spell, or a spell in a cult or something! I have reached the perhaps rather obvious conclusion that it is just not worth it.  It may be an actorly clichéd thing to say, but "I just can't work under these conditions"! Sandra, who played the lead female in the previous play Dickie directed said it took her three months to fully recover, so it might be a long haul. That play was also a dark subject, this time regarding mental health and the experience was on a par bonkers-wise, although my involvement was less. I didn't write about it at the time, but I do now feel an entry may be forthcoming...


Anyways... this 'ere entry is about my procrastination, as denoted by the red type, so any specific talk about acting stuff is irrelevant, except as an explanation as to why I feel like such a useless lump at present. 


I may be being harsh on myself but I feel as though I've gone completely backwards and have felt rather lost-at-sea in terms of routines, sleep patterns and goal setting. Sleep specifically has eluded me night after night and then of course it sets me up to fail the next day because I'm so bloody cream-crackered. It's impacting on Johan too, who understandably gets most upset at my tossing and turning and prodding him for his snoring. That guy can snore for England - quite an achievement considering he's foreign! Therefore I have decided that this is the thing I have to tackle if the other things have a hope of falling into place. As of tomorrow I am going on a 'sleep hygiene' programme. This will entail me consistently going to bed at the same time every night and getting up at the same time each morning no matter how little sleep I have had. Johan suggested I try it a couple of years back, and painful as it initially was, it is the only thing that has ever really worked with my insomnia, which has plagued me all my life. I think crucially, the first week you give yourself LESS time than you actually need for a good night's sleep in your bed, which teaches your body to take the chance of sleep when it presents itself. Doing this recent play has put my body right back in it's 'natural' preferred nocturnal state and I am struggling to break it. Doing this will be painful, boring and tedious, but it must be done!

Life Imitating Art And Trying To Remain Sane In The Face Of Madness

Aren't blogs annoying when the author writes 'I know I haven't updated this in a while, but I've been so busy, blah...blah...blah'? Well, I don't see why this one should be any different and it happens to be true. So, yeah...what they said.


As it happens I don't know where to begin or how much to include as it really has been a roller coaster ride on all levels and in all directions and there's been so much jerking around along the journey that now it's finally over I am struggling to find some equilibrium and it's no exaggeration to say it's been physically and emotionally battering. 


The journey I'm talking about is the experience of doing the recent Christopher Marlowe play. It does seem silly in a way to not come out of the closet and just say what it is, but I still like the veneer of  anonymity, however thin. That said, I've been blabbing left, right and centre to people about my 'secret blog' and although not in any way actively seeking certain people's approval to write about them (also anonymously, naturally), it also didn't quite feel right to go ahead and just do it. So I mentioned it to Dickie the director  who responded with "why are you telling me? I don't care, I'm not going to read it", which is exactly the response I expected and wanted, and also to Ralph, a transgender member of the cast who played Lucifer. He gave me his blessing, and very kindly provided me with several of his prosthetic cocks and strap-ons to use in the play (although would complain profusely about the 'knicker-dust' attached to the rather forlorn-looking flesh-coloured prosthesis at the end of a performance).

Dickie is a brilliant director, a true creative and highly intuitive artist who goes with his gut and creates things 'in the moment'. This way of working is fine - admirable even if you are working with inanimate objects, or mediums such as paint, but problems arise if you are working with people and increases exponentially if the cast is very large. Dickie thinks *epic* in terms of his productions - more and more layers are added, there's a live band accompanying the action and control freakery is shown in every detail right down to the type of glasses worn by the actors. Dickie welcomes the unexpected and finds creative opportunities everywhere. So in the morning he might find golf clubs at a car boot, so we have a scene involving golf clubs. In the afternoon he might meet someone interesting in a launderette and he'll want to get them involved. That evening he might meet someone gigging at an Open Mic and he'll want them too. Pretty soon we ended up with a cast of 16 (not including musicians). I joked that he was "casting everyone and their dog", then he cast a dog. I kid you not - Wolfie, the beautiful chihuahua and easily the most professional member of the cast, played Lucifer's companion and upstaged us all. 

The task of organising so many people (particularly when you are not good at organising) for rehearsals and keeping focussed on the end goal is enormous and Dickie ploughed on without a stage manager or assistant director. Although others tried to get a rehearsal schedule out of him, he couldn't really think about such trifles, which meant that we would more often than not be called with very little warning, have to sit on a floor for hours and perhaps not be used. Very frustrating, and almost impossible to organise the rest of your life around it. As the time for the production came closer and the amount of work still needing to be done became apparent, tempers became frayed and niceties went out the window. Quite frankly I felt a mug at times since both the atmosphere and the process had become deeply tense and unenjoyable, a feeling only enhanced with the dark material of the play. I frequently asked myself why I was doing it, since I've been paid in the past to have jobs where I arrived with my stomach in knots, where I've felt disrespected, and with shorter hours too!

Thankfully Johan, who was to perform magic to the audience as they were coming in, stepped in a week before our first performance as stage manager/production assistant/organiser/arse-kicker and all round good egg and things calmed down somewhat and not before time. However when the play went live, we were all working at such an intensity, that physically, mentally and emotionally there was no area that was unaffected. We were utterly knackered too and after striking the set every night would often rather foolishly sit in the bar until stupid o'clock until crawling home and doing it all again. It was a heady mix. Often there was more drama off stage than on, and I, myself am not proud that after a few drinks would attempt to 'take on' the director about various matters (many of which are listed above) and get nowhere, except to feel regretful and even more off-kilter the following day. I realised that I had started to play out my relationship with my father with him, since there were several attributes that reminded me of him. Dickie often pointed out that he had sixteen egos to deal with and they were all acting-out stuff with him. This is undoubtedly true, but I believe those egos were kicking off because of the chaos of the process and the way they were treated. All this culminated in me have horrendous panic attacks during the performance on the last night. I am not surprised, with all of our buttons were being pressed - it often did not feel safe or nice and lots of people were having 'mad moments' or extreme reactions and this was mine. It comforts me to know that absolutely no one knew. It is a shame that it was the last show as the one before I'd had a ball, but I shall do my level best to move on from it and not fixate on the feeling of panic I experienced. 

The dramas continued in the after party, I tried to go at a 'sensible' time of 4am, only to have Lucifer leaning out the window as I was waiting for my taxi and tempt me with diazepam to stay longer, yes I made a deal with devil! Things got crazier, folk played bongos into the night, made out under bushes, came to in the sea and other stuff, some of which is part of a police investigation. 

Almost two weeks later, I'm still recovering. It was an excellent production and a full-on experience. But not one I care to repeat any time soon. A work/life balance is important in whatever job you do, and it's important to me to feel safe and respected in my endeavours. 

The two faces of Lucifer and his evil little helper

A System Of Sorts

My procrastination is still driving me up the wall but I would like to share my system, initially devised/imposed by Johan and adapted by myself. It's certainly not a cure, but it works more often than not, which is why I continue to use it.

Without a regular job to discipline me to a routine, I flounder; without a structure to pin me down, I feel as though I'm spinning off into space. I'm not a 'natural' diary user and I've never learnt the art of deferring gratification. By nature I tend to be scatty and disorganised. It never occurred to me until relatively recently I didn't have to turn the place upside down to find my passport - I could - wait for it - keep it in one place! Of course it seems screamingly obvious, but I wasn't taught any of these things, I didn't have role models who used them and it certainly didn't come naturally to me. Therefore applying this has felt unnatural and weird, at least initially, but it sort of works. Sometimes I have a bad few days when I don't use it and things go to cock, so I go back to it.
My System:

• Basically it involves divvying up your day into time slots and allotting tasks (or appointments and wotnot) to them. No surprises there.. The difference is locating the FROG! The frog is a term coined by Brian Tracy (you can see a video on You Tube which summarises what it's all about here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0W7GB5Fh2XM) which means identifying the thing you need to do but are avoiding and then doing that first. It comes from a parable of a man trapped in a swamp who has to eat one frog per day in order to survive. It's so horrid that he gets it out of the way and then it's over with. The same principle applies to identifying the frog of the day on your schedule. The idea is that you do it first (OK for me, this often doesn't happen) and then the rest of your tasks are easier and less arduous and you get more done.

• Then there are the tasks for the week (which might also be frogs quite frankly - but only one frog per day) which may be bigger goals broken down, in my case they are often things set by Johan (since he is the one who boldly claimed he could fix me and my procrastination) and might involve something like tidying my 'man draw' where I shove lots of eclectic bits of crap.

• The rest of the day is then divided up and I'm supposed to allot 30 mins a day on writing my script, again, I'm afraid recently this has gone out of the window.. sigh..

• Finally there's my points system. Johan introduced this but I found the points meaningless as they amounted to nothing without any consequences. Therefore I added some. I would take, say a three week period, work out an average basic level of points I should get each day (in my case 25 points over 5 days per week, allowing my self a fair two days off) and then decide on an amount over and above this, plus a certain level of tasks completed that would give me a reward. Conversely an amount significantly below (and an unacceptable amount of tasks completed) results in a punishment. That ways it actually means something. I should add that different tasks accrue differing points. Any task taking between 1-15 minutes is 1 point, others, such as working on my script gets an extra 5 points. I guess it doesn't matter so long as it's decided in advance. Completed - I should say eaten - frogs get a cool 10 points.

So yesterday I totted up my points and see that I'm into the reward zone, which means I owe myself some nice raw chocolate as a treat and can thankfully avoid the dreaded bar of marzipan - phew!

As you can see from the example above my diary looks like organised chaos, but it's better than just chaos!

A Stiff Performance

I am currently in rehearsals for a production of a Christopher Marlowe play in which I am to play the clown amongst other assorted roles. The director, who is a genius - and one who I could cheerfully slap at times (but more on that another time!) threw me in the deep end, getting me to 'entertain' the others in rehearsal (since the clown will have to do such a show) but with no warning whatsoever. I simply had to open my bag and see what came out. Feeling enormously pressured ("no pressure - just be funny") I delved in and made 'fork-on/fork-off' jokes with, um, a fork and 'you're taking the pith' jokes with some orange peel I'd diligently placed in a Tupperware container to throw away later. I so wanted to say "please, please - I'm feeling really threatened - couldn't we do this in a closed rehearsal?" but I knew what he'd say; he'd tell me that this is precisely the thing that a clown would have to do - just go in and engage the audience and therefore this is what I must do. My discomfort was of no consequence, in fact - good! - get you out of your comfort zone. He has a point (even though he didn't actually say these things - but having worked with him plenty and often feeling like I'm 'in the shit', I knew he would!)

He says I'm a natural clown but that I lack rhythm. Rhythm, rhythm - bloody rhythm! Whilst I maintain that I'm a great 'free-range' dancer, particularly after a glass of wine or three, I am practically dyslexic when it comes to following any kind of choreographed dance steps. I am happy to play the fool, look stupid or ugly for a part and feel very free to express myself in that way. But there is no quicker way to make me feel vulnerable, paranoid and just plain crap than to try and get me to follow dance steps as I guarantee when everyone else is going one way, I'll go the other. [aside: I was talking to one of my fellow performers about this only yesterday, he says he's used his total lack of rhythm to his advantage in pantos and such things, as he's up the front doing his own thing, throwing weird and hilarious shapes for the audience's amusement (and to the other cast members' fury), however I do think it's harder if you're female as perhaps people expect you to be a bit more graceful.. but I speculate..] This particular director is all about the rhythm of the performance and frequently plays a drum so that we get the tempo. He's always going on about the 'on beat' and the 'off beat' and I have much to learn from him. This is a great position to be in - I wanted a challenge and I've got one dammit! But it's also making me feel really exposed. None of this is helped by the fact that I over-extended my back in yoga and the stiffness I feel in my back and body is making my lack of rhythm even more apparent. I'm even resorting to paying the extortionate fees of a chiropractor to help loosen things up as I think it may have triggered an old injury I sustained being thrown down in an exercise on a concrete floor in an exercise whilst training. 

Reading this back, I've just asked myself the (rhetorical) question 'why am I an actor again?' - it's a bonkers business all right. Shame I don't have an actual office because if ever one of those ridiculous signs 'you don't have to be mad to work here, but it helps', was warrented; this is it!

Feeling Blocked

I want this post to be about acting - not procrastination, but I have been procrastinating like crazy about writing it. I have lots of things to say, but I feel blocked. Not to be over-dramatic (moi?!) but it's been weighing on me a bit like having an albatross draped round my neck. And I know why... 


Whilst I'm waffling on with general musings about the whole actorizing malarkey, it's all very well, but the minute I write about my experiences regarding specific stuff I'm working on/have worked on, the greater the chances are of me being outed - and this shit ain't even live yet! I realise this might be therefore a great shock reading this - and yes, there should be an actress called Lauren Olivier, and may be even one who looks like this 'photo' - but, like all acting, it is a mask. I decided to use a pseudonym simply so that I could write about things freely and assumed that with a few changes of production names/ people names, everyone could stay anonymous and incognito, but now I realised that I've been too naive and should anyone who vaguely knows me stumble across this blog, I will be identified pretty quickly. Does it matter? Is it worse that I've tried to disguise who I really am? Does anyone even care? Am I just worrying far too much about what other people think? (nothing unusual there) I mean, it's not as though I intend to go off on a major rant or bitch fest about any individuals. Anyway, regardless whether my cover was blown or not, that just wouldn't be my style in a public domain. I might think it - oh lord I might think it - but writing it down is something else.


This was compounded just this week when I was working on a viral ad and had an awkward conversation regarding payment (which is one of the reasons why having a agent would be useful!). For those that aren't in the know, as soon as the buzz-word "viral" is mentioned, it means that it is being done on the cheap and the pay is nothing as compared to TV advertising. It's all a bit of a cheek actually, because the acting is still the same, the production values are still the same (although not perhaps "broadcast quality") all the same work takes place, but the company who wants it pays pin money. I accepted a role in this particular ad on this basis and was happy to get it. But then I had a bit of a dodgy moment with the production company regarding the invoiced amount prior to shooting, which seemed to differ to what was previously quoted (crossed wires I'm sure), which I was all willing to let go, when my fellow actor told me how much he was getting paid. Although it was clear from the start that payment was below Equity rates, I think there was a bit of a legal tussle about it, and therefore those with Equity were getting "a little bit more". Then I found out how much more and it made me a bit mad that they were quibbling about this small amount I had queried and thought I'd been quoted. It was no use, they were sticking to their guns and I guess it's my own fault since I am not currently a member. It makes it all the more galling that their particular membership was the £15 student membership and mine had run out last year and since I have not had much paid acting work, I felt I couldn't justify the upgrade to full membershiip. *childish moment* BUM BUM BUM BUM AND ARSE*. Anyway, I was trying to write this entry in longhand during one of the long waits on the shoot, when the 1st AD, with whom I had the payment conversation walked past and said "what are you doing? Are you writing in your diary? Be nice!" and I thought "Oh. Shit."


But you know, it's all experience... you live and you learn, blah blah blah. And at least I got the part, and it's all good for the CV and I worked with some lovely people. So there you are. That is nice. 

Three Steps Back...

Sometimes I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle. I'd been doing really well, incrementally tackling the dreaded procrastination and I could see my progress and I was gradually feeling less...clogged. But the last week or two has been dreadful. I've regressed in a big way. Why? It's hard to say what triggers a downward turn, it's probably a combination of things. Looking back over the last week or so, I can see that my routine has gone totally out of the window, exacerbated by two heavy weekends in a row of over-indulgence and staying up to the wee hours. Then then the inevitable self-loathing sets in and I behave in ways that is not in my own best interest and this then all-too-easily becomes a vicious circle. 

I find that if I start the day off well, then it progresses well. If it's starts off badly, it's very hard to turn it around. The procrastination busting 'rule' is to be out of bed no later than 9am. I don't think I've achieved that more than once in the last week and a half, which is pretty shabby. If I stay in bed much later than that in any case, I can get this weird mindset on where it's "well, you've fucked things up for yourself so you may as well fuck 'em up good and proper". Truthfully I talk to myself at such times in a way I would never talk to anyone else, and not surprisingly it's self defeating. So I can literally waste a day, achieving nothing because I've started it off wrong and whilst wasting a day by choice (because you've been working hard and need to relax) can be wonderfully indulgent and restoring; here, for me, it is the fastest way to depression. I confess, (and thankfully you don't know my real identity) I am writing this at 4:12 pm still in my dressing gown. None of my tasks of the last week or two have been achieved...So how do I turn it around? 

Johan (who masterminded this procrastination busting thing in the first place) is going to give me a pep talk (and maybe a rocket up the arse) which will hopefully repoint me in the right direction. Ultimately though, I need to rely on my own self and my own resources; but I guess whilst I am going through this 'twelve-step programme' style recovery, I'll take all the guidance I can get. One thing I have realised is that aside from the heavy weekends and getting out of a good routine, I was slightly (ok, quite a lot) scared by the task of going back on Spotlight (the actors directory for casting agents and wotnot) and was daunted by the amount of work and focus (and if I'm honest, confidence, because the step after that is to get an agent) that I procrastinated with the more mundane tasks in hand, in order to avoid the more scary ones. This is a special ability of mine - The Avoidance Tactic!

The good news is that I have discovered a fabulous tool that I've been crying out for which stops you from accessing your time-hoovering websites. This is brilliant! I've spent all day posting on Facebook and having activated this little baby I am now locked out! I now have no idea on who has been commenting on the picture of the Hitchcockian-style seagull who has been holding me prisoner in my own home, because I was stupid enough to feed it. Of course, it's not foolproof, the extension I've added is for Chrome, and I can use another browser. I can also access it via my smart phone, but hey - it helps. Some might say you should be exercising your own self control, and in an ideal world I'd agree. But I wouldn't be writing this if I found that easy, and let's face it, the programmer wouldn't have made the extension if there wasn't a market for it. The link for StayFocusd is here: https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/laankejkbhbdhmipfmgcngdelahlfoji

Sweeping Things From Under the Bed

Having a nice high bed means I have a handy bit of space in which to dump things that don't really have a proper home. I am ashamed to say I have had not ventured under there in years and this shame forbids me to admit to how many. Let's just say that last week's procrastination exercise was rather like an archaeological dig; the deeper I dug, the more evidence I found of eagerly started and quickly abandoned projects, half read books and half written plays, long deceased relationships, as well as Lever Arch files of old course work and my previous career as a teacher. It felt good to excavate this site and clear away all this debris - sleeping on top of these skeletons would give any self respecting Feng Shui practitioner apoplexy. However, although the grave of my past was exhumed and sifted over, I was still at a loss as to where to permanently put some of these things and reluctant to throw it all away, it has quickly been reburied back under the bed, but definitely with less dust and hopefully more at peace.  

A Little Matter of Saying "Sorry"...

Monday I did some backing vocals and a sort of speaky/poem-singy-thing for a friend at a charity gig. It's funny that sometimes the less effort and the less bothered I am about something, the better it apparently is. It went down a treat, with kind comments about having a 'good presence' whatever that means, and how well it worked. However it's easy to shrug off because it was only a little thing as a favour and originally I was only going to be reading it off a sheet of A4, but that didn't feel quite right and almost by accident I learnt it the day before, but was still at the stage where I was getting the words muddled. 

Now the first few times you rehearse something you think you know, you're all over the place, (obviously when I say 'you' I mean 'me' or 'I', but I reckon most people are the same in this regard). This is a normal part of the rehearsal process and to be expected. That is, if you have any rehearsal time, i.e. not five minutes beforehand in a broom cupboard under the stairs! It's normal for me in rehearsals to fudge up my lines and then swear and then immediately apologise. I get that out of my system before the performance, but here I started to feel freaked out as there was no time to work through this stage. It's bad enough fudging things up in front of an audience but it's far worse drawing attention to it by apologising - that makes the audience cringe with embarrassment and feel most uncomfortable. 

I'm pretty sure that if a performer remains in character, then any stutterings, false starts or line mix-ups or stumblings will probably go unnoticed. I've heard it said that one reason people go to the theatre is for the thrill of the possibility that something can go tits up. I'm not sure I agree. On the contrary, I believe that an audience likes to feel they are in safe hands and can relax; nerves may be a good thing for the actor's performance but it's not so great for an audience to smell your fear (particularly if it affects your bowels). A year or two ago I went to see a friend in a production of  A Midsummer Night's Dream. Right at the start, one of the actors stumbled over his lines and went "fuck". Had he continued in character, it would have been entirely forgiven. In fact I would have assumed it was a deliberate choice, but - shock horror - he felt the need to apologise. It was toe-curlingly awkward for the audience and we all collectively held our breath while the poor bugger found his place. Like a record played at the wrong speed, the play struggled to find its tempo for probably only a few minutes, but I've always remembered it. It was a good lesson: never apologise. 

Three Steps Forward...

Progress has been rather slow the last week or so. I had done quite well on the previous week's tasks and had had the rather satisfying realisation (almost shock!) that the front room was looking more sorted and tidier than it had in...well, years. Of course this was largely cosmetic, in that on the surface it was starting to look much better, but upstairs, the mezzanine floor was (and indeed still is) covered with reams of paperwork (which brings me out in welts just thinking about it) and miscellaneous bits and bobs as a result of tidying the bookcase, the mantelpiece and all the other surfaces. 


Last week's task was to begin to address what lies beneath the surface. I had two areas to sort: under the bed (eek!) and the chest of drawers. However two things occurred that thwarted me. I got some 'civilian' (i.e. not acting) work through the care agency I'm signed with which involved getting up super early, and secondly I got a visit from the snot fairy. I'm afraid these two things conspired to scupper any real progress and I've even slightly gone backwards. The kitchen table is teaming with crap and there's been one or two nights where I went to bed without washing up - shock horror! Don't tell anyone...


But I did eventually tackle the drawers (crammed full of lord-knows-what) and will enter the under-the-bed-vortex if not tomorrow then the day after. Well, certainly on Saturday.

Clearly not an tidy table. I mostly feel helpless against the Clutter Fairy!

Keeping it Fresh

I recently went to an audition for a spot of Fringe theatre. Unfortunately 99.9(r)% of these productions are unpaid for the actor. I often think it's funny how money is always found for the venue and a lighting technician but not for the poor actor. However, we are often lucky that 'profit share' doesn't also translate to 'loss share' and yet we are so desperate to 'practise our craft' that many, if not most of us will jump at the chance to perform, paid or not. This means that even though it's about as lucrative as trying to sell empty crisp packets, it is often still enormously competitive to secure a part. Leaving money aside, the benefits for the actor are obvious: 
To be an actor (or say you are an actor) you need to experience yourself as an actor
we love to perform and it restores our confidence in our own abilities (I find that after a production, I feel pretty good about things for up to six weeks and then I start to doubt myself again).
It prevents you from going stale:
It's that old adage: if you don't use it, you'll lose it.
It gives you more things to add to your CV:
Of course if it turns out to be a terrible production, you might not want to add it to your CV. The other negative side is that if all you do is Fringe stuff, then that's what you'll be classed as. If you have an agent, it makes them mad if you do 'free work', because they think you'll be unavailable for anything they put you forward for. In my experience they don't see the plus side of being 'audition ready', they just want you to be constantly available, waiting expectantly by the phone (that doesn't ring!). However, seeing as I currently don't have an agent or an up-to-date CV, neither of these things are a problem for me!
You can invite prospective agents and casting directors to the production:
Not that they'll come of course...especially if it's outside of London.


I'm sure there's many other points to include, but that's enough to be going on with. I think the most important one is: we do it because we love it. Even though we often hate it. Let's face it, there's not much to love about working - for nothing - on a production you know is beneath you, with a director who you think is an arse and fellow cast members who can barely walk or talk at the same time, let alone act and who make you look bad by their very presence. That's why you have to choose your production very carefully...


With that in mind, I went to an audition for a play I will call 'Make Mine A Bacon Sarnie' with some trepidation. It was, in my opinion, a badly written play about veganism, war and murder with pretty dismal dialogue and sketchy characters. However I had already committed to go before reading the piece and (rather unusually these days) the writer/director had requested an audition speech, so I thought it would give me the chance to dig one out and polish it up. As an actor you're apparently supposed to have about 8 audition speeches ready to go, but because I'm so seldom asked to perform one, I have in fact precisely one ready to go. This is something (along with updating my CV and getting an agent) I do intend to address at some point*


It's worth remembering that just as much as they're auditioning you, you are in effect, also auditioning them, and as well as finding the play, shall-we-say problematic, I was not entirely comfortable with the audition itself. There were a few people there, several who were auditioning for a second time and most of whom were meeting each other for the first time. However despite us all having to do our pieces in front of each other and working with each other, there were no introductions and no warm up. This is especially a problem when I was asked (as my character) to shout in this young girl's face. Acting goes so much on trust and energy (which is why any drama course worth its salt spends a huge amount of time doing trust exercises and warm ups) that it just feels wrong to go from cold like that. The director also had a somewhat troubling manner in regards to asking you questions about the piece you just did that suggested you'd made terrible choices and perhaps ought not to be there. It wasn't aggressive, just subtly undermining in a way that made you feel quite vulnerable and needy and I believe him feel powerful, like the proverbial 'puppet master'. 


That said, I do believe the play faired much better off the page than on, and I started to see the possibilities and the potential and to wonder if in fact it could even be good. I was asked back for a second audition but having considered it, as well as talking to a good friend and fellow actor who also auditioned; I decided that the negatives far outweighed the positives. It would have been a labour of love and I didn't even respect it, let alone love it. The director seemed to want the 'moon on a stick' in terms of commitment and time (and it would have cost to travel too) and the character I was asked to go for presented no challenge to me at all. Seriously, I could have called it in, it was totally in my comfort zone and easily a part of my repertoire, so I concluded that there was no point whatever in going to the second audition, not even so I could have the satisfaction of turning it down if I got it. I look forward to seeing it performed though; both prospects of it being either brilliant and unsettling or utterly shambolic and dismal are interesting to me. My search for my next project continues...




*Notice how nicely vague this is. One to add to the 'procrastination pile' me thinks..

Procrastination Busting. Week 1

Right, to differentiate the two subjects (acting and procrastinating) I have decided to write about procrastination in red (but not too red cos it's hard to read). Why red? Well, quite simply it stands out better than the other colours. I initially thought mauve, because I feel a bit 'mauve' when I procrastinate, but it didn't look different enough besides the black. In any case, my procrastination makes me very, very angry. 

In many ways, my procrastination has got worse over the last 4 or 5 years and I would say this is entirely the fault of networking sites such as Facebook. Don't get me wrong - I could procrastinate for England before the advent of such things - but then I would avoid doing the thing I was avoiding by doing other things I would normally avoid - like cleaning underneath the oven. Now the oven's undercarriage remains sadly neglected whilst I regularly post wry observations, supposedly amusing anecdotes and endlessly make 'witty' remarks on my virtual friends' status updates. I never procrastinate over Facebook. And it's always hovering in the background! I can see that I have a notification right now and the urge to see what it is, is irresistible! (OK, I just did and and it was my sister helpfully informing me she is watching a crappy American film about a neighbour who hassles the family next door). Basically I need a reliable method of locking myself out of Facebook while I'm working on other things on the computer because it's the kiss of death.

On the other hand, many people have suggested I should write a blog in response to my somewhat oblique observations and my boyfriend Johan has been on at me for a while about it. Johan reckons he can 'totally sort [me] out' in regards to my procrastination and is giving me weekly tasks to address it. 

This is week one's tasks: (deadline is tomorrow!)

• Clear all surfaces of clutter (at this stage just taking the stuff and putting it upstairs). This includes tabletops, bookcases, the area by the TV and stereo, the hallway and other nooks and crannies.
• Washing up twice a day, and certainly before bed (goes against every bone in my body)
• Clearing one of the drawers in the kitchen chest (what Michael McIntyre refers to as a 'man drawer' (it's mine!)) in order to keep documents I need to attend to in the short term.
• Two entries in the old blogosphere

 Some people might think it a bit strange that my boyfriend is setting me tasks, or that I'm letting him and adhering to them, especially as I hate being told what to do. But my procrastination is really getting me down and thwarting me from doing what I want (yes, I also procrastinate badly (or brilliantly?) on doing what I want to do; like writing my screenplay. Any time I feel I 'have' to do something, I feel suddenly tired and lethargic and I drag my feet and sabotage myself and then end up in a cycle of despair and anger. Johan reckons he has the skills (he works as a therapist as well as an entertainer) to fix this if I let him, and I've given him my permission. I'm also currently having CBT, but I probably won't use this arena to whitter on about that.

"So how's your progress this week?" I hear you asking (OK I don't, I hear a wall of silence, but work with me here). Actually, it's not going too badly. Last night I tackled the bookcase and later that evening I looked around the room and noted with pleasure that quite a few of the cluttered areas are looking lovely and clear - for the first time in years! In a moment I'm going to sort out the area by the stereo (just the surfaces - I'm not even going to think about what's below the surface, i.e. what's inside the drawers) and I best get on with it because I'm also supposed to be learning an audition speech and reading over my screenplay. Unfortunately I predict that one, or both of those things won't happen, but that's another story...

Richard II at The Donmar Warehouse

The other day I went to see a production of Richard II at the Donmar Warehouse directed by Michael Grandage and starring Eddie Redmayne. My good friend Quentin took me to see it as a belated birthday treat. To be honest, it wouldn't have been my first choice (I'm gutted I missed Jerusalem that everybody and their dog's been raving about) but I was glad to go, especially as I'd not been to the theatre for ages. I'd never been to the Donmar Warehouse since it's almost impossible to get tickets for a production. Apparently the members snap them up immediately and there's a three year waiting list to become a member; so unless people emigrate or die, I can't see why anyone would relinquish their seat. 


First thing we were greeted with upon entering the theatre was a pungent 'medieval' aroma, a simple but beautiful set of wooden beams and archways and the sight of the 'King' sat rigid upon his throne. I knew the Donmar is a small theatre, but we were seated in spitting distance from the stage and It was incredible to see the actor's craft at such close range. Who knew that Shakespearean thesps produced so much spittle?! It was literally flying from their mouths, beautifully backlit too. I was blown away by the whole thing. I often think that I will find Shakespeare 'difficult', that I won't enjoy it and that as a performer it will be tedious and unnatural to play. I do know from personal experience that the more you work at it, the more rewarding it is. It's quite beautiful and captivating (when performed by actors who actually know what they're saying!) and - what can I say - Shakespeare rocks. Even though his work is littered with cliché after cliché..