Monday, July 06, 2015
Packing my bag for the first day of rehearsals this morning was like packing for the first day of a long holiday.
Except… not much of a holiday.
Packing for a long journey then.
Preparing for every eventuality.
The first three days we’re in our performance space: the old anatomy lecture theatre in Summerhall. Last time we were there it was cold. “Bring layers” said director Susan in her beautiful thoughtful way, like an anxious parent.
So I brought all the layers. And the costume. And candles. And bread and wine because at the end of the day I wanted us, as a team, to have a proper communion together. Hopeless romantic that I am.
And then the last minute panic. The thermos flask. Water. The script!
And then I’m taking the suitcase off my bed without checking whether or not I’d closed it.
And I hadn’t. And everything I’d packed so carefully fell out onto the floor.
And it’s not true I’m nervous, I tell myself firmly. I’m not. I’m not…
AndI throw everything back in pell mell and the taxi comes.
“It’s a heavy case”, I tell the taxi driver.
And it is. It has so many hopes. So many dreams. So many candles.
And the journey, the impossibly long journey, the journey to who knows where, has just begun….
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