I finally have a time and place to perform my first solo show, something I have been dreaming about for years, at least since I was 9. It’s funny how when it becomes real it’s more… real… less of a dream. Less awe-inspiring. Because there’s certainly a lot of work to do (sound of sleeves being rolled up).
Most exiting are the lovely friends who have agreed to help me on this journey, and with their permission I may profile them here later on… Hurray!!
I always do a first draft which I love but is not perfect, in an irreverent, unthinking messy way. Then I try to improve on it in the second draft by planning and plotting and trying to make it ‘good’, but these things are unrepeatable and I get so frustrated with myself. The best drawn lines are ones I look at afterwards and can’t fathom how I made it – it doesn’t look like it’s mine. Or that they’re just random flicks of a wrist that I didn’t care about at the time but now are perfect. Or perfectly imperfect.
Right, now I’m off to bed, was up til 4am doing that last one…