What a beautiful city Stockholm is. I had a wonderful escape with Number 2 Son, although I’m very conscious of this being the last of these school calendar imposed October breaks. I’m doing a lot of that this year — noting that various events are “the last this” and “the last that” before my youngest heads off to University next year. My little family unit is on the cusp of a big change, looking over the edge of life as we’ve known it (so to speak), recognizing that something is taking shape out there on the horizon, but not completely able to make out what it is quite yet. I suppose this is where faith comes in — faith that we will survive despite changes, that whatever we have is strong enough to withstand whatever might be thrown at us.
It’s hard not to think about change right now, and not only because my youngest child is getting so ridiculously old — not to mention tall. It’s impossible to avoid the economic crisis that surrounds us all. Even those of us who go out of our way to avoid newspapers and tv broadcasts know all too well what’s up. The whole world is changing and no one really knows what it will look like in the months or years to come. And I can’t help but worry about what this will mean to artists — writers, actors, painters, musicians, all of us who rely on the fact that people (1) have disposable income in the first place, and (2) will choose to spend it on art. I personally feel it acutely from two angles. As a Writer I wonder if it will be even more difficult to get my work published. As a Producer I wonder if I will be able to get anyone to buy what I’m hoping to produce. Flying back to London from Stockholm last night, the sky outside my window looked especially dark, despite the full moon. It’s enough to make you want to run away.
So what brings me back, all of us back, to our quixotic, naive, impractical, starry-eyed, fanciful, artistic ventures? Faith? In what? God? Maybe for some. For me? I don’t know, but it probably has more to do with some stubborn belief in the value of innocent optimism and an insistence that life’s too short to be frightened or unhappy for too long.
So next posting, I’ll be back to my old upbeat self. Until then….
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Literally 10 minutes later:
This lovely note just arrived from a group of schoolkids who came to a matinee of SH*T-M*X and stayed for a “talk-back” session afterwards with the cast, and CurvingRoad’s Executive Director, Sonja Rein:
Thank you to you and all the cast and crew of ‘Shitmix’. We had a
fantastic theatrical experience watching the show and the Q& A session
with the actors.
The piece really inspired all of our students who have come back to their
own performance work with renewed vigour! Many are declaring secret plays
they’ve written, so maybe a wave of Cumbrian literature will be heading
your way!
We hope to work with you again in the near future.
Well, if this doesn’t bring me back to my “old upbeat self”, then nothing will.
Hi Sue
That was a lovely thank you from the school kids. In answer to your question, I write because I must. It is part of what makes me who I am.
It’s all about ups and downs, isn’t it – what a lovely letter from those kids.
And as for change – don’t even talk to me about it – I find it’s best to focus on the moment and simply take one day at a time. It doesn’t do to fret and worry – so I keep telling myself.
Strength to you, Sue.
xxx
Thanks, guys. I’m feeling better already!
Your right…there is absolutely no escaping the credit crunch but it’s during times that this that people need an escape and the arts become more important than ever…keep your chin up!!
C x