This is a mash.
A mad mash of thoughts because I have been sat in work all day and there has been absolutely nothing to do so my mind is having an existential crisis and bouncing off the inner walls of my skull and slightly damaging the paintwork.
Do you ever read your own writing and think: god that’s stupid I sound like a complete tosser, but then you read it a bit more and you think actually hey I’m pretty good at this writing malarkey and maybe I should do some more of it and then you have another read and think but what if it’s just me being full of myself because that’s a complete possibility as well and you feel like an imposter and then you realise that imposter syndrome is a thing and so you try to reconfirm your creative self worth and then you realise that this whole five minutes was either an exercise in inner pomposity or a lesson in self-pride or maybe both and then you realise that it’s only been five minutes and if my mind can do that in five minutes how the fuck am I meant to get though the next seven hours?
Nah. Me neither.
What I did do was do some research for a new show Powder Keg (my theatre company, look us up, we’re mint) are doing. It’s currently called Bears, and we say that’s a working title but really we know that the name will stay and we will be performing a show called Bears in the near future. The research is about polar bears and climate change and whatever you do, ladies and gents, whatever you do DO NOT research climate change when you are feeling slightly fragmented in the cranial department. It knocks you. Because it makes you actually think about the stuff that’s going on and the amount that we as human beings have fucked up the world and it’s not a nice thing to actually conside when there’s no-one to bounce ideas off and nothing to distract you. So I had a little melt down (pun completely intended, haha, the earth is dying) and moved on.
What I did do then was do some more research for a new project I’m working on, a book potentially, and so I was looking into the history of Manchester and the Industrial Revolution and whatever you do, ladles and gentlespoons, whatever you do DO NOT research the industrial revolution when you are feeling anything less than completely cranially competent. Because you look at a history of human suffering, of the move from cottage industries to massive fuck-off factories and the fact that thousands of people uprooted from the countryside to come to the big cities following some dream of prosperity and when they got there all they got was dismal wages and appalling living conditions and cholera. And that leads you to thinking “well, everything has improved, hasn’t it?” and you nod for a minute and then you go “nah, not really” because things haven’t improved so much as changed and I know that I as I am now have a much better standard of living than a twenty-four year old working class woman in the late 19th century but for some people there are sweat shops and diseases and a horrendous lack of civil rights. And that makes me feel angry and impotent and sad. So I moved on.
And this is just a little insight into my day. I feel like my brain has been scribbled on by a snotty child with a permanent marker. I want to go home and play guitar and ignore the world for a while. And I know that isn’t the way to deal with things. But sometimes you have to look inward. Wrap my mind in a warm jumper and comfy slippers and say “it’s going to be alright”, and ignore the gnawing sense that it isn’t.
Rant over. Please resume.