Introduction and Justification

Hello, and welcome to my new blog.

That's the easy bit out of the way. But you see, it's with an awkward stance I begin this new foray into blogging. This time, unlike previous attempts, I'm trying to write something of worth over a document of my own tedious vanity. Not that i'm above it. I've fallen into the bear trap of 'hey, so like... um, this is my life. And I went here today, and did all these things...'

And who on earth wants to read that? I certainly don't.

There's something about blogs and blogging and online journals etc, which just seems to teeter endlessly over a pit of self-ridiculing indulgence and dullard opinion. I would hate to fall into all that. Again.

I wanted to write about mine and Del's experiences with das théatre. Last summer, on the way to rehearsals for 'Penetrator', we found ourselves carrying large holdalls full of props and paraphenalia sans Steve. Struggling down the road in the midsummer heat, I turned to my great friend and co-director and said; 'Did you ever imagine, having your own company... doing your own shows... and it turning out like this?'. Dragging hulking great bags across Twickenham. I wonder if Max Stafford-Clarke ever did this?

But it's experiences such as this (along with flooded campsites, venue hires, printing, lighting boards) which compel me back into the Blogosphere. I felt that these experiences should be documented. At first I considered writing a book, but I think without the occasional touch of humour or slight deviation from topic it would just seem really clinical and offputting. The fluidity of a blog allows an open, informal platform. Immediacy. That's the main driving compulsion.

When you start out on your own initiative, to go independent and to start doing your own theatrical endeavours by yourself you encounter millions of pitfalls that you never saw coming. We're not unique to this. Every fringe company experiences this. But goodness me, I wish someone had given us some advance warning. It's a bit like unicycling through a minefield and spotting a UN envoy on the horizon ready to guide you through. When they get closer however, you realise they’re all made of plywood and HP sauce and are of no help to you whatsoever. Except it’s nothing like that at all. It’s far more ridiculous than that.

Doubtlessly you'll get a flavour of what I mean as the weeks go on, and as we're on the cusp of planning a new show I'm sure the process will provide plenty of substenance. So here's to blogging; let's see what we come out with