Being on my own in my own space, talking to myself in my own space. These things are fine. Here? It's is different. It's difficult. But then it was supposed to be. Isn't that the point?
Even just playing ball. Everytime the ball hits the floor it gets dirtier so everytime I catch it my hands get dirtier. This bothers me more than I would like. When I was a kid I would be doing this in my Grandma's back yard, the side of Dad's house, the back of my Mum's best friend's house, the street, at school - not a recently cleaned studio. So what's wrong with getting a bit mucky? All the best things in life involve a little bit of mess. I am not a neat freak. I can do this.
Hang on a sec, must just go wash my hands again...
After having scoured all of Leeds City Centre for a bouncy ball I found this on the morning of rehearsal in the newsagents over the road as suggested by my housemate. It was the only one they had. Clearly faded with time. And the perfect size.
ReplyDeleteI love it when a plan comes together!