Craftsperson and instrument
I saw the London Philharmonic Orchestra the other night. Watching the pianist, I could see how the instrument was an extension of his emotional expression. The music ebbed and flowed both with the written structure of the piece and with the natural accents and nuances of his own emotional journey within it.
All the players were on similar journeys of using their instrument and the ‘text’ of the piece to express their unique telling to the musical story.
Zooming out, I saw a sea of artists, ebbing and flowing collectively and individually to form a rippling ocean of beautiful, emotional musical story telling.
Ai image prompt: make a painting “in the style of Seurat” that depicts a blue sparkling ocean made up of hundreds of musicians playing orchestra instruments passionately.
London calling
I’m in London and the atmosphere is incredible; vibrating with life. I’d never recognised it on previous trips. Today I get it.
A bike ride in the perfect spring sun.
Monster Jet lag.
What a day
Closing night
We just closed a ten week tour. What an amazing life I get to live
Immediately Obsessed
There is this arc that happens each day when I create my daily film.
Beforehand, if I have no clear idea- I’m about an inch from deciding ‘no more’. My brain is VERY good at reasoning why today is a good day to stop and that the whole project was pointless anyway. There’s no need to push through and make something today; it is more important to rest.
After I’ve fought those demons and manage to scrape together a beginning of a whisper of a something of an idea; I’m on the train, in the game, fanning the flame.
Then I make it! It’s not perfect, but it’s a thing! Suddenly I’m aligned again with all the reasons I’m doing this in the first place! I remember that it’s not about being perfect but it’s about gettin a ‘rep’ in, and here it is, my precious rep for that day!
And so I am immediately obsessed with this little thing that I made. I watch it over and over again and enjoy the little seams and details only the maker can see.
I love my little time capsules.
I often second guess whether to follow through.
But I tell you what, I always feel glad for having made something.
Just start
It seems like I learn this literally every single day. When I have no ideas or inspiration, the single best thing I can do is begin.
Frame up a shot
Start speaking some dialogue
Try a character’s mannerisms
Hum a melody
Hit record, go on.
Take a step in a direction. It’ll lead to something. And quite often something is better than nothing (like, most times)
ai prompt: a photo realistic picture of a big green ‘start button’ and a finger about to press it but it’s all made out of knitted wool- it’s a knitted sculpture with all the right colors
The bits that make you chuckle
It’s a good sign when there’s a section of something you made that cracks you up.
Or something you’re particularly proud of, the bit you want to watch back over and over. The bit you notice other people respond to as well.
That stuff is special- that’s the spark. Collect them, remember them, build on them.
Stitching
I think a creative endeavor is just a series of decisions and hunches stitched together.
The more I do this, the less belief I have in the ‘master plan’. I think you have an orientation, sure- an interest or some ideas about what it you’d like it to be.
But when you hit record or stand in front of the audience or put pen to paper, you’re working with what you have right then and there.
You make the best thing your energy and resources allow in that moment.
Then you stitch it together. And that’s okay.
Maybe just maybe you don’t need to know what the whole coat will look like when you start making it. Maybe just maybe it’s enough to put love, skill and a point of view into every stitch.
The sum of all those stitches yields the final thing.
Touch points
I’m thinking about the points in the show my character goes through in order to successfully and meaningfully tell the story.
You have to be present at each one and fight for the stakes whole heartedly to ensure the most pure journey for that soul.
As easy as it is, you mustn’t merely go through the motions.
You have to fight for the character at each turn, it’s the only way to chart their journey truthfully through the piece.
Tell the truth
It’s a mantra I often find myself repeating during the show. And it’s amazing how simply reminding myself of that can cut through when I’m saying a line literally for the three hundredth time.
To actually say the words you’re scripted to be saying.
To have it connected to the reality of the person I’m looking at in the audience.
To actually say the words with meaning and not let them rattle out just because that’s the next line.
Simply say the lines but tell the truth. You can feel the difference and you can see the difference in their eyes.
The reality of the play
I made note while back stage during the show tonight. It was suddenly so clear to me how, as actors, we have to associate with the reality of the play.
It seems so obvious now writing it down, but it was searingly clear to me.
The pain these character’s feel is real pain being felt by humans on this planet right now.
Real hearts have fought these battles before.
Real tears have shed in the turmoil of these situations.
Real people have felt unseen, helpless and alone.
It’s the actors responsibility to connect to the reality. Honour those souls and bring yours to the table every night.