Well, word must have got out that I'd eaten all the treats because not one Hallowe'ener knocked at the door last night. This is, perhaps, a sign of how popular we truly are - we can't even attract an unwanted nuisance. Or maybe the low level lighting did the trick.
Much play-related research went on yesterday. The Arts Council cash is funding a project about British film mogul and former flour miller J Arthur Rank. I have no idea - save for a very sketchy few thoughts involving Rank, Dirk Bogarde and Diana Dors and Cockney rhyming slang - what the play will be, as yet, but I am building up a ridiculous collection of paperwork. As soon as the money lands I'm heading into the BFI's archives to read through lots of exciting production notes. I'm absolutely certain there's a drama in all this somewhere, I just have to find it.
Simultaneously, I'm also skirting around an idea about the sedentary, ladylike world of boxing. So, while watching Strictly Come Dancing: It Takes Two out of the corner of one eye, I'm watching blood-curdling violence with the other. I guess it's only a matter of time before I hang a meat carcass from the ceiling and start hitting it for inspiration. So, now you know what my life is currently revolving around. I just hope it all pays off in the end.
4 comments:
Not one Trick or Treater here either. I think that kind of thing only happens to Daily Mail readers and the like as such visits are brought on by having bad karma.
And a working doorbell, Stephen :)
The Rank project sounds pretty exciting, Dave. Cool x
So yesterday it's fighting fellow bloggers in a public place and today it's whacking a piece of meat in private. Can't wait for tomorrow.
I don't think I'm posting tomorrow, Basil. I'll be far too busy following in the footsteps and hip gyrations of The Observer's Jasper Gerard and attempting to have anal sex with the mummified remains of Leonid Brezhnev.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/story/0,,1934352,00.html
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