Last night I sat on the sofa discussing the topic of Play and Playfulness in Performance, on how to create a group-dynamic and whether a group facilitator could blend back into a group. (Yes pretentious perhaps but hey sometimes I think I should remind myself I do actually have a post-grad in something I was once so passionate about that I emigrated to pursue it.)
I used words that I hadn’t for a long time, thought about situations that seemed a distant memory and discovered I still enjoyed the discussion. It seemed normal, even though my own practice is very rusty the conversation flowed and I was confident about every point covered.
There was no wine involved, just some food and food for thought. I went to bed very happy.
This morning as I was walking to station through the rain, I started thinking about the joys of being sardined into the carriages on a twice daily basis, about feeling continuously challenged to perform the usual mini-miracles on demand. About where I wanted to go with my life, where I wanted to be and even more pressing as I approached the sign for the Tube: whether London is my answer…
To Be Continued.