Obligatory Summary Bullet-Points

My posts are too long, normally. I think. So this time it's bullet-points. So there :P 

Apologies in advance to the friend who has done the same in her blog. I started this in Doha Airport before I even read yours - honest guv!

This year I have:

*Started performing a Solo Streetshow

*Been skiing in Slovakia and on a boozy jolly to Berlin

*Tried Flowboarding, Chinese Pole, Buungeng and the Dulcimer

*Moved house

*Done my first mini-season of tenting

*Bought 2 marquees

*Taught my first workshops and gigged my first theme park

*Been on TV 3 times
*Driven halfway across Europe in a 30 year-old Motorhome
*Spun my staff covered head to toe in mud

*Been on 10 Aeroplanes in 6 more countries (fuck me...that's a carbon footprint!)

*Seen 4 weddings, 2 funerals, one stag party and one beautiful new baby

*Missed 2 weddings and one stag party 

*Not seen snow. Yet.

*Designed a website (and failed to finish it without help!)

*Made some amazing new friends and seen some old ones for the first time in years

*Been very pleased at how little my departure from London has affected most of my relationships there

*Been kinda disappointed at the way it has affected a couple of them

*Been happy

*Been sad

*Been incredibly lonely at times

*Been moderately successful at times and definitely

*Sucked massively at others

*Got muddy

*Got sunburnt

*Got injured

*Got better (almost)

*Got into (and out of) debt and, most importantly, 

*Learnt lots of stuff. I think.

I'm a lucky boy. Or I'm an idiot, it'll all fail miserably and I should do something sensible with my life soon. 

Fortunately, it's impossible to tell so I can't expect myself to know any better at this stage. Or something.

Happy New Year to all. May it bring you Love, Happiness, and the ability to see the Woods for the Trees. 

xxx

Been a bit of a week - Part 3of3

Here's another interesting thing that came up in the past week - remember when I was talking earlier about my whole pre-going-to-the-party state of mind and not necessarily feeling in the most confident place a week previously? Take that and add 5 days of seeing nothing but the living room walls. And my housemate of course, but to be honest, I'm fairly certain that she's desensitised to my undulating wierdness. By the time Thursday arrived I was about mobile enough to go out again. We were off to see a show some friends were putting on at the WMC in Cardiff.

The interesting thing is that I genuinely felt anxious about this. I am not it would seem, someone who does well with being away from human beings for extended periods of time. I got a glimpse of what it must be like to be someone who just gets anxious about stuff. I don't really - I get upset, or angry, or confused and loads of other stuff but nervousness (especially the social version) isn't generally something I have to deal with. Xanax is an anti-anxiety drug. And it's nice. So I thought, "Yeah, that'll be a handy little parachute back into the real world. Job Done."

Mostly though, I just felt a little bit like I was failing at a job interview all night. I have no idea what it was like from the outside, it probably wasn't even that noticeable but from the inside it felt like a 16-car pile-up of awkward conversations and me mostly saying the wrong thing and giggling a lot. Plus the inevitable constant drawing attention to the fact that I was being wierd by apologising for being wierd and intense and attempting to explain the reasons why I was being wierd and intense. Nicely done. I can almost see my father reading this and wishing that at some point in my life he'd managed to teach me the one lesson I've apparently flatly refused to learn; When to shut the fuck up. Fortunately currently, reading this is optional to you, my audience. But imagine if it wasn't? AM I BEING INTENSE?! AM I!? I'm cringing just writing it. And that takes a lot.

The social situation on Friday was a bit more manageable - seeing a band at a local pub. It was noisy and stuff was going on so conversation not so much required. As soon as the band finished and we were in the garden though, it was all back. The Xanax didn't help then either. I can see in retrospect that (and this is where it gets to the potentially-useful-information stage) actually, what they were doing was numbing my emotional intelligence and communication skills. Rather than calming me down they were making me less in control and therefore reversing the process. 

Funnily enough, Ritolin is an upper, bascially, and you give that to people with ADD. I guess it's the same logic - a drug is designed to work on a specific part of the brain of a specific type of person for a specific reason. It's like these scientists know what they're doing or something, huh? I didn't really think about that at the time though, as I said, it's not an unpleasant feeling....Saturday was a smaller social thing again. We had a few people over to the house. My leg wasn't really up for a firework display and there was plenty of wine so I only took a few later on to help me sleep. I haven't gone to sleep sober in a LONG time as I am now, writing at 5am, acutely aware of.

All seemed fine though and, upon going to bed I figured that'd be the end of my little relaxation period until I woke up Sunday morning and my liver hurt like fuck. A bit of googling reminded me that the liver, whilst we all know as being the filter for booze, is also made to work really hard by Benzodiazapams. Although this could be a side-effect of another injury I recently sustained - bruised intercostal muscles which are right in front of my liver. Can you bruise your liver? Answers on a postcard...I did take a bit of a knock.

So essentially, I've potentially pushed it too far, I'm off the booze, the caffiene and everything else. And I can't fucking sleep. Shouldn't take more than a few days to clear through I'd imagine but my stars, it’s been a bit of a week with one thing and another. I honestly feel like I've been emotionally and physically put in the hot cycle of a tumble drier for about 2 hours. Mostly internally too. I nearly even wrote a new song...it's nice having my piano back :) 

So yeah, that's about it for the trilogy. A few different things have come up in this particular episode(s) and one way or another, they all link together. That's why I've talked about them. We all fight the work/life balance battle every day, some are better at it than others. People work too hard, people get lonely and people sometimes need help. If you need it, ask for it, you probably have more access to it than you think. For me, the life-gaps aren't completely full (I mean, are they ever? Is it ever perfect? Probably not) but the important thing to remember is, you can't fill them with anything that comes in a blister pack or a bottle. 

I'm certain that as a nation, we don't talk about this stuff enough and if it makes me look like a sketchy waster to say it all about myself on the internet then so be it. Those who know me I hope, will assume that I'm not trying to be wacky and cool, writing this has actually been quite hard and pressing the 'send' button even harder. So why do I do it? I'm just keeping my promise to myself and being honest on my blog about my experiences. Reading is, as ever, optional. I welcome feedback too - and that's the other reason for writing this....If people read it, great. If they enjoy it, even better but if by chance anyone gets a shred of useful information or comfort out of it? That's amazing and worth every word.

As ever, to all those who deserve them, many thanks. And apologies. Except to the person who 'accidentally' took my coat and then returned it 3 days later when I'd obviously considered it gone and sorted a new phone etc..etc.... Thanks for doing the honest thing and returning it, eventually. It's a nice coat. But you are a fucking idiot.

Today, as I post this, I'm feeling pretty good. I've just had a smoothie and I'm getting stuff sorted for whever I finally leave for UAE. Just to prove it, here's a picture of me grinning like a crazed twat.

T'ra for now! xxx

Been a bit of a week - Part 2of3

So, at the very solid yet compassionate advice of one of the few people in the world who can talk sense into me when I'm suggesting stupid stuff (like overnight gigs in London the week before I potentially fly off to the UAE for 6 weeks) I resolved to take it easy for a bit. Which I'm now doing until I leave.

This didn't end up happening initially however. I wasn't really in the mood for seeing people that night despite the very comforting phonecall but I sent a few text messages to see what was happening and went out to a house party. My leg started hurting so I tried to leave only to discover that some fucktard had taken my coat with the keys to my Housemate's car, and my phone, in the pocket. My bag and keys were in the car. 

Cue trying to find my phone on Google Latitude via a laptop, waiting for all of the increasingly-drunken people to leave so I could look for the coat properly and still not finding it. My housemate was away so I had to wake a friend around the corner up at 4.30am, get keys to into my house, get into my van, go back and put a lock on the wheel of the car until I could find out from my housemate where the spare key was (in case someone decided to help themselves to the car - as has been known) and THEN get to bed. I'd tried to leave the party at about midnight and got to bed about 5.30 in the end. my leg HURT.

The next day was not good. I couldn't even walk. If my leg was elevated it was fine but the process of standing up and walking up the stairs to go to the loo resulted in the kind of pain that gives involuntary screams. None of this malarkey where you know you'd probably be a bit quieter if there was someone in the house but  top-of-the-voice yells. We have new neighbours. We haven't met them properly yet. That'll be fun. My housemate arrived home the next afternoon and my leg looked like this

It was remarked on by a knowledgable friend on Facebook that it could be fractured so I and my ever-forgiving-and-caring housemate went off to A&E on the Sunday to get it xrayed, fortunately it's just bruised and is now healing nicely. Woo. That was over a week ago and therein began the other thing this blog is about. Chemicals. The ones that make you sit down and make things not hurt - not the ones that make you dance around like a sweaty moron and think that everyone in the room is wearing glasses.
As a performer, it's easy to spot the patterns that can so easily develop with relation to booze and drugs. Or, even, the concept of escapism and celebration. It would be VERY easy to become habitually dependent quickly. Have a good show? Time for a celebratory drink. Have a shit one? Time for a consolatory drink. No boss to tell you off in the morning, fuck it, if you really can't be arsed, just don't go to work. I'm definitely not judging.

I drink a bit daily. I'll have a couple of beers or, usually, a couple of glasses of wine. I don't actually think that's particularly unusual but I also think I probably drink a little too much. Sometimes, if neither of us are working the next day, it'll be a 2-bottle-of-wine night in my house. Again, not the end of the world and in fairness to my housemate, I do drink about a third quicker than her. I have therefore, been looking forward to giving my liver a rest and jetting off to the United Arab Emirates where the attitude to alcohol is something slightly different. Bonus detox. I managed a week at Eden but that was only because I was so fucking hungover driving down there from a night out in Bristol that even the thought of stopping off to buy a 2-week supply of booze filled me with nausea. Of course, by the time the final-show party arrived I'd have punched an old lady in the face if it meant I could steal her Gin and Tonic. Fortunately, there was plenty of Rum. It wasn't easy. Unexpectedly such. And that's when you have to have a serious think about your relationship with whatever chemical it happens to be.

Overall, I'm definitely a fan of stuff that makes me sit down and just.....stop. Which I find difficult. Booze does it very well - my brain can rest and also, as I've recently discovered, subsequently sleep. Getting to sleep stone-cold sober the past few nights has been a pain in the arse. I'm not a smoker so getting stoned isn't really on the agenda for chilling out if I want to be able to breathe the next day. But by now I know well and good what will not only stop stuff hurting (and it did fucking hurt, believe me) but will bring a nice fuzzy cloud over the rest of my evening. 

The Hospital gave me (after some persuasion) a couple of really strong coedine tablets and by the time I got home I was feeling considerably better about the whole thing. Now, over-the-counter coedine isn't that strong. It's mixed with high doses of paracetamol because it's addictive. The problem with this is, in fact, it's got so much paracetamol in it that to get anywhere near enough to take the edge off the pain I was in would involve me taking so much paracetamol that I would probably start foaming at the mouth. So I just didn't bother. What I did have though, were some Ibuprofen (for the anti-inflammatory purpose) and some Benzodiazapams. 

I had a week on the sofa ahead of me - what was I supposed to do? I'm not going to lie, I took a few Vallium. For the pain, Right?

Good. Long as we understand each other. More in Part 3 tomorrow....  

Been a bit of a week - Part 1of3

Post 1 of 3. Split in an effort to make it actually more readable and interesting!

OK, let me get this out of the way - this might not be one of the fun ones. Sounds a little bit like an introduction to an episode of "When Blind Dates Go Wrong" or some scraping-the-barrel reality TV show doesn't it? What I really mean however, is that when I first started this blog all those many moons ago it was on the internal premise that I outlined the rough with the smooth. I Blog my career because I think people might find it interesting and that of course, doesn't always mean 'nice.' I'm writing this at 4am on the sofa because I can't sleep and I know that the reason I can't sleep is related to many things - emotional, circumstantial and chemical. But more on that in a bit.

One cool thing did happen recently. I was interviewed by the lovely guys at The Busking Project about what's happening to the SPA in London. Check out their website if you havent already. They're great.

So anyway, what's been happening? Well I recently returned from Argentina where I was doing something that I can't quite tell you all about yet but soon enough I'll be bragging left right and centre so it's not a great loss at this stage, trust me. On said trip I got injured. I bashed up my leg, bruised my ribs and have now also apparently damaged my wrist in some way. All a bit annoying. I came back into the Country feeling rather sorry for myself and, as often happens when one is plunged into a situation with a new group of people, I did a lot of self analysis. The Streetperforming section of my career often leads to this and I've spoken about it before I know. Lets just say this time round I came back feeling acutely aware of gaps in my life that aren't currently full. 

I started to realise that I don't get that much actual feedback from life. By 'feedback' I mean there's no centralised area of my life that knows about all of the rest of my life. Some people get this from family, relationship, job, whatever. I however, live in two cities, I'm single, I don't live at home and I have lots of different career stuff happening simultaneously. Recently it's just begun to feel a bit disparate and lonely. I've spoken to many people (both performers and not) about this and everyone has their own mechanism(s) for dealing with or failing to deal with it. I'm not sure what mine are yet, I'm not equipped to deal with it though I don't think. I posted a while ago about confidence and this is linked in some way I guess but the best way to explain it would be thus; The lonely person is used to being lonely. I dont have the coping mechanisms yet so I'm at a bit of a loss. It's not a tremendously serious problem (I mean, this whole blog thing is all about over-self-analysis, right?) and it does, also, lead on to the rest of this post quite nicely so I'll leave it as a subject for now and continue onwards....

Some weeks ago, when I described my emotional experiences at the Eden Project (namely hearing of the passing of my dear friend Shelly) another very good friend pointed out to me that I had been an idiot. She was right. I didn't follow the advice I'd have given to myself in that situation - at any point I could have picked up the phone and heard the sound of a familiar and friendly voice. Not only that, but the voice of someone who knew me well enough to know what to say to me to make me feel better and not like I was on my own in my van in a field. Once again, it's prudent at this point to state that the Circus people and, indeed, my friends in Cardiff are fucking awesome but the network of people I was/am part of in London is a group I've essentially done my growing up with. You can't recreate that very easily, as I am continually discovering. I'm sure I can't be the only person who moves to a new place and feels like that, In fact, I've spoken to others. It's just the way it is with familiarity. But I digress....

What's interesting, is how difficult it actually IS to make that phonecall. We don't just talk about it do we? When we give/are given advice or comfort it's almost always because it comes up in conversation, not because the conversation has been instigated for that reason. At least partially someone might lead a conversation some way if they conciously or subconcisouly need help but to actually put up the flag directly is a very hard thing to do at least for me. Maybe other people are better at it because they're more in touch with when they need to actually take that step. 

I get very little time just chewing the fat and talking bollocks with the people who know me best these days so I'm having to get a bit more efficient at talking about the proper stuff when I do see them. I guess one of the main reasons I'm talking about it now is that I'm not ashamed of it, and neither should anyone else be. Talking about stuff is good and actually, so is a bit of vulnerability as a learning experience.

So back to last week -  I'm out of my comfort zone again, feeling a bit undecided and foetal again and I think it's about time I learnt my fucking lesson, practiced what I preach (I'm FOREVER telling people they're silly for not picking up the phone or asking for help if they're upset) and make the phonecall. So I did, and it really helped. The person I spoke to (at?) didn't have any magic solutions to anything (in fact we disagree fundamentally - she thinks I just want a girlfriend) but it felt really really good to have a) made the call and b) just had a sounding board for the mess that was souping (I like that as a verb - I might keep it) around in my head. 

The upshot of all of this was that I needed to rest my bashed up leg and relax a bit for the still-apparently-happening Abu Dhabi trip. I wasn't healed and I was freaking out about having to do too much stuff. I'd had a day or two on the sofabed and figured it was about time to get back into doing things but I took my friend's advice, cancelled some upcoming work I had (which I can tell you, is NOT something I do) and resolved to chill out for at least a week or so. 

How did I get on? Find out tomorrow......

Confidence is a preference - The parallels of life and Street

Confidence is so perpetual. Some of it leads to more of it, less of it leads to none of it. The latter process is, unfortunately, much more swift. That is to say, it wanes far easier and more quickly than it waxes. Getting any form of confidence back on the Street after a horrible West Piazza show some months ago took a very long time and actually, having had a couple of weeks off on holiday to think things through, I'm still really positive about what lies ahead. I'll be back working the West on weekdays on my return to the UK and I'll hopefully be doing proper shows for proper money this summer. The tent thing with Gary remains to be seen but again, is looking hopeful too. Things are good. Rest assured though, I could easily do the same again and I make no mistake of that. For me now, Street confidence is really quite ephemeral and it's everything I can do to hold onto it and try not to let the bad shows affect me. I'm sure when I get home I'll end up doing a couple of shockers and feel the kick in the teeth again while I get my rhythm back. Standard stuff. But hopefully this time, I'll be able to hold onto what I built up before I went away and the bad bit wont hurt too much or last too long.

Confidence is weird too. It's something I write about in this blog a lot and it's very much relevant to my journey into/through the Entertainment industry but in life, it acts the same sodding way. In life, my self-confidence is lower that it's been in a *really* long time. It's not something I've normally had problems with - I was given a decent level of self-esteem by my upbringing and ability to mostly succeed at stuff I put my mind to, no catholic guilt or major self-image issues and no real reason for the change in mindset other than the beginning of the change leading to more of it happening. It's perpetuality, in other words.

I've been single for a while now, since August actually and there haven't been any meetings (for want of a better word) of a romantic nature since then. This may or may not be the reason but, like everyone, I get a bit strange when it goes on for that long. I've never been particularly good at talking to people I fancy but at this stage of the process I completely forget. I say stupid, inappropriate and unfunny things. I make myself cringe because I try too hard. I start to ask myself horrible questions like "Why him and not me?" and "Why couldn't I be a bit more, yknow, mainstream?" A few of you will get what I mean by this - if you don't, the meaning is pretty obvious. Take it as read. 

At nearly 28 I should really be over this by now I think and I apologize if you are one of the unfortunate people I have recently hit on. But it's far from the end of the world, my life is pretty much the opposite of relationship-suitable at the moment and my views on them are far from regular or popular. This doesn't bother me really but it's true.

Friendships too, are in a similar boat. I've been let down badly by a few people in the past 6 months. Really badly. In ways that someone who normally judges characters well and takes a long time to trust people normally doesn't have to endure. This makes me question other friendships too. I try to meet it positively (as in, if I wanna see someone, see them) or neutrally (as in, just don't think about it - be normal for fucks sake!) but it doesn't really work. I question things, needlessly feel guilty and a bit worthless and if something nice happens, I manage to find the complete opposite reaction to it in my head. 

Being away from my friends doesn't help. No-one can be expected to keep someone in mind for ever when they're not really around. And I'm not. I kinda feel now like it's only a matter of time before I go back to London and only have a few places to go. There are some people I know I'll never lose but y'know what? I've "known" that before. It's a matter of trust I guess, and mine's been shaken. I just have to do my best to not let it fuck up all of the other friendships that I *don't* have a reason to doubt. If I start that, I *will* fuck them up just by being different with them. Probably ridiculous, but definitely again, very perpetual. It's a loop to be broken and at some point it will. I think.

So, in short, feeling good about my show confidence and persona but feeling pretty darn rubbish about myself other than that. The two worlds perpetuate themselves, it would seem, but not each other. They don't parallel. Or do they? One theory would be, am I now at the stage where I need to do shows to feel good about myself off stage? It has helped in the past, I guess we'll find out in the next few days and I'll be sure to let you know. This time away, during which I've (as usual) done far too much thinking has led to another sharp decline in how I feel about me so maybe I just need to do more shows. I know there are plenty of performers out there who rely on their stage time for their life confidence but I'm not sure I fancy that really. If it becomes the case, I'll likely take steps to change it. 

Yet another fact is that the sensitivity I've learnt through doing lots of performing and being in a double-act especially is responsible for a large portion of this. I now care so much more about what people think of me and I analyse the reasons to the nth degree. So yeah, as usual, see what happens, innit? I'm gonna be landing in Berlin soon so I should probably stop. I've had a lovely time in Slovakia with my amazing Sister and I'm seeing friends for a stag party this weekend. So that's nice. 

Next week is half term where I find out what 2 weeks away does to your show when you've just started writing it. Woo. Hoo.

Wow, that was a self-indulgent one. Apologies for that ;) I really do believe though, that I should put the difficult bits in this too. Otherwise it's not a real blog, is it?