Nathan was in a secret location in Central London this morning, filming one of the special guests who'll be appearing in our film. He phoned me earlier on, sounding a little breathless, saying everything had gone incredibly well.
I walked through North Soho to get to Old Compton Street, and en route, passed a man who was sitting on a step, making a butty from a bag of chips and a stottie. The delicious aroma of vinegar almost smacked me in the face! What is it about the smell of vinegar which is both repulsive and remarkable? Maybe there's an enzyme in it which is triggered when it starts breaking down or preserving food which isn't triggered when, for example, you spill it on the carpet, or your favourite jumper, which is this vinegar addict's favourite trick!
I sat in Soho writing all afternoon. I love how cosmopolitan it gets in that part of town. I doubt there were more than two people of the same nationality in the cafe with me. That said, there was a rather amusing incident triggered by two European lads attempting to communicate in rather broken English. It was a simple enough transaction. One wanted to know if a chair was free so that his friend could join them. The other didn't have a clue what he was trying to say, and there was much gesturing and embarrassed laughter. When they'd finally established that the chair was indeed free, the first lad called over to his mate; "libero, libero..." cue an astonishing amount of laughter as both lads realised they were Italian!
Very good news arrived from the Arts Council today. They have decided to fund Brass. It's a humble amount, but the NYMT are thrilled. It might mean a few nicer costumes, or one or two extra bursaries for the kids, which is just marvellous.
I have made a vow to Sara K that I will do everything humanly possible to make sure the cast of Brass have the summer of their lives. I think back to the time when I was their age, and we were performing Big Book for Girls on the Edinburgh Fringe with the National Student Theatre Company. It was perhaps the most exciting, optimistic, carefree period of my life, and I want the young people in our show to have the same experience.
As I hurtle towards forty, I'm beginning to realise what an epic year this is turning out to be. Perhaps a mini break-through is finally on the cards. Wouldn't that be lovely?
Off now to see Sara Kestelman in a dance drama at the Print Room in Notting Hill. An evening off would you believe?! Whatever next?!