Scared

Today started with a Brass production meeting in Pimlico. It was so inspiring to be with the whole team, all of whom have their own specialities which will be used to breathe life into my show. We were shown the model box of the set - very exciting - and various costume and lighting designs. The room was, as ever on Brass, full of people called Ben. Little Ben, the MD, was creating vocal scores to my right, Sara, the director, was talking us through various practicalities and I suddenly thought "gosh, this is really happening..." I can't urge people enough to check the work we're creating...

It runs from August 20th to August 23rd at the Leeds City Varieties theatre with additional matinee performances on the Friday and Saturday. The last night has very nearly sold out, so booking a ticket is imperative.

Just as I typed that last sentence I made the hugely rookie error of getting on the wrong blinking tube train at Stockwell Station. I realised just as the train doors closed and made me late for my osteopath apointmenr. It turns out it's almost impossible to change from the Victoria line to the Northern line at Stockwell Station if one is changing from southbound to northbound trains. I blinkin' hate the south of London. It's so badly conceived.

I sat next to the most irritating bloke on the tube. He plonked himself down next to me and I could immediately smell the alcohol seeping out of his pores. He fell asleep for a while but then I could feel him staring over my shoulder at the manuscript on my computer screen. I think the game was obviously for me to see him looking and immediately engage him in conversation. But I was busy. I didn't want to make small talk to a stranger.

And so the peering became increasingly obvious. First he invaded my body space and then he stuck his head right inside my lap top and tapped his finger on the screen; "what does that mean?" he asked. It was impossible to ignore him. "It's music" I said. He then gasped like I was an imbecile. "Well I know that, don't I! But what does that line mean?" He put his grubby fingers on the screen again and pointed at a tie. I wanted to yell "listen, mate, if you don't know what a tie is, then we could be here for a long time whilst I explain to you the basic principles of music!" I mumbled an answer about it making a note longer, but was fairly horrified that he had not understood that I wasn't up for a chat, and that I simply wanted to get on with my work. Some people just don't know how to read body language do they?

The rest of the day, and most of the night has been spent working on a song called Scared from Brass. It's nearly 3am and I've only just delivered it. This is no life. I can't wait to finish!