Tuesday, 9 February 2016

Eyes closing

I always know when I'm too tired to work. There comes a point when the ears start playing tricks and, in my case at least, everything starts to sound really bassy and mushy. It happened to me for the first time whilst mixing Brass sometime during the all-nighter that PK and I did. I've just spent the last two hours thinning out an orchestration because every time I listened to it, it sounded more muffled.

My voice is giving up the ghost as well. It sounds all crusty and weird. Again, a product of sheer exhaustion!

It's midnight, and Nathan is slowly losing his mind in the kitchen. Unfortunately a music copyist hasn't been engaged on this show, so Nathan has stepped into the breach for no extra money. It's a massive task, particularly as he's not hugely au fait with my music software programme. Right now we, as writers, should have the head space to be able to make changes to the script and tiny alterations to the music. Sadly, we're sitting in rehearsals formatting music parts and creating tailor-made scores, whilst getting increasingly panicky and exhausted. I have to say, when I read in the press that we're responsible for the "lyrics only" on this show, I really want to hack a random hack to death with a tuning fork! There would appear to be a basic lack of understanding of music demonstrated by the way that a lot of people are talking about our role in this project. If anyone dares to suggest the orchestrations had anything at all to do with a computer I will set fire to my favourite teddy bear!

The sky was an extraordinary shade of pigeon grey this morning. The sun was out, so the whole thing seemed to be glowing somehow, like the sky had been touched up by an online editor. It's been very windy for the last few days. At lunchtime on Saturday, I was attacked by a giant cardboard box bouncing its way down the street. It hit me in the face. I laughed. It didn't hurt. But then I thought about my mate Nic who was hit in similar circumstances by a flying neon sign. She still has a scar, and was apparently lucky not to have been killed.

The local Gregg's to our rehearsal rooms has an "eat in" price for every item it sells, despite being the shop being the size of a postage stamp and not having so much as a seat or counter where one could theoretically sit down. What's that about? I assume it's a fast food tax thing?

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