Monday, 11 September 2017

Asking the universe

I spent most of yesterday lying on the sofa wondering why on earth I was feeling so profoundly wiped out. To begin with I thought it was the weather. It was wet and cold. But then, as I stumbled to the kitchen to switch the heating on, I realised I was ill. Proper ill. There's something going round. Nathan's been ill. My brother's been ill. My dad's had something which has the same set of somewhat grim symptoms. It's a sort of stomach virus thing. Not very nice.

Today was all about chipping away at a list of things to do which covers two A4 pages. For an example of the magnitude of my task ahead, one of the points on the list reads "learn music for Yom Kippur." There are 200 pages! There are also 200 pages of music for Kol Nidrei, which is another service at the synagogue I'm singing in. Then there's quiz mastering, prepping for the Em album recording, general admin and sorting material for the show choir. It seems a portfolio existence requires a fair amount of delicate balancing!

That's really all there is to say. I had a meeting this afternoon and enjoyed walking back to the tube through Soho. There was a thunder storm this evening with lots of lightning and we had pizza for tea whilst watching episodes of the X Factor from the weekend. That's it.

Actually, that's not quite it. Five days ago, I realised I had lost the silver elephant which I have worn around my neck every day for the past fifteen years. One day, when I'm not feeling so ropey, I will offer readers of this blog the full story. The elephant, which is called Little Great Alne, has a huge amount of significance for me because it provides me with a link to my mother, my Auntie Gill and both of my brothers. When I'm feeling low, or when I am telling people about the story of finding my brother, Tim, I often realise I'm holding or touching the elephant.

I have been really very upset about losing her (or him - Little Great Alne is gender fluid!) I have looked everywhere. I even started pulling the washing machine apart when Tanya was staying. Anyway, I finally told my mother today that I'd lost him and I could sense that she was really upset on my behalf. My mother is a great believer in the power of the universe, so I was hoping she'd throw a bit of energy out there which might encourage Little Great Alne to come home.

Two hours after the conversation, Nathan appeared in the sitting room, asked me to close my eyes and hold out my hand, and promptly placed a very familiar silver object in my palm. Little Great Alne was apparently on our bedroom floor in a hugely obviously place where it's almost inconceivable we wouldn't have looked over the past five days. Plainly she'd been on an adventure. I hope she's had a fabulous time, but I'm not sure I want her to go gallivanting again any time soon.

Perhaps there really is something in this idea of putting it out there to the world. Seek and ye shall find?

...And if the universe is in a listening mood, there's something I would desperately like it to help me with. I mist prefix this by saying I normally try not to jinx creative projects by announcing them before they're signed, sealed and delivered, but this one is languishing and needs a jolt forward...

For the past two years I have been in conversations with the remarkable author, Raymond Briggs about the idea of turning his chilling and deeply moving graphic novel, When the Wind Blows, into a musical. The novel tells the story of a retired couple, Hilda and Jim Bloggs, and a nuclear bomb. It's a story which holds deep significance for me. My mother was a keen CND activist and I directed the play version as a student, with actor Richard Coyle playing Jim.

To cut a two-year story short, Raymond himself wants me to create the musical version, a theatre has offered to commission and premiere the piece, both Raymond's agent and my agent are working tirelessly to try to make it happen but Penguin, who hold the rights to the book, don't seem to be able to give us the go ahead. And so we sit and we wait...

Meanwhile, the threat of nuclear war ricochets around the world. There has never been a more important time to revisit the show and I am devastated that we're being prevented from moving forward by what appears to be nothing but official paperwork. And I'm afraid I'm finally losing hope and this makes me incredibly sad.

So what do you say, universe? Will you offer me a much-needed helping hand?


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