planting your feet firmly

Planting your feet firmly was a family joke arising from a holiday when my parents and maternal grandmother (still with us, 98 this month) found themselves walking on a narrow path on the edge of a cliff in fading light. Grandma repeatedly gave this advice in the gathering darkness: 'take small steps and plant your feet firmly'.


Planting your feet firmly is what you do when you can't see where you are or where you're going.


I grew up in suburbia. Then I spent twenty years in cities being a teacher, a theatre-maker, for most intents and purposes a solo unit: Glasgow, Amsterdam, Lisbon, Madrid, Newcastle, Bristol, Leeds… Then in 2008 I fell back in love with my teenage sweetheart, moved back into (a different) suburbia, got married and had a baby.
Now who knows where I am.


I'm new to blogging and I'm using it to focus on some questions:

What is it like living in suburbia in the early twenty-first century?
How does an artist/theatre-maker make meaningful work in a conservative environment?
Is there a place for artistic experimentation in suburbia?
In this culture how does a solo artist hold her nerve, stay true to her ambitions?
How does she move forward?
Is it worth it?
What does it mean to be a wife, mother and an artist?
Which of these does suburban culture value the most?
How will these questions change?



Thought for the day:

As an artist...

A thought on quality:

Those who define quality in theatre as ‘I know it when I see it’ really haven’t experienced a performance which has surprised them for a very long time.

This is a tragedy.


As a mother...

As we perambulate along the pavement, there is a tendency to think we are preoccupied with nappy changing and feeding. We are part of the landscape, slow traffic, awkward. But when we get home we work with ingenious apprentices crafting whole new worlds out of cardboard boxes and string.