Theatre of the Absurd
I am ready to go- six hours early. Actually I was ready by ten thirty – eight hours early. I am now waiting for Annabel to escape from work so we can head to Colchester. I have done a little run through, Mr Pig seemed to enjoy it. All in all I think I will be only talking for 6 minutes and then showing my film. I should feel relief, instead it has made me start to worry more about next weeks debacle in Peckham . I have looked at the adverts “Both Alex Pearl and Aliceson Carter will be presenting at the third Artists talking event.” *swallows bile*. These *s are from twitter, I haven’t quite got the hang of them yet, they seem to indicate what you want your reader to think you are doing while you write. They are often used either to reinforce or undermine something you have just said or just to add shorthand descriptive colour. Often (and quite obviously) they are not true, merely a bit of useful/less hyperbole which turns twitter into a sort of theatrical act. *cleans glasses and redirects telescope into next door’s bathroom window*
I think I may have overdone it for the talk this evening. I am not a performance artist, yet I have bought a suit, a sure sign of the “artist as performer” if ever I have seen one. It is a nice suit from the sixties and delivered via eBay from Wales by a lovely Croation woman. It is Chinese. I hoped it might give me an air of confidence but I just look like a nervous person wearing a suit for the first time in twenty+ years. Actually this was probably my original intention. To undermine myself to such a degree that whatever happens it looks preplanned. *smiles confidently*
The lovely Julie Freeman has promised to “do something spectacular” if I freeze, so I may throw in some long pauses to test her nerve.
Mr Pig is growling at a jay and a robin then running to her litter tray.
She eats only from the right hand bowl.
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