Mad Old Bird in a Box.

Finally, the time had come to put ‘Edith, Elizabeth and I’ back in front of a real live audience; just thirty minutes, but a chance to try out some ideas and get feedback from friends and industry people. The ‘mild mannered receptionist’ and her director had taken a week off work, had rehearsal space, a large trunk, false nails, a variety of bizarre headdresses and a selection of home made props. But two days into the rehearsal, bad news arrived. After ten months of communication and negotiation, copyright issues were still up in the air, which unfortunately meant that the material couldn’t be shown publicly at the Nightingale Theatre and the ‘Scratch’had to be cancelled.

We had the good part of a week remaining, with nothing else planned. I had banished myself from daytime TV quite early on in my acting career- realising that too much ‘Neighbours’ and ‘Oprah’ (Jeremy Kyle these days) is worse then overdosing on cigarettes and coffee -so wallowing in self pity and brain cell destruction wasn’t an option. As far as I’m aware, dressing up, talking to yourself and fooling around have no sanctions, as long as you don’t do it publicly! All a girl and her director could do was to carry on exploring, playing and making a show (for future reference!)

 The lovely Ralf Higgins, our movement coach, came along to advise and generally be warm and wise. After seeing some of our work in progress he commented that if we had to change the title for copyright reasons- It should be called ‘Mad Old Bird in a Box’- a reference pointed more towards me then Edith. He was right. What the hell was I doing! 46, living off £27 for the week, no acting work since March and only three auditions since then, huddled in a trunk, wearing a green vintage cocktail dress, feather bower on my head, ready to pop out to an unsuspecting non existent audience, and working on a piece of theatre that presently can’t be shown to anyone anyway!

I made a pact with myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t work without being paid- but sometimes needs must. I believe in this project and you have to start from somewhere. And if you locked me in a dark cell (or a shady trunk!) I’d find a way to make a play or paint a mural (don’t think about it too much). I am a creative creature, I am never more at home then when I’m in a performance space, dressed up, telling stories, making theatre… and in the words of the Gershwins'- ‘They can’t take that a way from me.’ I think my story, Edith’s story, Edith’s stories of Elizabeth 1st and the story of how I tried to tell those stories, are all worth telling. It could take longer then we originally thought, the journey is already more complicated and it may cost (not just financially), more then we originally anticipated.

But if asked ‘is it really worth it?’ I would have to answer ‘Yes, I promise you. It’s worth it’’ and would add ‘this Mad Old Bird in a Box’ is not for turning’.

(Work to continue after Copyright Meeting on Oct 10^{th -} Watch this space)