It was the day before the sharing. There was a shift from just being in the process (to play and push ideas) to now thinking about the product at the end, a small sharing. It was the day when my dream masterpiece seemed quite far from the fragments of performance that I had to work with. It was a good job that Rachel was around, because in a fortnight of being around so many people, conversations and activities, I needed someone to stick with me, and see it through. That’s one of the things I’ve learnt from this two weeks. The need for continuity through a process. Perhaps that is less important at this research phase, which has been about experimentation, but the only constant in this piece has been me. I think in the later stage of development leading up to the show, I would need to work with less people for longer periods.

We pieced together half of the sharing. I felt a conflict between wanting to show ‘arty things’, like blank slides and made up memories  and English subtitles; and ‘honest things’, like chatting and eating crisps. But the arty things had started to feel out of place. Maybe because they weren’t ready yet, and maybe because I only wanted them there in an attempt to prove I’m ‘good’. Rachel really came into her own here, and said we want to see your truth, be honest. A very kind and questioning pair of outside eyes, that I couldn’t have done without. We called it a day because I was going pale with the pressure of it all.

I felt very uncertain. But whilst losing my mind that evening in Asda buying cava, I thought this is precisely why I’m making the show: because I feel very uncertain in the world. I can’t share a perfect, certain thing. I want you to be with me whilst I falter, flutter, fall, fail, find. Because I think we all do that sometimes. I don’t want perfect, I can’t give you perfect.

Another good thing was a phone call to Fergus Evans, who is helping me with production, and said whilst you have so many brilliant people in a room experiencing your work (which is what you’ve always wanted, right?) TAKE RISKS! It’s the perfect bed for these things to happen. It’s a sharing, not a show.

So I did my roots, had a small bottle of cava (I can’t place whether those miniature bottles of wine are either very thrifty or a real treat) and read over my notes from the entire fortnight (that’s a lot of index cards and A3 sugar paper scrawlings). I thought, in my tipsy-night-before brain: be a canary down the mine of humanness, and come out alive Lowri!