Muses

Writing Girl in Suitcase ~~ & Soir a Toulouse Lautrec

A week to go before Girl in Suitcase comes to The Hampstead School of Art. I have rewritten quite a lot to keep it fresh. I know what needs to be junked or rewritten when I am trying to re-learn the lines. If a scene doesn’t feel right, I just don’t want to learn it. I have to get a kick out of each scene. There has to be some sort of continuity, though the show is fairly abstract, playing around with time, me shifting between 2 different characters, which sometimes could be and are the same person. That’s cool. They are Mother and daughter, and as you get older you start to realise, you are becoming your parents whether you like it or not!

The musicians will take on the whole score this time, no recorded music. So I had to get clearer about exactly which lines they were coming in on with which instruments. It’s not easy getting 5 pretty disparate people together to rehearse so time together is very precious. Learning how to think as a conductor or composer is a bit radical for me, being able to articulate what I want from them, but the art of working together is appreciated. It could just be me and my sound system (and at some point it might be) but sharing this process with others helps to get me out of my head!

The writing is something I usually do alone, though there are certain people who deeply inspire me. I take notes whilst in the company of my very good friend Szilvi. She knows me so well and has long been a creative partner of mine. There is this fire in her, I’m not sure if it’s because she’s a Leo or it’s the Hungarian in her, but she describes her pain or her excitement with such delicious colour. Some lines in the play are just plain Szilvi! I rock up at hers on the way home from work on a day when I’ve been totally blocked, and within minutes my notebook is out, trying to keep up with her dynamic spiel. I love that woman.

Then there’s Mum whom the play is actually largely about. That’s hard as feeling too emotional about the content inhibits my ability to engage with it or play with it. Hence Szilvi. Between the two of them I access most of the ideas. In the way that only someone who knows you deeply really can, Szilvi will tell me straight what I need to do. She’s not afraid of upsetting me and she has a fabulous instinct for drama. She doesn’t so much suggest an idea as perform it for me. Of course if she was available I’d invite her to perform, but we are not sharing that particular path for the time being.

My boyfriend Aaron listens to a lot of scenes and feeds back. He loves good writing, usually on television, or science fiction, and has an ear for what works or how I might adjust something.

I’m posting some pictures from a session I was modelling at this evening because I like them so much (they don’t really have anything to do with the show except they are life drawings with me in them!) I was asked to bring in black stockings and high heals. Well it was liberating. I’m quite a lazy girl in general on the girl front, I mean dressing up. Now and again I go for it, but being asked to wear heals, and not to walk in, just pose, was awesome! I could feel the temperature going up in the room! Stockings too, it all got a bit Toulouse Lautrec. Some very pretty artwork so that’s why I’m posting. I tell you, it’s a whole different set of muscles to negotiate in stilettoes, and they don’t get out of my bedroom enough. It felt a little erotic, though actually the poses are very similar to what I would normally do. Just adding some simple French brothel parafernalia makes all the difference. Loosened me right up, it was a nice gift just as the midsummer full moon approaches.

A New Man & a Kitten

It is said we attract the people we do in our lives for a reason; they are right for that time. Today I modelled for a gentleman, alone. It is a while since I modelled privately for an artist – most who seek models are men, and navigating the politics of what they really want, even if never expect to get, is bothersome.

A good life model friend of mine refers to this ‘gentleman’ artist as ‘improbably sexy’. What she means is he has exceptionally well defined features, is classically good looking, but very awkward with it. He hides himself and his work in an aura of uncertain dishevelment. When she heard I would model for him, she wanted me to find out his mystery; what lies beneath his stammering, unfinished sentences?

I was never worried about this appointment; he seems the opposite of the troubled bravado so apparent in several male artists seeking inspiration from their naked models. He may be awkward but he has a kind demeanour and is as considerate as the demanding constraints of his class allow, where I met him before.

Blackheath’s studio receives brilliant light in the morning, he says it reminds him of his first studio at art school in Edinburgh. Yes, how bright the light there. His usual reticence shrouds his easel, but without the sapping attentions of his class, he does open up, voluntarily. I am still a little sleepy and grateful to be lying down, but during breaks he asks of my education and origin. I hear of his family and the difficulty of choosing schools, if there is a choice.

I want to ask more about his work, but the fact of his moving the easel to face the wall every time I am up or he leaves the room does beg a softly softly approach. I cannot even see him as he works because he is stationed behind me. My guess is he is a very sensual, sensitive man who best attracts what he wants by being unassuming. As my friend says, normally men who are that good looking have a confident manner with women. But if this man was to display grand charm or seduce his class and models, they might not trust him so well. I might have made my excuses, and a showier muse may have taken him up.

I still trust him; he is one of the few with that ability to make me feel at ease when I am naked being myself. And there is an unsatisfied curiosity because he is not someone you get to know in a morning. It has been my wish to meet more of such men, so thank you world!

Here is another creature I recently attracted;

This little kitty refused to be turned away as I arrived home one day, so I let her come in to play. She toyed with drapery and nosed at mouse hide-outs, then slept peacefully till I had to put her out. I can’t imagine she isn’t loved by someone, but I hope she comes to visit again.