thames 12 June 2008
Met up with some friends tonight including my lovely painter sis in law, Rebecca, and a mutual friend, John (brilliant musician and resident of Stockwell) – yep, went southside to deal with the melancholy of the job finishing. We got to talking about some great and interesting things that come with the creative world. For instance, I am not interested in perfection. I don’t trust it. I love to see excellence, yes, but surely the moment of genius is that flaw that makes a thing totally individual? I love the shiver of doubt, I guess. John tells me there is an oriental expression of this called wabi sabi, which is the appreciation of the imperfect – sign me up.
He will be presenting the very sound of the Thames river on Saturday week. Himself and some other musicians, with the aid of engineers who will sink listening devices, are going to interpret the river’s movements for 6 hours. It’s called ‘Floodtide’ and will be at Trinity Buoy Wharf – free event. There’ll be various instruments involved, including a vibraphone (which he kindly allowing me to call a profound zylophone)
I look forward to being a groupie for other rivers in the world – think the Nile, the Hudson, the Yangstze, the Amazon, the Seine, the Rhone…and on and on…sorted for travel forever more.
yes, i have noticed 12 June 2008
Yes, yes, I have noticed that there was a gapette between the last blog and this – I shall offer a last day of filming which started and finished late as mitigation. I did attempt to do a mental meander late last night but the internet connection started to rebel and I reckoned by the time I had that sorted I would be jotting down the ramblings of a somewhat insane person. Interestingly, the actor who has just played my husband (Connor Byrne – veh veh good and can be forgiven the crazed double n thing going on in his name as it’s a family thing…he says…) is of the opinion that my Inner Idiot is out without it’s lid quite a lot of the time so presumably that’s who would have done the blog at the ungodly hour I attempted it. He knows what he’s talking about as he has a very prominent one too although, clever lad that he is, he has a lid that he can lay hands on when needed to keep the aforementioned Idiot under wraps, whereas mine seems to have been mislaid in some or other move. The Inner Idiot is a sweet creature who just wants to have fun and laugh a lot and is unafraid of making a tit of itself (herself in my case) to achieve this. As it happens, the II is useful when in a foreign country as that’s often a time when mime and pratfall will get you the directions to the museum. However, it is best to have some sort of control over it/her. Letting the II out and about can be misinterpreted. I know some types who think I am a bit of an eejit because I appear a flipperdeegibbet some of the time but I would caution against underestimation and anyway I think that’s more their problem than mine. The only thing I am trying to learn is not to bring the wrong energy to a situation. This is mostly a work issue. I meet a lot of people in this eternal looking-for-a-job loop that actors are in and sometimes if there is a vacuum in a room I fill it – I may have done a good and still and calm reading for a part and be right in there in the running for it and then, in a pause, reveal a chattier Pauline at which point (sometimes, not always) people think ‘wrong energy’. End result is no part. I’m not blaming the Inner Idiot for this as she doesn’t usually come along for auditions (she hates them – tension is not her thing) but it is a parallel trait I think and one to be watched. Again, a lid would be handy. I might ask Connor to knock me up a temporary one while I continue the search for mine.
As to the end of another great and totally enjoyable and absorbing job, I am yet again heartbroken to have left so many new and wonderful people. It would be a privilege to be seeing and working with them everyday till the end of time.
where 10 June 2008
We never know where we are. Yes, you can master geographical accuracy – nice if you have got that kind of mind, and damn you if you have that total ability (mine is limited and easily pleased = oh look there’s the bathroom, oh look this is my stop, oh look there’s the shop better get some cat food, etc). Sometimes you’ll need a map (that goes for lots of life, geography or no, and those maps may not always be totally helpful because seismic shifts happen in the strangest ways) and some buy a sat-nav system – there is one used by the drivers on the film and she’s quite strict – hates being contradicted and say’s ‘recalculating’ in a really cross, pissed-off voice.
To make a long story less long, I have discovered a lad on set who is from an amazing family – and he too, I am glad to report, is a gem – he is of the Polish clan Zarnecki. His Dad is a Space Scientist (I know, I can hardly continue because how many times in a life are you going to be able to say that?) who worked on systems that went into the Hubble telescope, the Giotto visit to the tail of Halley’s Comet and the landing on Titan, Saturn’s largest moon. He ‘does’ information retrieval of the most specific kind (yep, I think I can claim that as ‘tis outer space o’ which I talk…)
Our lad’s uncle is a major specialist in all things Chinese at the British Library.
His Grandad is an expert in Romanesque architecture and was captured and escaped twice during the 2nd World War – on one occasion while being marched around Caen Cathedral he asked the German warders if they might do it in the opposite direction so he could see the sculptures he’d dreamed of, but had never experienced, and they thought he was being a wise ass and were extra awful to him – he really did just want to see the carvings…
Seems to me that in the 18th and 19th centuries these guys were the explorers of the world…and I have a direct line driving me most days…tomorrow could be the edge of it all, my sweets, as there is no longer a final frontier…I know where I am, nearly.
images 9 June 2008
To add to the image of our crew member abandoned outside a London hospital on a trolley he tells me he had a smoke too while he was there…all a very unhealthy image.
My adventures in the Russian language continue and it’s interesting to see the things that a) stick and b) lead to other discoveries.
For instance, I found out, via Himself, that there is no ‘th’ in Russian, it’s an ‘eff’ sound instead, so the stuff of myth is the stuff of miff and Jesus was born in beflehem – which is all very cockney, I think.
The Russian for friend is drug – I can’t do cyrillic so this is probably not TRULY accurate…but close…so a pal can be a ‘drug’ (pronounced dhrug which is quite Irish) and I guess it gives truth to the song title Love is The Drug…
When I told a mate on the set this they said ‘gift’ is the German for poison…the things you learn
hospital 8 June 2008
We filmed in a lovely hospital in north west London yesterday but as it was a working hospital I really felt sorry for any of the patients who wandered into our ‘world’. They stumbled upon takes of arguing and raised voices, though it seemed a very calm institution other than for us. One of the crew made a special appearance as a patients on a trolley, complete with a gash on his head. After a few takes he was abandoned outside on the tarmac and took the opportunity to remain lying down and have a wee rest. As he looked entirely plausible I imagine some people may have thought he was ‘for real’ and are even now banging on about the state of the NHS…ooops.
job 6 June 2008
the worst has happened – the mate* i told ye about was offered a permanent job, which is tantamount to dismissal! so, as of the end of the month, he is unemployed. what he’s really hoping for, though, is that he could secure a position that starts in september so he can have a great summer with his family and then get stuck in again – simple wish, but in these days ist poss? *ok i’ll come clean – tis my (london) brother
wreck 5 June 2008
I am a wreck, no two ways about it. Today I awoke after a very fractured sleep thanks to the attentions of a DELIGHTED cat that was allowed stay on the bed throughout the night* and dragged myself out to find that my left eye was bloodshot and sore. Still is. I have since heard that this is Kilkenny Eye or, perhaps more accurately, Kilkenny Festival Eye, as I am the 6th reported case since the weekend…what the heck was going on in that town? I can’t remember any shenanigans that would have led to such an outbreak. But for hearing this news from a mate who works and lives in the town (on the festival of mirth which I attended, as it happens) I would have blamed Herself and her catty hairiness. Now I have to hope that the Condition disappears by (very) early Saturday when I take to the film set once again. In the meantime may I also say that I have realised that I should never go out without some class of concealing makeup on, as the bags under the bloodshot, and not so bloodshot, eyes are totally tragic now and I look like the Wreck of the Hesperus. So, how was your day? *The Husband reported a lovely sleep altogether…
hair 4 June 2008
I have only ever truly had one ambition in life – that is (was?) to be a hairdresser. When I was a kid my mum used to go to a large, fully kitted-out room of a nearby house to get her hair done and I thought it was unbearably glamorous. Since then I have loved the whole circumstance around people wanting to give themselves a ‘lift’ and the hairdresser is one of the places where you can do that – it’s something for yourself.
NOW.
The Husband is An Baldy Bloke and actually spends more on his haircuts than I do, I suspect. When he was in Ukraine he got a shaver thingy to do the trick and now I am having to administer the shaving action of same. The results, I must tell you, are fantastic and I am GOOD at the job* but I find it ever so slightly weird, actually, and I am still not sure why. Is it the sheer shearing of a close ally and mate? Or what?
Dunno.
*blowing my own trumpet, but you just never know who out there needs me as their stylist/apprentice
The G was ON ME all day since I arrived home for my brief visit – the LURV in the air was palpable (via the purring).
Her breath is smelly…like she cares? and now I stink…like she cares?
The dog on set (Spot, the Dalmation) had smelly breath too, yesterday…like she (Spot) cared. And, hey, that was Uxbridge and Geezee (Dublin) don’t care ‘bout that either.
All is well (still)
plash 3 June 2008
I am sitting listening to the plash of the rain on the wet road outside as cars goes by – a strangely comforting sound. Tis another rainy night in Soho. I was out earlier and struck by how uneven everything is when the rain comes. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say I always notice it more when then hollows are filled with water, and hidden bumps ‘n bits snag at a foot. It’s a little reminder that, though we build our streets and roads and fortresses, the earth is moving on beneath us and doing its bit from above too to chip away at our efforts. Still, everything will sparkle and be refreshed when the sun deigns to shine on us again and it’s mild so there is a nice sensation to the rain on the face. Although I could do without the damp creeping up my leg and reminding me that my trousers are a tad too long and dragging in puddles (or is it the legs are too short?) and that I am a bit of a fool to have carried so much back from the supermarket just cos I wanted some flowers to brighten up the table and therefore couldn’t hold the umbrella above my head and got wetter than I might have (soft drop of rain or not). Small things and I’ll get over them. All is well.
fired 2 June 2008
A friend of mine here in London works in computers in the City and is under the kosh a bit at the mo. For a while some years ago he was incredibly well paid as a contractor (my fave bit to envy was when he was flown first class on a number of occasions to Saudi Arabia and was paid the full whack for the time travelling too) but now times are hard – it’s credit and it’s crunchy, as my friends on Bremner Bird and Fortune would say. All of his department are to find out their fate this week and have been keeping the head down, turning up on time and working HARD in readiness. Most frightening for them was the fate of a colleague who was effectively fired recently – how it happened was he was offered a permanent job with the company = disaster. He couldn’t afford to take the post (much lower wages) so he had to go. My mate is now in total terror of being offered a similar job…
Apropos the Davina McColl comment – I am in no way judging her hair colour ad and what it entails – hey, we all gotta make a livin’ – it just led me to remembering when I was in a position of having to decide on something vaguely similar that would have affected my family.