Various Plays and a leavetaking

I have tried to avoid anything self-referential in this blog. Tedious in the extreme is every line of writing about writing. This blog is neglected. I have such a hard time finding time to write. That kind of stuff. I write for the story, not the story about the story. But I must break that rule to tell you that I will be taking this blog down shortly.

Over the last six years I have sporadically chronicled true love, parenting, Occupy, mental illness, British culture, writing and seeing plays and posted my favorite poems.

296 posts since February 2009. The first was about Williams v First Government, the predatory lending case I tried in 1997, age 29. That was quite a story. It was a story of our times and we didn't even know it.

I have since written the play of that case, called Kerching.

This blog though is mostly known for Occupy.

The most popular post is one of my worst entries, a series of random observations on the rule of law and children ("The Trial Is Friday"). The second most popular is Why Is The Economist Confused. This was written before Occupy but after the London riots over, guess what, a race-related police execution. I write in there that I always wanted to be in a riot but the truth is I'm a middle-class pansy and pretty adverse to physical discomfort and even being kettled by the police was such an anathema to me. Anyway if you ever wonder what any of my plays are about, read Why Is The Economist Confused. About alienation and fear in a consumerist society and the failures of my generation.

So around Occupy I sort of used this blog as my engagement with those wonderful people at the London camp via twitter. I mean I was still going there all the time. I remember my husband Rhys with his impeccable manners asking sweetly if I would be going to London and risk arrest on Saturdays indefinitely?

In the middle of Occupy I got a call from Guy Masterson and I started writing him some plays. One is touring London, Adelaide and Little Rock next year. It's called Bill Clinton Hercules.

And then there was This Is Water with ADC and Seven Words for Love for Twisted Willow and most recently, Wedding at Cana which will be available to listen to on Soundcloud in the coming days.

It's been a busy period my life and it's intensifying, so I will say goodbye to the blog for a while. Here are some updates for the die-hards (three of you I know by name)
Faranelli and the King: What is it with Rylance? Magic candelit show. Hidden depth. Such a night at the theater.

Nell Gwynn: Charming and wonderful although Nell's no River Song.

Edinburgh 2015: I am in a weird period where I super disagree with popular opinion and critic's choice so it was a strange Fringe. I liked I'm Not Here Right Now, I was not overly impressed with The Christians. Man to Man was ridiculous despite the rapturous audience reception. I mean I really wanted to break into the sound booth and forcefeed a sedative to the tech. Smoke and Mirrors was a strange dance work with moments of total poignancy. Really worth seeing. After all my years in Europe I was somewhat snobbily shocked that these sensitive and subtle dancers were from like Arizona. Arizona!

The best show was This Will End Badly - a Rob Hayes one man monologue that weaves a terrifying love story, a potential suicide, obsessive compulsive disorder and testosterone. It ends on one of the most magnificently theatrical moments. An ejaculation of light. The casual observations about the characters Hayes creates especially about hooking up with drunk girls are devastatingly accurate.  An extended constipation arc. I was absorbed.

Goodbye and thanks for all the fish.


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