Once more, I’m unsure who would actually read this all the way through, given the self-indulgence herein, but don’t worry – I’ve found an image that reflects both the world’s 2016 and my thoughts on writing the thing.
First things first. The Sydney Theatre Company’s production of David Mamet’s Speed-the-Plow is made well. It’s performed well, hits its marks and sees some obvious dedication from its three actors. Andrew Upton’s direction and Mamet’s dialogue means the time zips along. By my usual indicators, I should’ve loved the show.
And yet, something was in the way. (more…)
So it’s been a bit quiet around here of late.
This is because I’ve been moving house. I’ve moved out of the house I used to own, which I thought I’d live in for a long time. Obviously, a couple of years is a long time if you’re the kind of renter who moves (or is forced to move) every couple of months, but you’re forgetting that I’m a) a curmudgeon and b) a hobbit so I’m pretty fond of my holes.
I like holes. Comfy holes. With all the things. Where I know where they are!
Anyway, I’m typing this on a laptop in a room full of boxes and cat toys. That’s pretty much the whole house: cat toys and boxes. But it’s a new house I’m renting – a shopfront and flat upstairs, ensuring that I finally have discovered a Pulp cliche.