I did a theatre show. I did a big thing on a stage and, amazingly, people came.
After two Edinburgh Fringe shows and a stack of spoken word / comedy performances, it was great to expand my own brand of cartoon stupidity to a larger stage. My third show Seven Inch was a surreal and silly story about a failed record shop, which happened to be a 3D cartoon. The four performances, commissioned by The Lowry, were part of their Week 53 festival for the creatively curious.
What an absolute joy it was. 160 people on the opening night, a five star review, and a riotous closing performance on Friday in which I lost my temper at the audience. All acting of course - in real life, I have the temper of a ketamined sloth on holiday.
It was also a fantastically rewarding experience to collaborate with proper clever theatre people, especially stage manager Mark Croasdale who, I suspect, is an actual angel. Next time I meet him, I'll check for wings.
I'm not quite sure I can process how big of an experience this was just yet. I'm writing this in bed by yapping into my phone. Maybe I just need some sleep, and to get my blogging and social life back. A touch of normality, and some space to reflect.
Then what? It would be great to go on tour with my little record shop show. For now, though... to bed.
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