I have seen him in the watchfires of 100 circling camps . . . .

Here it comes. Noticing spelling mistakes on all the advertising and failing with applications, here it comes. Both Daniel and I have now found ways to ignore the obvious truth. He, more sensibly, has chosen to sort out his garden, has been to a cheap show or two, and spent time with Karielle. I went and drank for three days, doing things that I will regret for some time. Either way we chose to run, the date arrives and we haven’t a goddamn clue what we are doing. Now fighting for rehearsal space, we have opted for a trade off with the stone soup project (if they accept). A cheap/free venue for some good volunteer work, getting our hands back into the shit of clearing out old buildings, it feels good to be home. Yet if this does not come through, well, fear and all that waits around the blunt and harsh corner of the 30th. My solution, although I have not discussed this with my good friend, is a new scheme of director/producer prostitution. Look, all I’m saying is that we are two young men with the long hair and at least one good pair of lungs between us. I have sunk lower than that before, and if it’s in the name of art, well…

Yet, positive we will stay. Small successes and little failures here and there and we will make our way though the fire. And if the worst arrives, then at least we are currently sitting outside, desperately attempting to cheat free food from our friends, enjoying this cool summer air. There are worse ways to live. As we consider ways to make money, we drank our wine and wondered about all those old buildings, those empty student houses that line the roads of Radford. Maybe, I said, we could break into a different one each day, we wouldn’t be the first illegal travelling theatre company. And although we have come up with some good ideas which do involve a slight snap of the law (of which I will not yet let leak) we finally drew back from our home invasion scheme. Not because of any false sense of legal morality, Or any pompous idea that we are better than those occupy their time in such a fashion (if anything, I think less of directors than I do thieves), but purely because of Daniel’s unique fashion. How many burglars do you think, might be found wearing a cashmere jacket with matching cravat? And it wouldn’t be the first time either. The dam fool…