claytoncast

I always find Autumn a strangely comforting time of year. Very nostalgic. A combination of the darkening nights, the smoky air and the falling leaves, it seems only natural to look back over the summer and further. Except that this Autumn keeps surprising us with late bursts of warmth and sun. Not time yet to put away the light trousers and the summer polo shirts. We spent the 1st of October with thousands of other people strolling along the front at Brighton in t shirt and shorts. We had a beautiful week of hot weather in Alicante last week, temperature in the eighties and we had lovely long days reading books on the beach. I suppose Autumn is full of the familiar. Halloween, Bonfire Night and the build up to Christmas. I surpassed myself the other day by buying a few Christmas presents while I was out shopping. Early even for me. The design of our Christmas cards (so longed for by so many!)is also praying on my mind and will probably be done this weekend. Work is quiet. Some i...

I'm sitting at the back of a major conference that I've spent the last six days directing. It's a strange feeling. These shows are big logistic exercises. What music goes where? Which video to play in here? Where should the speakers stand? This uses all the technical skills I have garnered as a theatre director but one. At no point does it call on any ability to arouse or stir emotion. Why speak in public? These days when information can be disseminated at the touch of a button, why put ourselves through the terror of speaking in public at all. Why not just send a document? And terror it is for some. Part of my job here ( and as a director) is handholding. Giving the speakers a confidence to face their audience and deliver the message. For many it's just a data dump. Spewing out fact after fact, figure after figure for their audience and never once addressing the emotion. When we speak, we can change how people feel. Often by how we say something more than by what we sa...

 I think the reason I gave up writing a diary as a teenager was the fact that  at the end of  some days  there just didn't seem to be anything worth writing about.  It wasn't that the day hadn't been full of things. It was just that none of them seemed special enough to put to paper.  That's what this week has seemed a little bit like.  The main thing about the past week is that Rich and I spent most of it apart!  I'm glad to see that after what will be 15 years together this Christmas, we still don't like that. Admittedly I'm sure there's a moment of joy  fame when he realises I'm not going to be at home that night and he can have an earplug free night and sprawl across the bed. Similarly for me, I can read on into the small hours not worrying that my bedside light might be disturbing him.  In the morning however, waking to an empty bed is never a joy for either of us and so after 3 nights apart last week we were very keen to see each ...