Merry Christmas vs Happy New Year

Dear Friends,

This will possibly be my last post of 2005. And what a year it has been.

I have nothing of great note to say today - except Christmas was a-ok, just glad to be back in the freezing city! I hope you all had a wonderful time, and that Santa was good to you all!

There was one thing that let it down for me - the pervading sense of loneliness. I was at friends houses, or family do's - and was hit by the shattering realisation that I'm the only single one now. I'm hitting the age where all of my cousins are married, or partnered off, and having babies and settling down - and as a result of that my Grandparents are asking when I'm going to get married.

Which I laugh off - my longest relationship lasted 2 years and that ended in a pit of shit, why would I want that again? - but the laughter only really covers a very deep insecurity. I hate being alone.

Oh well, I'm sure if I had love I'd have something to moan about then, too.

Anyhoo - have an amazing NYE. If you have someone to love, make sure you love them extra-specially well! If you don't, love your friends, or your family, or yourself.

Because we're all special, we all deserve a glimmer of hope...

**
Missing You

I miss you so much that sometimes I feel like I’m running out of breath.
I hate being alone so much that every second of every minute you’re not here feels like an eternity.
I want someone to hold so much that my arms feel empty and useless.
If I could prove to you how much I need you by any means necessary, I would.
I would paint my heart across the sky, and wither myself away for you.
I would write a thousand songs – none of which would make any difference – just to see you read them.
I will life to be like the movies…
And you would turn…
And you would come back to me…
But I cannot be selfish.
You cannot be me.
And I cannot be you.
I would give away everything I have, give up everything I am, for one last moment with you.
And when I hold you I can smell your hair – and I know you know that I never want to let go.
Do I love you still?
No.
I miss you, and there’s no-one here to replace you.
I miss you so much.
I miss you so much that sometimes I feel like I’m running out of breath.

**

I love you all. And it's nice to know we all go to sleep under the same sky.

Please, make peace.

Cx

Learning Stuff vs Steve from Essex

Hello.

Hell.

Hel.

He.

H.

I think, when all is said and done, I need a little help. Today I have been singing the Monkey song a lot (by the way – check out www.weebls-stuff.com and watch the Weebl and Bob series of cartoons – they are fabulous), and generally trying to fight my way through this quagmire that is known only as ‘work’ – a strange and mystical thing which I’m still not sure I understand…

I read in the Metro this morning a letter that this one guy had sent in. He was bitching about the use of the term ‘Santa Claus’ instead of ‘Father Christmas’, and saying he was sick of people using Americanisms. Hello? Americanisms? Does this guy know nothing about Christmas? ‘Santa Claus’, as I’m sure we’re all aware is a colloquial term which was derived from the words ‘St. Nicholas’ – who is the patron fucking saint of Christmas!! So screw you, Steve from Essex, and the horse you rode in on.

What else can I lace your eyes with today? It’s been a pretty good one – managed to waste most of it doing a sum total of sweet fuck all, I wrapped a Secret Santa present and shared lunch with one of the most beautiful people in the world (my best friend) on the Embankment. I bitch a lot about this city – but sometimes when I sit back and just watch the world go by, I love it. I love its vibrancy, its colour and its pace. I love it when it’s dark. I love it early in the morning. I love it when it’s cold. I love it when it’s hot.

And let me tell you this – the women here are beautiful. I probably should get around to getting me one of them!

I have also been learning Afrikaans. I can now say good morning to you, tell you when I’m fed up, say the word beer, and identify a strange, millipede type creature.

It’s been a day of learning and no mistake!

Right. I’m off to write a letter to the Metro, and Steve from Essex.

B.

By.

Bye.

Make peace,

Chris

Christmas vs Business

Wednesday…

It’s just another day of whiling away the hours til 6pm, when I should actually and finally start my preparations for Christmas.

Which is where I’m going to start today. I love Christmas. I really do. It’s a time of year when we can actually have fun without feeling guilty about it, where we can pile on a few pounds and no-one cares because we’re all the same – and a time when we actually make the step we’ve been promising to do all year and spend some time with the family. The message of the season is key, though : “Peace on earth and Goodwill to all men.”

Do you hear that, Mr. Bush? Do you hear that, Mr. Blair? Do you hear that, Mr. Bin Laden?

But we all know what’s going to happen. Invariably, some drunken asshole who thought that being a designated driver was boring will crash in to another car and kill a few people. Without a doubt, some kids will get drunk and beat the living shit out of each other. Regardless, thousands of families will fall out, or sit in their poverty stricken squalor.

Kind of makes you think a bit more about how lucky you are, doesn’t it?

Now, I’m a Christian (which is lucky, considering that’s my name…) – and I don’t care if you’re Sikh, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist or even if you worship at the inverted crucifix of Lucifer himself. We all want to be happy. And this time of year, regardless of your religious viewpoint – we should all try and keep hold of the message I mentioned above.

But the whole point of this beginning part is what really pisses me off about Christmas. Now, it’s all about greed. It’s about plying the general public with subversive messages about shit they don’t really need but will probably get anyway. Christmas is rapidly turning in to yet another fucking Hallmark holiday which centres itself around vast consumerism, mass commercialism, and intolerable materialism.

My note to the world is this: Be happy with what you get, because someone put a lot of thought and love in to that present. And so should you. Don’t just buy something on a wing and a prayer. Think about the person you’re buying for, and how much that gift will mean to them. This is about love and respect – not a competition to see who can spend the most money…

What do we all wish for for Christmas? I can answer that. All I wish for is love. I split from one of the most special people ever last Christmas – and this year I thought I’d be spending it with someone I truly loved (and who loved me too) – but sadly it wasn’t to be.

So I wish for love, and happiness. Enough of it, anyway.

And I wish all of you the same.

Peace,

Chris

Love of Theatre vs Everything Else

Thoughts I’ve had today:

1) I want to go home
2) I don’t feel well
3) I want to go home
4) I want to sleep
5) I want to go home

Sometimes, yes, my thoughts can be as banal as that. Most days I sit here performing wonders of conceptual engineering – answering questions such as “How many Smarties can I fit in my mouth at the same time?” and “If I could add any two things to my body, what would they be?”. Sometimes, I’ll stare blankly in to space. Sometimes, I’ll try and figure out the answers to everyone else’s problems. On occasion, I’ll formulate a plan to take over the world with the cunning use of an elastic band and a hundred weight of clarified butter.

Other days, I’ll just not want to be here any more.

Worry not, I’m not suicidal. I’m not manically depressed, nor am I ostensibly unhappy. I am, however, fed up.

“Why are you fed up?” I hear you cry. Well, let me tell you this. If you worked where I work, if you had to do this every day, you’d be fed up too.

I used to be creative – I trained for so many years to be so – but I’ve lost all of that. OK, yes, so I write poetry and songs and stories, and that keeps me sane – but the killer is there’s no creativity in my work.

A chef will create wonders with ingredients every day. A car designer creates miracles of carbon fibre alloy every minute. A midwife delivers little sparks of humanity in to this world every second. People make differences. And I want to feel like that again. I want to feel as though I entertain. Because there’s nothing like the rush of applause. There’s nothing like knowing you’ve put your heart and soul in to portraying a character – you’ve given everything you have – blood, sweat, tears, a whole gamut of raw emotion. You become someone else. You live them. You breathe them. You’re one with your performance space. You are, if you attain your art perfectly, on a different plane of existence. And the curtain will fall. And there will be a moments silence. And you hold your breath. And the moment feels like it lasts forever – it is filled with questions and concerns about your own performance – for that briefest of long moments everything you did in preparation suddenly doesn’t seem enough any more. Your world begins to crash down around you. You shake and rub the make-up around your eyes in to whirls of grey as you wait for the verdict to be delivered from the audience. Time slows to a crawl and the air fills with grease as you stand painted in the wings, hand in hand with your dramatic enemy, or lover, or mother – or even your Widow Twanky, given the time of the year – and then all of a sudden…

The air explodes with noise. It doesn’t matter if it’s 20 people clapping and whistling or 500 or 1000 people clapping and whistling. The fact remains you’ve reached out and entertained someone. More than that – you’ve reached out and touched someone. You may have forced them to ask questions about themselves. Or you might simply have persuaded them to suspend their very 20th Century disbeliefs and allowed themselves to fall in to a world where nothing is what it seems, but everything is real.

There is nothing like applause. It’s love, hate, passion, heat, cold, energy, narcissism, arrogance, joy, repulsion, shock, fear, gratitude and sex all rolled in to one.

I imagine the chef feels the same way when the get a note from a satisfied customer that their food was exceptional. I imagine the car designer feels the same when he sees someone driving his latest creation. I imagine the midwife feels the same way when she sees a new mother and father looking lovingly at their new born baby.

We are proud creatures. This is why we fight with all we have to protect what is rightfully ours.

And what am I doing about this? I am getting a new job – I have interviews this week. But I’m aware of where it’s taking me – it’s to enable me to save for a year and then become myself again.

Because we should all be proud. We should be proud of ourselves, and of those we love.

And all I need to be proud again is to feel the warmth of applause. To feel the soft creak of the stage under my feet. To feel my hot skin under the lights of the theatre. To walk in to an empty space and turn it in to anything I please. To see an empty theatre and feel the very electricity that courses through the air – cracking through the seats and the floors and the walls and up through the proscenium arch to the one place that I can truly call – home.

Before I go, here’s a song that I wrote:

***

Perhaps It’s Time

Perhaps it’s time I stole the show
Rip down the curtains and
Shine just for you
Perhaps it’s time I pull off this paint
Wear away this smile and
Exist just for you
Perhaps it’s time I tear my costume
Stand naked here and
Be me just for you

Perhaps it’s time I perform the 2nd act
Navigate these lines and
Put myself out for you
Perhaps it’s time I forget what to say
And stumble and stutter and
Corpse just for you
Perhaps it’s time I took my applause
Bathe in your love and
Perform an encore for you