Transition time

In five hours, I'll be on a bus to Paris (yes, a bus - we waited too long to book the Eurostar. Ah well). I'm really excited, for obvious reasons (Croissants. Wine. Cheese. AND IT'S PARIS.) But I also think it's going to be really good for me just be out of London for a few days. I'm planning on doing very little else in Paris other than eating, drinking, and walking around. Breathing. Thinking. Reflecting.

The oncoming end of my time at this school (and possibly in this country) has been a more tangible presence in these past few weeks. We have two terms left, one of which will be exclusively rehearsal/creation time, and then the whole world (quite literally) opens up with terrifying, ridiculous possibility. Where will I go? The only thing that I'm certain of at the moment is that I want to be where the art is. I want to be where I can build things with people, and make work that is important to me, and joyful, and challenging, and fun. And realistically, that could be anywhere. That's exciting.

But I'd be lying if I said that there isn't an edge of sadness around the idea of jumping into the rest of my life, both artistic and otherwise. I am very aware, at the moment, of the fact that whereever I choose to be, I will no longer be with some of my newfound collaborators and friends. Not everyone will be in the same place after July, and that makes these remaining months bittersweet. At what other time will I be surrounded by *all* these people, these colleagues, these friends, from *all* around the world, whom I did not choose, but who were thrown in my path and continue to teach me so much? And where do I begin on this fantastic voyage of the rest of my life?

There's not an answer to that, now. That's okay.

Something I will say about LISPA, about the past eighteen months, is that I feel more empowered as an artist and as a performer now than I ever have been. I'm not sure I can explain what a good and important feeling that is. I'm beginning to feel the worth of my art, and it's an amazing thing.