Writing from Heaven

Hemel Hempstead. May 19, 2007. 9am. First performance last night in the Hemel Hempstead Town Hall. About 45 attended, which was more than expected. The audience was warm, receptive, responsive. Hemel - in Afrikaans - means heaven. Last night I understood in a whole new way the "cost" of doing Two Men Talking. Evoking the past is a way of invoking the past. Feelings long forgotten or buried are summoned, and there is a brand new opportunity to let go. Story is very powerful. Much more powerful than I realize sometimes - in its capacity to transport ourselves and the audience to another place. While we are talking about the past, the stories are happening right there in the moment. In the here and now, never to happen again in this way, with these people. I wouldn't know how to evaluate the performance. Afterwards, in the bar, I had the feeling that people were moved - in the sense that something had been stirred, energized. Its the oddest thing: while the stories are so intensely personal, what happens through the telling of them is a common experience. And that's where the magic lives.

But this morning, as I sit in this holiday apartment, looking out at a sign that says MP Tully Scaffolding, and the Soviet style Kodak building (apparently abandoned by Kodak) I am aware of life back to usual. The magic not gone, but suspended, until the next show. Which will be altogether different. For one thing, it will not be in Heaven. It will be at the University of Herts