You're Pretty Much Reading my Diary

Positively Baltic! (07Jan16)

As the weather goes beyond our ability to cope, we snuggle in our rooms, packing, washing, sleeping and savouring by day and performing by night. I've grown so appreciative of our cast, loving the banter that happens before each show which has grown to a new high in our final week.

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning! (Stockholm Urban Art)

The material is starting to become uncomfortably ingrained in my brain, where I know it so well that I question myself. Nothing like some uncertainty to keep the adrenaline high in our final days! I write this post in a cafe that Sharifa and I visited on our first day out in Helsinki. Back then, I felt super ill, dizzy and altogether overwhelmed, unable to get up from my chair without clinging on to the table for dear life. That dizziness was probably caused by a mixture of sea-legs and fever accrued in my first week. It was a hoot!

What company do I love more? Quiche or Sharif? :P

Now, I sit covered in wool, my head wrapped in the thickest scarf I've ever owned. It's just a meagre attempt to combat the -25 degree weather today! It is absolutely BALTIC - with extreme emphasis on the "B" - as Ollie would say it.

Helsinki is so cold it smokes!

"I Feel a Sea of Change Come over Me" (09Jan16)

This is a snippet from "On the Verge", a play by Eric Overmeyer. Does he sound familiar? Let me continue...

"a disturbance in my very bones as I breathe the rare air of terra incognita." Terra Incognita. Yep, it's the play that inspired my tattoo (and blog)! Thank you, Eric! This passage describes how one's outsides alter one's insides. Duh!


As with all transitions in life, I am getting a bit anxious about the end of this contract. I wouldn't say I'm overly worried about what will happen next; I'm proud of my accomplishments, and I am lucky enough to resume my "normal" jobs in London on my return. It's the impending flights, the different time zones and cultures and people. Yes, people.

Obligatory "ALL DONE!" Selfie

The shows are over, the bags are packed, the breakfast masticated and swallowed. We fly from Helsinki, away from the snowy skies and frozen seas, away from the performance lifestyle, the 24 hour salad bar, the poor wifi, the duty free sales and audience admiration. We fly towards our loved ones, well...

For me, loved ones are everywhere. Today is my first evening back in London, and I see them everywhere. I make double takes. They disappear, my memory of their features melding with the strangers of East Putney. I'm home!

Another Day Another Life (10Jan16)

Is it not the weirdest thing, to have a completely different life from one day to the next? Today I went to my "local" for morning Mass, and I felt an odd realisation: it's in English. I'd been exposed to the Finnish, Swedish and even Nigerian services for so long, that the familiarity of my vernacular struck hard. I chuckled as the altar servers whispered directions under their breath to one another, as one obviously disliked the smell of the incense she was holding, as I listened to the sermon that didn't make much sense to me (but it did make grammatical sense, hooray)!

 

Jules agreed to meet me today, and I finally was able to show her my humble abode. We spent the day watching and listening to recordings of the Baltic Sea shows, gossiping, eating, loving. She questioned my vegetarianism with a slightly derisive nature. Oh Jules! Hahaha, no one but me will understand this decision. I told her the industry is one of the leading factors to global warming, taste preference does not outweigh animal cruelty, and that I didn't really miss it anyway. But hey, I think my dad just caught a fresh deer back at home; does the method in which it was killed and its optimal quality of life (in the wild) mean I can eat it? Not quite sure; not too fussed. 

Plantlife

The Beginnings of a Berry Smoothie; Gardet, Stockholm.

Appreciating and sustaining life has become a beacon for me this year. Just as I omit meats from my meals, I also have a fun story to tell about my friend, Pepe. He's my ever-loyal Christmas tree, bought from a little flower shop in Helsinki. When the time came for us to depart Scandinavia, I was confronted with the question of what to do with him. Being in a pot, he was sure to survive for a while, granted he was watered on occasion. But who would take that responsibility?

Simon suggested I should just throw him overboard. Jamie said he'd like to come watch when I did it!

Being the compassionate fool that I am, I defied that idea wholeheartedly! I wrote a sign for him and decided to deposit him at the local park, hoping someone might read the sign and take pity on Pepe. That day was a blustery one in Stockholm. The snow covered the ground, my scarf, my head. I meandered for a while, only realising that Pepe's sign had been lost as I was carrying him! Growing desperate, I thought perhaps he'd be more visible if I dropped him near the station. Then I thought, "what if he was mistaken for terrorist activity?" So I kept walking. I asked an elderly gentleman if he'd enjoy having Pepe, and he refused. So I kept walking. 

Pepe for President! #pepeevergreen

Pepe ended up going to a nice shop lady named Anna. She was absolutely euphoric when I proffered him to her. She laughed when I told his name. She was excited that I said he's got an instagram following. He doesn't, but you guys could make that happen #pepeevergreen. LOLZA.

The Darling Day I Gave Pepe Away 

Now I'm back in London and most of my belongings are in their correct places, I need to begin to pack again. Cuz guess who's going to be in DC!? ME! Yeah, I know, lavish lifestyle and I really ought to watch my carbon footprint on a spectrum of fields (not just the meat-eating one), but hey, I cycle everywhere in London so there's that. 

About my constant upheaval, Carol says, "you're not one to let the grass grow!" Right you are, Carol. Right you are. I'm considering getting another tattoo, one that represents rest (to counter my current one that represents adventure). But life doesn't rest, so why should I? Moreover, where is an inconspicuous place to get it? My pwet?! 

(if you really want to know what that word means, it's in tagalog; google it).

And that's all folks. Talk to you from America!