AU REVOIR COCO
Sunday night again and no chance of a blog worthy of the name, though, walking up to Pret a Manger at The Angel this morning in light drizzle from the Coco warm-up at Sadler’s Wells, I had all manner of ideas in my head. It is such a novelty to feel positive and content with the world whilst traversing London’s wet pavements, so much so that I thought I should just make a quick note of it here. I’d even bought a ludicrously expensive notebook so as to compose a poem over my crayfish and mango sandwich and probiotic yoghurt, but the magic faded as I realized it was past one o’clock and the first of our two shows was 1.30.
Coco is over now. I shall miss it … wouldn’t mind finding myself doing a lost musical every Sunday from now ’till my doomsday. The cast and director were adorable and only rarely maddening and Sara Kestelman’s Coco an absolute gem. I needed to get that off my chest, forgive me. A blog about something will eventually follow …
Meanwhile, continuing my experiments on the tiny canvas of an iPhone, I offer you my living bouquet of wild dog roses. I have a pact with fourteen-year-old Doug Wood, who guides my blind Tiresias; we set each other subjects to be illustrated, which explains the word at the top of the picture.
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