In the current political and environmental climate anger is bubbling beneath everything and everyone. So how do artists respond to or channel that? Far from being inward-looking, or simply reflecting the world we’re in, art can – and should – be reaching for a better future. And anger can help that happen.

So, as a playwright, I write about stuff I’m angry about. And in a matter of days, some of that anger is going to be unleashed, out loud, in the form of Hear Me Howl at the Old Red Lion Theatre, London.

I wrote this play because I’m angry about the limiting societal expectations placed on women. Despite the fact that the number of women choosing to remain childfree is rising year on year, it still raises eyebrows. There is still a pressure on women once they’ve reached a certain age to “settle down”, to “nest”’, get married and get a mortgage: expectations that the protagonist of HMH, Jess, has put up with throughout her twenties but now refuses to respond to with simply polite patience.

This comes at an exciting age of women now speaking up, women refusing to be silenced by harassment, sexism, prejudice, and traditional gender stereotypes that have gone on for years. And, as Jo Brand called out Hislop & co on Have I Got News For You ‘it builds up and it wears you down’. The patriarchy would have it that women would quite simply not feel anger. Or if they did, they should just swallow it. Note how Serena Williams’ recent challenge of the umpire was met with horror and penalties, as opposed to being a symbol of outspoken leadership. This tidal wave of female rage (#MeToo and #TimesUp) that is sweeping across the planet, crashing through the dusty outdated corridors of one industry at a time, thrills me and buoys me up to keep fighting – and to keep writing.

We have to do something with this anger, this female rage, – use it as fuel to change the rules; use our voices and our platforms, however small, to make change. That’s why punk – the ideologies, the music – runs through Hear Me Howl – because the essence of punk is about actively pushing against social norms and doing so unashamedly, with noise.

Hear Me Howl is a play about a woman who is ‘rebirthed’ when she repudiates convention, joins a post-punk band, and becomes politically engaged for the first time. Jess’ eyes are opened to not only her power as a woman, but also her environmental impact on a planet that is in crisis. With a series of post-show events from a female-led punk gig, to an abortion rights talk and a climate change film screening, we have engaged with a line-up of incredible women who are active with their rage, whatever that rage might be.

I asked the team, what does ‘punk’ mean to you? The answers to which I found so inspiring I’ve printed them off and stuck them on my fridge to remind me every day. Here is the nifty list – I hope it ignites the same little bonfire of courage in you too.

PUNK IS…
Imagination over rules
Challenging the status quo
Being loud, unapologetic, personal and political
Being like Vivienne Westwood and telling people that even though she has been brought to an event to discuss fashion she will actually just talk about climate change.
Not giving a toss about what society expects of you
Fighting to protect nature
Smashing the patriarchy
Screaming and sweat
Going against society’s norms
Pushing the boundaries of acceptable behaviour and having the bravery to step out of predefined roles
Sticking your finger up at society in order to help society evolve
Self-expression over convention
Pushing for a better future
Doing what you know is right even if it runs the risk of social rejection
An expression of defiance

And, just for fun, here’s the music we are howling to at the moment, from the punk to the.. Erm… not so punk…
The Chain and Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac
Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill
ABBA
X-Ray Spex, The Slits
You Can Call Me Al by Simon and Garfunkel
Ain’t No Doubt by Jimmy Nail
Demilitarise by Henge
Through the Long Night by Billy Joel

HEAR ME HOWL is playing from 18th – 29th September at the Old Red Lion Theatre at 7.30pm, with a preview matinee on Wednesday 19th at 2.30pm, and with Saturday matinees at 3pm.
For more details and to book tickets, click here:
www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk/hear-me-howl.html

What makes you howl with anger? Or with freedom?! We’d love to know. Tweet us at @Hear_Me_Howl #hearmehowl and who knows, you may find your track on our show’s playlist.

The post HEAR US HOWL: ART AND ANGER By Lydia Rynne appeared first on The Quarter Club.

I’ve had good relationships and bad relationships, and it took me quite a long time to realise that I couldn’t actually control them as much as I thought I could. For someone like me, this was frustrating at best, devastating at worst. I think lots of people feel like that too. To make myself feel better after this realisation, I turned to the one thing I knew I could (at least try to) control – my career.

I had a real crossroads moment a couple of years ago where I knew I had to make a decision – stay in a job I was really unhappy in, or change it. I didn’t decide overnight, but I did decide: I had to make a change. Hmm, I thought to myself, what do I love? Really love? What would I be happy to spend every day doing? The answer came quickly – books. I have always been a big reader; growing up, we didn’t have a television so I read all the time, whatever I could get my hands on, and when it came to deciding what to study at university there was no question – it had to be English. Throughout my life, books have been the thing that have allowed me to escape – to block out worries, help me through difficult situations, make me laugh – and the idea of making a career out of books felt like a breakthrough in my mind.

So what did I do? Well, I bought some more books. I read non-fiction guides to the publishing industry, I read the Writers and Artists’ Yearbook, I read How to Be A Writer by Lorrie Moore, and I re-wrote my C.V. and applied for all the publishing jobs I could see. After a while and quite a bit of rejection, it paid off. I can still remember the day I got the call from a publishing house offering me an assistant job – I answered the phone in a disabled bathroom because it was the only place I could hide in for a second, and when I hung up I felt an overwhelming sense that something had shifted inside me. Finally, I was going to be able to do what I loved. And no awful break-ups or unhealthy friendships or bad housemates could alter that.

Fast forward a few years and I work as a commissioning editor in a London publishing house, reading, buying and editing books all day long. I also write, and my first novel was published this September. My life is full to the brim of books, and I love it; no matter what else is going on in my personal life, I know that when I sit down at the computer I am doing something that fulfils me, and that connects me to other like-minded people. A lot of the authors I work with are very talented, and immersing myself in their manuscripts is a privilege. When I get home, I write my own books and that too is a real pleasure, even though at times I get stuck and want to throw my laptop at the wall (but I can’t, because it belongs to my company so that would probably be a mistake). Writing can be like a form of therapy – it allows you to completely focus on something other than yourself and your normal life, and it lets your mind go wherever it wants to (at least in the first draft!)

So, why do I think it’s so important to try to love your job? Well, firstly, because it’s where you spend the most time. It’s where your energy goes, and it’s quite often how you’re forced to define yourself when people ask that dreaded question – what do you do? I am fully aware that not everybody has the perfect financial or personal circumstances to make a career change, but I do think that there are nearly always steps that can be taken to change our careers if we truly want to – one step at a time. I never, ever would have quit my job without another one to go to because I did not have the financial backing to do so, and to this day doing that is not something I would advise unless you are in some sort of danger or harmful situation. When I was starting out in publishing I worked four jobs at once to make ends meet in an expensive city, I didn’t have much of a life because I was always at work and I was really, really tired – so much so that my periods stopped for three months (that was a scary moment…!) But it was worth it, because even though I can’t control other people around me and I can’t always guarantee that every personal relationship will work out, I can spend my time doing something I love and that for me is very important.

None of this is to say that there are not still times when life feels difficult. Of course there are! Jobs are challenging, and not every day is perfect. Nor am I anywhere near reaching the pinnacle of my career – I still have a long way to go. But when I remember how it felt to spend every day feeling miserable at work, I remind myself how lucky I am to have changed that and I feel grateful for the people who supported me in that decision. I think getting to a stage where you can say you love your job is a really wonderful thing, and every single one of us deserves to be able to say that. Take the time to think about what it is you love – it could be anything at all. Ask yourself questions that feel scary and uncomfortable, and be brave enough to change your mind. I felt like a total failure when I admitted to myself that the first job I went into was not for me; I’d trained for it, paid to do that training, and spent a lot of time trying to do it, so changing my mind felt frightening and I was terrified of what people would think. But you know what? Nobody really cares. Your job is for you, and you are the one spending eight hours (or more!) a day doing it. Find what you love. You owe it to yourself!

The books I love:

:: The Wonder Spot by Melissa Bank – this is a brilliant novel about being a young woman and navigating the world of relationships. Set in the US, it will resonate with anyone who has ever turned their back on a friendship or a romantic relationship. Plus, it’s full of dry humour and great one-liners that will make you smile.

:: It’s Called A Break-Up Because It’s Broken by Amiira Ruotola-Behrendt and Greg Behrendt – this is SUCH a life-saving book if you’re going through a break-up, and I have given it to a lot of people! Written by a husband and wife (they weren’t always husband and wife, don’t worry) it’s hilarious, heartfelt and genuinely super helpful.

:: This Must Be The Place by Maggie O’Farrell – a beautifully written novel about family and place; this is one of her best.

:: Bark by Lorrie Moore – a collection of short stories that uses language in a really interesting way. She is the queen of the short story!

:: Girls in White Dresses by Jennifer Close – a book about friendship, love and what it means to grow up.

ABOUT PHOEBE MORGAN

Phoebe is commissioning editor at Harper Collins and a novelist. Her new book, The Doll House, is out now.  You can read more of Phoebe’s writing on her blog, here. 

Follow Phoebe on Twitter, here.

Main image photo credit: Freddie Marriage (via unsplash.com)

The post Writer Phoebe Morgan on How Her Love Affair With Books Became a Full-time Career appeared first on The Quarter Club.

I have had moments were I have struggled to do this, periods of hesitation or inaction where I have been too soft, too polite, laughed it off, buried it inside me. A lot of people may have the same difficulties with this, but it can be harder for women because it goes against the ideal of how we are supposed to behave. An ideal of womanhood built on history and films, on cultural norms and ideologies that run far deeper than our individual journeys. We don’t want to be a burden, be seen as aggressive or rude, to complain, be uncaring or, the ultimate trump card, to be called “too emotional”. An incredible friend sent me an email reflecting on the myth of sacrifice as the greatest nobility, an act often made by women for everybody else. This ideal needs to be denounced as to suppress any person’s emotional or physical needs has damaging effects on everyone. It is not a reasonable expectation, it is not the same as love or as mutually beneficial, reciprocated compromise where the goodness that follows means there was no sacrifice.

We have all been destabilised by thoughtless or difficult interactions. We know that our hair, our curves, our clothes and our level of ‘femininity’ do not negate our intelligence or our right for respect, but often judgement from others has already occurred unconsciously and started to get under our skin. We might have been walking along full of fabulous, sexy energy when one lazy heckle made us doubt ourselves. We might have been hurt by a guy who chatted all evening to our male friends about politics and art, but whose only engagement with us was to tease us about our appearance. We might have felt awkward when someone unexpectedly tried to kiss us at a party and then was taken aback when we did not want to, because “surely we knew where this was going.” We might look away when we observe that words from a male colleague are received with so much more recognition than our own, even when we know what we are saying is correct. Maybe someone we respect is treating women very unfairly and we cannot find a reason big enough to justify their actions. Maybe we were groped, flashed at, or masturbated at on public transport and we ran away in horror.

The scenarios are, unfortunately, plentiful. And all too often the result is still this: We say nothing even though we know we would feel better if we pointed it out. We say nothing because we suppose it is not really a big deal, or because we are afraid of being too boring, pessimistic or impolite. Because we think we have left it too late. Because we think it would contradict our earlier understanding. Because we question ourselves before questioning others. Because we have been taught to cross the road away from danger rather than to ask why that danger exists. Because often it is the normalisation of the inequality or bad behaviour, the confidence with which it is executed, that means we make excuses for others or hide away from our own discomfort. So we keep our frustrations inside us, thorns that niggle away and eventually stop us from sleeping.

We need to be ready to catch ourselves when this happens, to transcend unhelpful judgement or fear, and keep on speaking out and kicking ass. And women everywhere are doing just this. Women of all ages and backgrounds are being brave, resolute and true to themselves and to others. I celebrate you all for your sassy awesomeness, for oozing magnificent, no-nonsense confidence. Please continue to stand up for yourself and others, argue back when you have to, cry if you want to, reveal yourselves as the complex and fully rounded human beings that you are in the way that suits your needs most. If we all keep going, the world will have no choice but to accept this and make space for us. Perhaps we feel compelled to speak up in ways that men have always been permitted to, but still can be seen as shocking coming from a woman. Perhaps we convey our dissatisfaction and our pain with more emotion than is socially acceptable. But do not apologise for your tears, they are the honest, physical expression of your feelings. And obviously, the more men who get it, the more men who can really listen and genuinely make room for us, who understand sometimes it is hard and painful, who can join in the party, the better it will be. And some of them do get it, and even more are trying to.

And clearly it is not a binary decision to either be caring or to be strong. The very notion of strength and how this should be manifested can be oversimplified and used to disregard the bravery of exposing vulnerability or compassion. Actually, strength and assertion grown out of care or a desire to understand can be the most powerful combination of all. Of course, the idea that women should be free to be fierce as well as tender is pretty easy to support for lots of people, the ideas expressed here are far from new. But I still believe this needs to be spoken about, repeated again and again with new words and fresh determination. Firstly, because not everyone is onboard yet. Not everybody gets it. Not everyone sees that repression due to gender inequality is a real thing, a horrible weight in the stomach of many societies that is detrimental to all, something that needs to be undone.

Secondly, it is vital to keep these ideas bubbling at the surface because reminders are still helpful for those already seemingly up to speed, because it is surprisingly easy for there to be a disconnect between our values and our actions. It can take time and effort for these to line up. For all sexes. Sometimes we might not even notice the disparity, until one day it becomes so glaringly obvious we cannot believe we did not see it before. And clearly, speaking up is not always easy. Even for the best of us there are moments where being our strongest, truest selves just feels too difficult. So how can we help ourselves? For me the key lies in reaching outwards, in connecting with those who speak to our hearts and sense of self. No woman or man is an island and there is no shame in drawing on the support and wisdom of others to feel better and figure stuff out.

Tune in with people who are thinking in all kinds of unexpected, insightful ways and putting it into words, music and art. Devour books that transform your pain into fascination, allow their words to educate and empower you. Read about other women’s’ adventures, other people’s journeys. Hunt out remarkable, thoughtful films that capture the essence of how it really is. Films about people whose lives are totally different from your own, whose struggle and bravery lifts you out of your own confusion. Listen to powerful, joyful, heartbreaking, sexy music that makes you want to move every fibre of your beautiful body. Turn it up and dance through your fear. Go to exhibitions were artists have splashed their anguish and their love on the walls as things of beauty. Seek out shows: challenging cabaret, intelligent comedy, meaningful theatre. Be in the literal space with people whose energies are big, colourful and full of passion.

Find your personal tribe and embrace them. Make a habit of sharing any strange or uncomfortable public or personal experiences with trusted, key friends whose values are in sync with your own. This past couple of years I have been very lucky to have travelled a great deal and been exposed to all kinds of new situations and fresh faces. But, of course, not every interaction can be positive. Weird moments are inevitable no matter where we are. During this time of exploration, I have taken immense pleasure in sharing my experiences and feelings with some important, astonishing people in my life, by speedy, virtual means, and by catching up whenever I’m back home, discussing and laughing over wine and love. These meaty, delectable conversations where we get to the heart of the matter are dynamic rivers in continual flow, there to engulf ourselves in whenever we need them. And these special bonds do more than make me feel good. They also make me far more likely to act in a way that is in keeping with what I believe is acceptable, and to do so with confidence. I know I am not alone. We dissect the big and small issues we are facing together. We wade in without judgement, reflect from different angles, make jokes, forgive our own mistakes and try to give advice we would give our own daughter. We get to be indignant on the other’s behalf. We share in and thereby diffuse each other’s pain. We gain perspective on our own predicaments, our own outrage. We test and develop our values. And it can be so much fun! We are making sense of this world in all its madness together. These people, they really get it. Maybe I don’t even need to check in with the real them because I already know what to do. But I feel their weight behind me, trusting and loving me. And this gives me extra courage.

My final tip is to keep hopeful and stay joyful. I choose to see the good in others first, to be optimistic not cynical about humanity. I have been very fortunate in so many ways so far in my life, and I am sure this makes things much easier for me than for many. The world can be beautiful through smiling eyes! But this optimism can be a bit dangerous. The world is also very unequal, and pain, fear, insecurity or lack of awareness can cause people to take all manner of negative actions that have wide reaching repercussions. Not everyone has our best interests at heart, not every person we meet is striving to be as fair or kind as they possibly can. There are too many external factors that are working against this, too many triggers that can cause people to do cruel and selfish things, to lack imagination. We must accept this reality, recover from our disappointment and be bold in calling out behaviour that is not ok on every level we encounter it. So stay positive and considerate, but do not be naive.

But do not punish yourself if you did trust too freely. Do not be angry with yourself for being too gracious, too accepting, for having high expectations, for feeling deeply and being human. Your instincts were probably right, it is the world that has not quite caught up yet. Keep believing in goodness. Be resilient and self-loving so negative experiences do not crush you. Your compassion, charm, wit and good nature, these are still your super powers. Grow from hard moments but do not allow them to poison your blood, to sour your smiles, to stifle your laugher.

You are so much more than them.

The post Maria Askew on Strength and Having the Courage to Kick Ass appeared first on The Quarter Club.

I’d stare out of the window: stare from Kingston where the urban clot dissipates, all the way to deepest Surrey. The night stretched up and out. It wasn’t just that I was figuring out constellations- “How did they get a Ram and two Fish out of THOSE?”-as I learned more about the Solar System and space, I also started to think about Time. I was in the back seat of the Volvo and there were the stars; fixed points apparently. They had been fixed long enough to paint the same pictures for Neolithic visionaries and Spanish conquistadors; fixed through the trudging of the Glaciers and Continental Drift. I found out later that of course, they weren’t steady at all, but moving, living and dying. Travellers all in Time and Space we were: me, the Volvo, and those stars.

As a teenager, I was caught up by this idea that I was staring into their past, or even witnessing their death. The light from some of them had taken so long to travel to my eye, that the information it carried was like the most latent and tenuous pun. All upward gazers realise their smallness. The vastness of the sky is a shrink-ray that delivers context to us at times when we need to step away from the fray. Stargazing also compels us to Make Plans. Looking up, I’m reassured that however stumbling and cack-handed or however momentous and beautiful my achievements, nothing I could ever do would make those spheres chime differently. I still find this a comfort when I’ve lost perspective. The very best that could happen would be that my life, my star if you want to get Shakespearean- might somehow echo out a good story for longer than I would physically exist.

Perspective is essential for satisfaction. I’ve learned this only from spending long periods without either. First, perspective sorts out the terminal Perfectionist in us who’s the enemy of satisfaction. Some people wear their Perfectionism like a badge of recommendation, hoping that it will make us all stand in awe that they have ‘standards’. Don’t be fooled. Perfectionists are blocked and fearful and they need all the help they can get. Perfectionism wants to bludgeon creative endeavor but it’s disguised itself as the washboard- stomached Yummy Mummy of Doing Things Properly. Perfectionists hold the pillow over the face of their sleeping intrepid selves and whisper: “ if we can’t do it brilliantly, we’re not going to try. If we fail, we’re nobody”. That’s the clanging fatalism that Perfectionists live with: that being wrong is the worst thing that can happen to a person; that failure is the end. They can’t tolerate ‘works in progress’. It’s being all about the wedding day and never working on the marriage. It’s treating yourself and others like biological machines that will never ever break down, if you just tinkered, controlled and fixed them enough. Perfectionism tricks you into thinking that it’s all up to you and everybody’s watching. Don’t worry, it’s not and they aren’t.

A friend recently went to a talk on perfectionism in children at her daughter’s school and it prompted her to put herself into therapy. She realized how much and how insidiously her own chronic perfectionism had blocked her from investing in her talents. Satisfaction seems to be found on a journey inwards. It dwells in the personal bests, not the camera flash of public approval, or even peer recognition. With satisfaction, it really seems to hold true that it’s not the winning, it’s the taking part that counts. There’s so much pleasure in bothering to take ourselves on a journey, the ending is only part of the prize. I mean, have you ever read a good book?

On the Graham Norton Show, Matt Damon spoke about the night he won an Oscar for ‘Good Will Hunting’. He talks about that night after all the partying was done, being back home, alone with the Oscar: “I remember looking at that award and thinking “thank God I didn’t fuck anybody over for this!” Imagine chasing that and not getting it and then finally getting it in your 80s or 90s with all of life behind you- what an unbelievable waste of your…y’know what I mean?…It can never fill you up. It can never fill you up and I felt so blessed to have learned that at 27 cos I wouldn’t have known it otherwise.”

I’ve found Satisfaction very difficult to write about because I didn’t want to come across as diminishing the role ambition plays in achieving our dreams. But if winning an Oscar is supposed to be the dream of every actor, and winning one doesn’t “fill you up”, then what will?

Just doing the work, that’s all.

What comes after the stars and the night?

Another day, and then another.

Consider for moment that this story- your story might not have a beginning, a middle and an end. The interplay between beginnings and endings fascinates poets, philosophers and physicists alike, because they seem like they’re opposites, but often you realise how very quickly one can turn into the other and how alike they can be. I went out for a run with my son last week. I thought I’d go easy on him, I’m the adult and he’s the kid right? But I forgot that he’s nearly 13 now. He spent the whole time at least 10m ahead of me and I couldn’t catch him. Then I saw him round a corner and disappear. I felt a splash of worry, then embarrassment then so very happy because I thought, “well that’s just right! You should be faster and stronger and off you should go.” Remember those stars? He’s a part of my story echoing out when I have become just a story myself.

I think satisfaction is joy in perspective: you see there’s more to come, and you know what’s passed by and gone out of view. It’s a kind of wholeness. I don’t think that satisfaction has to mean stasis either- we don’t stop when we’re happy, it’s just that the path changed.

The post Pri Burford’s questioning #3: Satisfaction appeared first on The Quarter Club.

Going to a restaurant – what a treat eh? Nu-uh. Just you wait for the panic. Because there is SO MUCH YOU COULD HAVE. Yes I’m greedy, hands up to that one, but honestly how are you supposed to focus on any kind of lucid conversation when pages and pages of possibles from the menu stand in between you and your dining partner? There are, of course, ways to combat this – be aware that if I’m ever meeting you for lunch, I’ve already got my mitts on the menu beforehand. If I haven’t I’ll just go with what you’re having – gotta keep things under control and all. And this is all just mundane decision making – what about the heavy shit – jobs, life, love and all that? Luckily I’m part of an industry where you are often completely absolved of any decisions – but in the not-so -great way. As an actor you are often told who you are, or can pass for (tired, lonely lawyer – YUP right here!), and your agent is there to bat away questions like: ‘but if I sign this two month contract in Slough, I’ll be unavailable if Ken Loach calls ‘ – ‘Here’s the contract Saskia, sign it by the end of today’. ‘OK’. But in all seriousness, being part of an age and an industry where there is no set path to follow, or ladder to clamber up, means that making bold decisions is tough. You’re ultimately plunging yourself into the deep, dark, unknown and it can be thrilling, but it’s a lie if we don’t stand up and say that it can be scary.

And if you feel like me, you’re not alone. They say that the heart of unhappiness in the current age is too much choice. The world is open to us in a way that previous generations couldn’t possibly imagine – we can go anywhere, or do anything. Sod bucket lists – we have phone ‘Notes’, email drafts and notebooks scribbled with what we want to do, and finding time to do it all is nigh on impossible.

So considering all this – what happens when your life is pretty much thrown on its head and out of nowhere you have to make the BIGGEST decision to date? What happens when there’s no escape, when the decision isn’t something you can flag to deal with later? It’s always when you least expect it, that’s what they say, but I thought that was when a real handsome, intelligent, funny Joaquin Phoenix lookalike waltzes into your life. Not when you fall pregnant, unexpectedly (and you’re definitely old enough to know better). On top of this you have absolutely no idea until you have all seven tests lined up on the floor next to a near empty litre bottle of Evian, and a row of those two little perfectly parallel lines are staring back at you. Not forgetting the premium test that so kindly tells you the amount of weeks pregnant you are, letting you know that this really shouldn’t be new news.

Well obviously there are some signs – the most obvious being the lack of your period. But I’m not alone amongst my friends in the fact that my periods are irregular and have been for a while, thanks to the chopping and changing of birth control, the stress that London living puts on my body, and I guess my genes (thanks MUM). I’d also been riding a pretty death-defying emotional rollercoaster in the weeks leading up to test-day, but I’d been in a job that had been getting me down, working completely unsociable hours and not seeing my pals, so that kinda made sense. I was also, clearly, out of tune with my own body wearing my ‘busyness’ around like a badge of honour and using it to explain away all the problems. Anyway, Bev Knight sung it straight, shouldja wouldja couldja, and all that – none of it really matters when you’re faced with the test results (my sister is THE most intelligent person I know but also told me when I called her in panic from the toilet ‘meh they’re probably not right anyway’- turns out they’re 99.9% accurate, thanks Chloe **in her defense she now claims that she was completely in shock and felt like it was happening to her…) Apparently you should only ever go to the doctors for a pregnancy test if it’s saying ‘no, definitely no little babies in here’ and you are much more in tune with your body than I was. If it says you’re pregnant, you pretty much definitely are.

Now came the days of trouble. Luckily I was incredibly fortunate to be in a very loving relationship with someone who I had, since the moment we met, seen lodged very securely in some kind of future. And who, as that fateful night proved, was very much on the same page as me – after having thrown the pee sticks at him when I got back from work (oh yeah I’d done the first tests in a disabled toilet in the theatre I was performing at – a word of advice: maybe just wait until you’re at home or something yeah?), his immediate response was: ‘shall we get more tests?’ But deciding what to do with this new information was not clear-cut for us. And that feels dirty to voice, especially as I know of so many people close to us, as well as countless stories I’ve heard or read, about people who are absolutely desperate for those two little lines to pop up. And the heart-wrenching pain that comes through it not happening, or the pregnancy not working out. I can’t even imagine how one could cope with that.

But for us, having kids anytime soon was not part of any plan. We were both in the middle of acting jobs, had spent most of our earnings on booze and breakfasts for the last few years and, at that time, barely had any space of our own (we were living in a shared house). Yes all arguably very selfish reasons, but up until that exact point in time, I’d only ever really had to think about me, so it was pretty natural. So, rather than being flooded with joy at the results, I was, I must admit, more numb than anything. Perhaps it was my brain subconsciously aware that in this haze of fear I was going to have to make a decision one way or the other – very much against my nature. Or was it just the fact that this was really fucking massive?

Straight after we’d gone to the doctors the next morning (for now our 8th test), I ran off to meet a great pal for brunch – convincing myself that it had been booked for ages and that I REALLY NEEDED TO GO, OK. I sat down opposite her, no doubt coming across as incredibly wired, before blurting out what had happened. Luckily she’s an incredible human being and an absolutely beautiful friend. She listened, comforted and agreed that we could go for scrambled over poached (oh the fun of what I could and couldn’t eat was just beginning), and mostly made things seem a lot more real and manageable – for these reasons I’ll always love her to the moon and back.

What followed over the next few days was a lot of talking, thinking and list-writing. Yes we were incredibly lucky that we were able to make this baby, we could both recognize that (my boyfriend, Jonny, certainly had a few moments of shoulder-shimmying and pursed smug lips – he was a man who’d just discovered that his little guys are a fighting force, after all). But it would have been irresponsible not to have considered every side of what was happening and leave no stone unturned. We had to know that whichever way we went with this, that it was not in haste; that our decision was informed and considered. Getting headspace from London was a massive help and is now something that I would absolutely swear by. Changing up your environment even if it’s just getting up away from your desk and going for a wander will give you a touch more perspective and, without doubt, a clearer head. For us it was a night away in Eastbourne (oh the glamour of the British seaside in October!). So, we shut ourselves away in our hotel room, made use of the free hotel stationary and covered the bed with our thoughts. One thing that this time showed me was that lists are not just a useful way to get your thoughts into some kind of coherent sentences, but they are also a true signifier of what you want to do. Of course you can always find a positive to outweigh a negative – you can just keep on going and going until the imbalance of the list reads in the way you want it to. By the by, the same theory can be adopted in tossing a coin: if you can’t decide between two things, find a coin, toss it in the air, and listen to your reaction when the answer is revealed – DONE. And our lists worked as an incredible force for revealing what we truly wanted.

We read what the thoughts were all saying, then went to get some dinner. We came back, still feeling the same, and decided to sleep on it. We woke up the next day, confirmed that we still felt exactly the same, and made the choice to actually make the decision (and then see how we felt – and yes, the answer was exactly the same). Sometimes, big, bold choices in your life are great – on the spot YES’s or NO’s are exhilarating and feel powerful. But there is no shame in letting a decision settle in and figuring out your response as you go. If we needed a sign that we had made the right choice, the seagull that defecated right into the centre of my forehead the moment we left the hotel (a constipated old sod who launched his excrement like a luminous yellow pellet, leaving a little bruise on my head for the rest of the day) was perhaps a good one to go by.

So yes, we decided to keep the baby – now known as peanut to our friends and family – and I’m now approaching my 30th week of pregnancy (another thing that no one told you about, everyone chats in weeks the moment you get preggers- because in truth you’re actually pregnant for 10 months – WHO KNEW). Yes it hasn’t been all sunshine and butterflies – the weeks after we made the decision and kept it quiet weren’t always times of the kind of giddy excitement that you see on TV – sure there were happy moments, but they were still punctuated with tears, panics and nightmares. Even now I get pangs of sadness at how much I fear I am going to miss out on as the rest of my friends carry on as we were before. And let me tell you something right now – non-alcoholic beer just doesn’t cut it. Don’t even get me started on Schloer. But, not for one second have I regretted the decision Jonny and I made. And thank fuck the maternal instinct has kicked in. The first scan – prior to this everything was still shrouded in disbelief – left me gasping for air and fighting through teary eyes as the screen jumped to life, revealing our tiny little dancer giving it some for the camera. And it has only gotten stronger as peanut has grown (s/he is currently the size of a Pineapple, according to my pregnancy app), started kicking and getting hiccups after I eat certain foods (silly bugger).

DECISION as our new theme is therefore one that sits very close to my heart right now. Firstly, I know that whatever decision we had made would have been the right one for us. I just hope that if we had gone the other way I would have had the courage to write a piece in response to the theme. I think that’s what it boils down to, whatever method you use to make a decision (be it fast or taking your sweet time), it’s all part of the process and it’s all completely RIGHT for you. Do the things that will help turn the volume down on the background noise – I am a huge advocate for getting out or going for a massive walk. Swimming is also a good one. And if all else fails, make a list – it will tell you exactly what you’re thinking, before you’re even aware you’re thinking it.

The post Saskia muses on this Quarter’s new theme: Decision appeared first on The Quarter Club.

What is wrong with your industry?

What do you hate about your job?

If I asked these questions of all the brilliant women in my life- especially those working on a freelance basis in arts and media- I wouldn’t be short on answers.

I’m an actor, so I am totally allowed to say that actors- excellent as they are- love a good moan. Whenever I meet up with thespy chums to sink a glass (bottle/bottles/delete as appropriate), the night inevitably descends to the airing of grievances: issues of fairness, representation and fulfilment crop up an awful lot. We all bemoan the lack of opportunity, the amount of time we spend not doing what we trained to do.

My head would probably implode without these sessions, moaning is necessary, for sure. But- a little voice in my head sometimes asks-couldn’t you do more than moan? Couldn’t you try and change something, even if it’s just something small?

I tend to just shush this little voice, drown it with wine, so when Rebecca Durbin- a friend from university and a fellow actor-decided to do something, I sat up and took notice. Becs Durbs had graduated from the prestigious RWCMD, moved to London and was frustrated by the lack of opportunities available to her as a recent acting graduate. Like so many of us, she didn’t want to sit around waiting for auditions to come in. PLAY was born of this frustration.

The idea is pretty darn simple: four writers, four directors, ten actors, two weeks, and, at the end, four brand new plays. PLAY gives creative people an opportunity to make work and forge connections. I can’t quite express how important it has been for me.

PLAY started at a community space in South London last June. On the hottest Friday of the year, over one hundred people packed in to watch PLAYs 1-4. In September PLAYs 5-8 were performed at the Old Red Lion.

I was a proud cast member at both venues and I just bloody loved doing them. It was such a thrill to be in a room with like-minded creatives, and to have audiences respond so warmly to our work. It reminded me why I had decided to train as an actor.

Next up we are excited- and a bit terrified- to be presenting PLAY at the 2016 VAULT Festival. Thirty-six actors, writers and directors will be making PLAYs 9-12 in January and 13-16 in February. It is massive step up for the company.

I’m totally biased, but I do think they make for a super night at the theatre; there’s something exciting about watching something new, and this is super new work. The script will only have been finalised days before and the actors will be on the tips of their toes. It is also short, which, let’s be honest, is A Good Thing. Four plays of just fifteen minutes each make for a night of varied, speedy and (hopefully) engaging theatre.

So, basically, I’d love you to come see PLAY. I think you’ll like it, because it’s good. But- more importantly- I would like to give you a gentle kick up the bum: don’t stop moaning, moaning is great. But perhaps you could have a moan and then do something. Being part of PLAY has inspired me, made me realise that I can make change happen.

And- Quarter Clubbers- you so can too. Go forth and… make stuff better.

The post Kat Drury on Why We All Need To Play appeared first on The Quarter Club.

2. What does a day in the life of you look like?

The post Wai Foong Ng, Founder Of Suit & Pie On Making The Most Of The Weekend appeared first on The Quarter Club.

“It’s hard to have a tough skin and a vulnerable heart…it’s kind of…it’s a delicate balance…”

I would say this is true for anyone attempting to navigate a creative career. Without the vulnerable open heart forget being a good creative. Without the tough skin forget surviving in the creative industries.

My final year at Drama School was a cacophony of jealousy, self-doubt, FOMO and crying out “why though?!” about everything…oh and sympathy cheesy chips. This was the late 90s, when grown women were still allowed to have pubic hair and we openly ate pasta.

Even though we were a close-knit year, we lost our footing. Our world got very small and in the midst of our fierce loyalties to each other, there crept in a kind of cold reductive scrutiny. We’d become aware that’s how The World was considering us; we were at the very start of becoming Products. It felt necessary and wrong at the same time.

I’ve noticed it’s what happens at the tension point when a process is subjugated to the product it generates. The end work becomes more of a focus than how you got there and qualitative and quantitative measures clash. It’s an intriguing and deeply challenging development phase that creative business ventures go through- but they must go through it because no professional creative can avoid addressing the marketplace-‘bums on seats’. At some point, you’re saying “this hand-crafted artisan 3 malt Heritage outdoor-reared organic actor is incredible, but how can we maximize her net worth?”

Suddenly, game change. We all fall down. We have a crisis of confidence, of identity. For a time confusion reigns and we lose ourselves- doing crazy shit like watching ‘Don’t Tell the Bride’ and eating actual crisps made of Kale. In my experience, when we lose our sense of balance, it means the centre has shifted and we don’t know where zero is anymore. To have some concept of equilibrium, there has to be a pivot point, a fulcrum. In short, you have to hold on to your values. If you don’t know what your values are, I’d like to gently but firmly suggest you think about getting some. Knowing your values =knowing your worth.

At Drama School, for 3 years we’d been artists and that alone. We were judged by artistic criteria, not bankability. Like it or not, the growth in influence of marketing departments within creative organisations like publishing houses has got to be the weirdest development in the already obstacle-strewn route to being a creative professional. It doesn’t matter how riveting your story is, if they don’t think they can sell it, they won’t make it, they’ll make ‘Terminator12: What Happened Before The Last Stuff Happened The Time Before That Before Time Itself’ instead.

That’s the thing now, you can’t just be good at what you do, you have to be good at selling the thing you’re good at. If you don’t have some values, you’ll make the terrible mistake of doing what I did, which is let other people tell you what kind of artist you should be. The balancing act in this respect is to keep the kernel, the heart of what you hold to be excellence in your field whilst making it float happily in a sea of mediocrity.

By the way, people WILL get jealous. They just will. The more dismal end of the press will tell you that most of the jealousy will come from other women, but actually it could be anyone. I think jealousy is fine, by the way. Like Anger, it’s part of the human emotional spectrum and it serves an important purpose: it’s an alarm. Julia Cameron in her wonderful book ‘The Artist’s Way’ explains it like this when she writes about Anger:

“Anger is meant to be listened to. Anger is a voice, a shout, a plea, a demand…Anger is our friend. Not a nice friend. Not a gentle friend. But a very, very loyal friend. It will always tell us when we have been betrayed. It will always tell us when we have betrayed ourselves. Anger is not the action itself. It is action’s invitation.”

I feel jealousy is similar. It’s the part of ourselves that we at some point allowed to be cowed. The bit we didn’t let out to play. When we’ve spent a lot of time and energy denying ourselves, or being people pleasers, seeing somebody who is free and who has the audacity to be themselves without shame is almost unbearable. They remind us of everything we could have done and had if we just let ourselves. Jealousy is a heart’s cry from something inside that needs to be addressed in a mature and gentle way or it festers into bitterness and aggression. Trying to find balance (and peace) of mind whilst leaving feelings of jealousy unexplored? Then it’s you on one side of the see-saw and you with all your demons at the other.

The post Pri Burford’s Questionings #2: Jealousy appeared first on The Quarter Club.

1. Tell us about you – what motivates you?

Other people. My company is run collaboratively which means we create our shows as an ensemble and also make company decisions collectively. This is a challenging and intensely satisfying way of working. My colleagues provoke me in all sorts of surprising ways! Having other people around to generate ideas with in the rehearsal room and to manage the practical side of running a company means I am continuously asked to consider different view points and find answers together. It is not always easy, but I have learned so much about theatre making through this shared process. For me it is about putting the work first, over ego or personal doubt, and finding a voice together. I am constantly learning.

Then, in a larger sense, the world we live in. Theatre is simply my response to some of what I observe and feel around me. And when audiences come along and share in what we have created, showing such understanding and joy, it is a truly incredible feeling.

Teaching students is also a very motivating aspect of my life. The students’ questions and courage make me want to share all I can and challenge them just like I have been challenged so far in my theatrical education. It is wonderful to be able to exchange my findings with their refreshing energy and varied outlooks on the world.

2. What does a day in the life of you look like?

Well, being a freelance performer and running my own theatre company means no day is ever the same! When I am touring a show, the day will probably be dominated by traveling, teching and performing. Another day might be completely different- I could be on a shoot working on someone else’s project, which can be a lovely change of rhythm and way of creating. Many days are focused on administration, meetings and general ‘faffing’. I enjoy the flexibility of working my own hours from home or perhaps in a cafe. It also means I can meet up with other freelancers, who often have similarly random schedules. Then in my free time, I love to be with friends, read, have dinners, see shows, go dancing – all these activities are very important to me too!

3. What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever done?

This question is so difficult! People sometimes say it’s very courageous to get up onstage and perform, but actually for me that can be one of the easier parts of my life! I love it. Moving to Paris to live alone and study at Jacques Lecoq Theatre School was definitely a very intimidating and brave move for me. And I am so glad I made that choice as it was a great adventure and has helped shape who I am today. But I also think my true moments of courage have been when I have allowed myself to be vulnerable and completely honest both in my professional and personal life, and being able to say words like ’I need help’ or ’I love you’ have all been part of this!

4. What does Balance mean to you in your life?

For me, balance has a lot to do with accepting what is. If I feel like I need to address the balance in how my days are spent and change something then generally I have the power to to do so, but if I don’t want to or feel I can’t then it is really about embracing the moment. It is good to remember that actually the world won’t fall apart if something doesn’t happen when or how I’d like it too- I am not that important, no one is! Life is a journey not an end point and I am enjoying the ride!

5. Who is your role model and why?

My mum. She is a one of the wisest women I know and has always been a source of inspiration for me. She came over to the UK from Ecuador many years ago and works as an oncologist in Bristol. She has affected many people’s lives through her wisdom and kindness, and is strong, courageous role model. A great deal of my strength and values come from her. My mum’s support of my choices has enabled me to study, travel, move abroad, set up my own company and ultimately find my own path, even when it seemed uncertain.

6. What’s the most inspiring thing you’ve read, seen or done in the last month?

Well, I spent the last month of August performing my show Jurassic Park at the Edinburgh Fringe festival and, while I was there, I saw some very inspirational theatre shows. One of these shows was a piece called K’rd Strip: A Place to Stand by a New Zealand based company Okareka Dance. The show is based on Karangahape road, a red light district area in Auckland, and the male prostitution scene that surrounds it. What it inspired me most about this show was that it felt very honest, relevant and brave, as well as totally unique and unapologetic in its form (a blend of cabaret, drama, Māori dance and comedy). The piece had me laughing one moment then with tears streaming down my face the next, and I love shows that achieve this dynamic! But the whole month at the Edinburgh fringe was a very inspiring and humbling experience. I met many brave companies and individuals putting on all sorts of work. If you haven’t been, I recommend checking it out

The post Maria Askew, Superbolt Theatre, Discusses Collaborative Working appeared first on The Quarter Club.

“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style” – Maya Angelou

Being self-employed or working as a creative freelancer can be an intensely satisfying way of working, but it can also be difficult, uncertain and isolating. Not being a full-time employee of an organisation can mean you find yourself lacking structure, stability and human support. Yet having a flexible schedule and doing something you are truly passionate about is a luxury that not everybody is able to have, even if they wanted to. My work has exposed me to many environments, people and ideas I would never otherwise have experienced. It has demanded that I be brave, resilient, confident and adaptable. Here is my advice on satisfaction and work based on my discoveries so far.

BE USEFUL

Identify ‘being useful to others’ as a key motivation in your work and place it at the heart of what you do. You can interpret this in countless ways and apply it on a variety of levels. Take the time to consider why you are doing what you are doing and reflect on its impact on others. Sometimes being useful might actually mean not doing something that has negative repercussions. Assuming responsibility as part of a collective humanity and contributing positively to others locally and/or on a global scale can help you to develop a sense of purpose that makes challenges worth overcoming and keeps you motivated. Being useful can help counter negative feelings such as those of futility or emptiness common to society today and is key to developing a sense of deep-rooted satisfaction.

SHARE

Approach your work with a philosophy of collaboration over competition. This might seem to contradict aspects of the education you have received or the capitalist structure you work in where emphasis is often placed on individual success and financial competition, but the notion of “every man for himself” has proved deeply problematic, perpetuating wealth inequality and leaving many people feeling isolated and unsupported. By transcending this notion it is possible to find yourself navigating a kinder, more provocative and ultimately more productive shared space. Reach out to other freelancers and people in your field, meet them for coffee, chat through ideas, work on projects together. Share your own plans, concerns and revelations generously.

Evidently, if you make your plans known, you are far more likely to meet people who want to collaborate with you. Being open rather than fearful or overprotective of your own projects can help you to be calmer and more enthusiastic about your work, and give you a sense of being part of something larger than yourself. Sometimes you might feel like you don’t fit into standardised ideas of how you are supposed to work and live (you are not the only one with this feeling, we are more complex than a statistic or a character in a Disney movie), and it is through speaking out and offering alternative narratives that over-simplified perceptions can be deconstructed. Sharing your story might make a huge difference to someone else who has been struggling. Supporting other people’s work will lead to people supporting yours. Sharing and collaborating can combat feelings of loneliness and leave you feeling more excited, inspired and satisfied.

LIVE WELL

Your professional life does not exist in a vacuum (and with freelancers especially the lines between when you are working and when you are not are often blurred) so for complete satisfaction it is helpful to consider your overall outlook and lifestyle beyond that of your work life. There is a lot of advice out there on living well, some of it very useful, but take care that the opinions of others do not make you feel anxious about the way you are living your life currently. It is easy to criticise ways of life that differ greatly from our own, but everyone’s circumstances are different and what works for one person does not necessarily apply to someone else. You will figure out what works for you.

Ultimately, learning to accept what is, regardless of your level of success or life situation, is a great way to ensure long-lasting satisfaction. I am not saying you shouldn’t care about things or try to initiate change (go for it, be passionate!), rather it is about finding a calm, accepting state from where everything else can unfold. If you can live in the present and embrace the reality of each moment then you will not be relying on external factors, people or achievements, in order to feel complete. They will be adding to your enjoyment, not controlling your well-being or giving you your sense of self.

There are some good books and apps out there that can help you to mediate your way to this point and simply being aware of this idea can be helpful. You are not defined by your work, so cherish every moment, whether you are doing laundry or holding a loved one. Take care of your body and be physically engaged, remember you are not just a walking brain. Leave enough space in your schedule for a good night’s sleep (but if you can’t sleep don’t worry about it- it is still totally possible to nail an interview / give a great talk/ perform a show on 0 – 4 hrs). Discover new people and places. Be curious and brave in your explorations. Have meaningful conversations. Have times when you don’t check your phone. Learn to enjoy being by yourself. Read. Spend time with the people you love, the people who revitalise and inspire you. Do things because they are fun. Laugh.

The post Maria Askew On Satisfaction and Work appeared first on The Quarter Club.