I’m nearly at the end of the notebook I started back in January and inscribed with ‘Early writings for Jeu Jeu la Foille’s New Thing.’ Later on this year I added underneath ‘A show about defeating a monster.’ I’m not sure if it’s about that anymore, I don’t know what the new thing is about. The notebook began sensibly enough - with lists - but it’s recently devolved into my usual ranting space. The pages in between have all the poems. I’ve written three more pieces since the last blog, and three short monologues - in French. It turns out that a book I’ve needed to read for some time finally found me (see title), and this inspired me to write something in French, and to explore the idea of protest. I have set myself a very difficult task if I want to perform this successfully. I gave my new character, with the beginnings of a costume, an introduction at Poetry Platform this month. It was a bit of a disaster, but I promised to get better. A friend in the audience told me that I spoke French with an Italian accent....
Full ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ came back to life on June 1st, and though I was nervous as hell for the first ten minutes, and it was hot and sweaty, I got through it and I couldn’t be happier. The audience were mostly the friends of FAP in the Attic, and many had performed already that day. I have a lot of respect for these people, and I didn’t want to let them down. I also had my youngest ever audience member that day; an eight year old girl, who attends FAP regularly with her Dad. I have an age guidance of 16+ for ‘adult themes’ as although it’s harmless enough (I think) it’s not really a show for the kiddies. The girl held up the brain model during the lobotomy demonstration, she was thrilled, as was I.

The full show runs at 50 minutes, I’m happiest with this trimmed version, it’s tighter and less fussy than me trying to stretch to an hour. As I was rehearsing for this performance, I found myself comparing the writing in Frontal Lobotomy to what I’m working on now. My new stuff feels more confident and less clunky somehow, but I am still very fond of rhyming. I’ve popped my head up at a few poetry open mics recently, and it feels very different to be holding my words in a folder, wearing ‘normal’ clothes. No one is getting covered in lipstick at these events, and in an odd way it seems this is what I’m known for now; a trail of (consenting) victims, myself included.

I have incorporated a prop into one of my pieces of writing. Last November I was lucky enough to meet the writer Tom Sharp at a Halloween party. During one of his spooky poems we passed around a smooth wood carving of a raven. I was taken by this idea of something tactile for the audience to experience alongside the words, and liked the low-level, non-threatening participation. It was probably in January, during a discussion on how the media portrays women in one of my Freedom Program sessions that a woman from the group said “Barbie is such a slut!” Me being me, I piped up with something along the lines of “Well I saw a documentary on Barbie not long ago. When she was originally made it was because before then little girls only had pretend babies and kitchens to play with. Barbie was the first adult doll made, she had loads of jobs, Barbie is aspirational!” I wasn’t all that interested in playing with dolls as a kid, and I think I’ve always been slightly suspicious of the idea of Barbie into adulthood. But here I was defending her. And so I did some research into Barbie, with the question in my head; Who taught us to be threatened by Barbie? I found out about her jobs, pets, education, relationships, height and weight, and I tell the audience these things while they pass around my naked Barbie-doll prop. I keep adding to this section, and I like to say it through a microphone if available - I don’t usually use a mic in any performances, but it feels right for this part. The last time I performed this monologue, a woman in the audience plaited Barbie’s hair for her.

I have a performance at The Art House in Southampton, as part of Moving Voices at the end of this month, where I’ll be doing a half hour version of Frontal Lobotomy. And on July 10th me, Bobby Cool and the band are off to London, to perform as part of Clout! for Studio 3 Arts in Barking. Then I’ll be reading naked with wonderful women on July 25th at Fontaines, again in London. The theme for this Naked Girls Reading is ‘Trash Fiction’, and I’ve chosen two extracts (not my writing!) that are very funny and very filthy. As ever, I’m proud to be part of the naked club. My body, my choice, and all that.



I’ll say goodbye to you for now with a new poem. Is it sad? I find it sad.
JJ xx



Where will I go?



The front door is painted white

We live at number one
A crunchy pathway running alongside
Overshadowed by a pylon


The hallway is so narrow
We can’t fit more than two
Shrilling phone on the wall, treacherous stairs
It echoes everywhere you go


There is a table laid for four
We always have some mess
The gap dividing houses closes over the years
Replaced with a slab of wood, crumbling step


The vocal chords of the house are there
And we have little privacy
Those three walls have stories to tell
The shabby windows say it publicly


The garden goes on for miles and miles
Stopped by a tin shed
The bones of passed on pets slowly sink
And rotten cooking apples play dead


There is a constant dripping tap
The floorboards don’t dare creak
The open fire leaves dust in every splinter
The roof is just starting a 20 year leak


The front bedroom tempts me with perfume and high heels
The middle room is warm and dark
Our bedroom is only accessible by passing
Through a portal into Narnia


It’s the place we can escape to
When the shouting gets too loud
A multiverse can be created with bunk beds and wardrobes
Just wish the toilet wasn’t all the way down


I can fit inside that drawer
I’ll roll you up in a quilt
Let’s pretend to be radio dj’s
You’ve ruined another perfectly good story
Steps on stairs indicate guilt is coming this way
Let’s pretend we didn’t hear


Passing the baton of blame
The vocal chords gone slack
The house heaves a sigh of relief
The dust settles, the sticky soup of secrecy sucks back

I want to this blog to be about my creative process again. I feel like it’s become too focused on my inner world and outer issues, and not really connected to my output...which has been sorely lacking. Although my fifteen-minute version of ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ was a hit for a small but appreciative audience on a snowy afternoon earlier this month! And it’s being unleashed again at Chaplins Cellar Bar in Boscombe this Tuesday. So no one is safe. And I’m thrilled to be performing the full show again on June 1st at my spiritual of the The Railway in Winchester. A quick annoying plug there.! When I’ve read back my morning pages from last year I’ve sometimes been annoyed by my own voice. And I try to reassure myself that it’s ok; I’m clearing the debris, floundering in the fog...It’s ok to be rusty. I find that writing on this public platform helps me chip away at what has been nagging at me, but in a crafted and proof-read way. And that in itself is a creative process.

For me there is nothing better for blowing off the cobwebs than taking part in a three day theatre workshop, and I’m grateful to ‘past me’ for having the wherewithal to book up for Peta Lily’s ‘Alchemy of Archetypes’ - which happened last week. Peta’s opening question for our group of twelve was that if we had a magic wand or ‘stick of curiosity’, what would we want to have appear or be led towards by the end of our three days together? We answered individually, and I was so touched by the responses. Mine was that I NEEDED TO KNOW what I was going to write about in the new show I WAS DESPERATELY TRYING TO WRITE. I didn’t shout, but I think my frustration was clear, as a few of the participants (we soon became good friends) approached me to ask about the show I WAS TRYING TO WRITE. Why have I not learned by now that I don’t NEED TO KNOW anything? I knew I was doing the workshop for fun and laughter and connection, and I got plenty! We explored nine mythical archetypes using movement, masks and voice, they were; Mother, Child, Trickster, Fool, Devil/Lucifer, Lover/Romantic, Death, Crone and Hero. Each archetype has a centre or physical focus, and a mantra that they can repeat internally and externally to create an overall ‘feeling.’ What struck me about how the workshop was structured was how well Peta built in opportunities for us to check in with ourselves and each other throughout the process, allowing us to give each other bits of feedback and encouragement. This was important as the work was experimental and often felt quite otherworldly and heightened. I felt challenged, but never unsafe. The importance of feeling over knowing was with me throughout. And since then, the dreams I knew I was having but couldn’t remember, are hanging around for a bit longer in the morning. 

There was a particular archetype I had in the back of my mind, and it wasn’t on the list above. I wondered if there would be something in one or several of the masks that would help me encapsulate it neatly, write from it freely; all the while keeping the veneer of my carefully constructed Jeu Jeu la Foille character, so audiences would never know how ‘true’ my writing actually is. A good friend who has seen ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ several times asked me recently how much of me was in that show. It was a difficult question to answer, because it’s all me and also nothing to do with me. I remembered last week that I’d unknowingly worked with archetypes for that show; they were reoccurring characters from Tom Waits songs, and the all the costumes I switch between during the hour represent them, visually at least. Those costume changes became the arc; my background in burlesque saw to that, where in a sense the costume IS the narrative. Anyone who has ever rehearsed a strip-tease act knows that it’s ten per cent artfully getting undressed, and ninety per cent grumpily, fussily and fumbily getting dressed again and again. What the costume is, and how and in which order it is removed, and most importantly WHY, is the whole point...otherwise keep it on and do something else. An afterthought on editing this is; Maybe the WHY is that you love your body and want others to see how much you love your body? I yo-yo’d between scrawny and somewhat ‘fleshier’ throughout the time I was regularly doing burlesque gigs. I panicked over not fitting into my costumes which I either couldn’t afford to replace, or didn’t have time to remake. But whatever shape I was in, whatever I thought of myself that day, the audience still got a performance. Shit went wrong all the time, and I always made it difficult for myself with thousands of props. Looking back I was incredibly sloppy, or nervous. But I mostly got away with it because I was often ‘the funny one’ in a line up of Glamazons!

The archetype of Lucifer has a mantra; it’s, ‘I am beautiful, and I can do whatever I want.’ I found playing this archetype very special, but I chose to play the Trickster mask in the final part of the workshop, I needed his energy back in my life! Lucifer’s mantra I can use to help with the sloppiness and nervousness. I’m not getting rid of the props.

In truth the archetype that has been nagging away at me, is far messier and grotesque than I would like. Everything thing I’ve written so far for this elusive new show seems to have a glaring trigger warning or health advice,  “CAUTION: MAY INDUCE CRYING IN READER.” So, I needed to know the path I was on with this, and whether it was worth my sanity to persevere. Plus, funding applications, ugh. They need a description. I wrote the ‘blurb’ for ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ before I’d finished writing the show, but a ‘blurb’ for what I’m working on I just cannot see. Ugh.

I am halfway through a course called The Freedom Programme. It’s based on a book by Pat Craven calling ‘Living with the Dominator.’ The course is for domestic abuse survivors, and the Dominator character is an abusive man. It’s very gendered, though recognises that domestic abuse is a broad and complex crime. All of the people on my course are women, whose perpetrators are men. The Domestic Abuse Bill is currently going through Parliament, and you can read the draft proposal that begins with the statutory definition online.
​
The Dominator is the Archetype, but ‘he’ has several different ‘masks’ which characterise certain behaviours or tactics. These are; The Bully, The Badfather, The Headworker, The Jailer, The Sexual Controller, The King of the Castle, The Liar and The Persuader. The Dominator puts rules in place to control their ‘submissive.’ These rules constantly change, and so do the tactics to keep them in place. Not always, but often the Dominator resorts to physical violence when the constantly changing ‘rules’ aren’t obeyed. Even as I write this I’m making notes in the little book to my left on how each ‘mask’ might be physically represented or played....see....this blog....creative process...ha! As well as the Dominator masks, are the counter-masks; The Lover, The Partner, The Goodfather, The Truthteller, The Negotiator, The Confidence-Booster, The Liberator and The Friend. “Not a Saint that we are seeing, just a Decent Human Being.” So the Decent Human Being is also an Archetype...? I also started thinking about the female other to the Dominator, and arrived  - perhaps too quickly  - at Dominatrix, and was reminded of a conversation I overheard, where one person was saying to the other that she knew of a dominatrix who made her clients read feminist literature out loud in their sessions....and I thought back to ‘The Scum Manifesto’ and the latest series of ‘American Horror Story.’ Could this character be recalled like the Doctor is in ‘Frontal Lobotomy’? In any case this is whole rabbit hole of research (nice choice of words?) that is completely out of my comfort zone, but then again, so was brain surgery! 

A few weeks ago my mind was spinning, and not with juicy creative thoughts, but horrible paranoid, and often violent flashes of panic. With what took seemingly colossal effort, I wrote the following poem. It’s new and raw and came from a place of desperation. But I felt better as soon as I started writing it that night, and so I’ll leave you with it.

The rules of the game are
We play until you lose
You’ll do what I say
Come when I call
The rules at school don’t change
Mine do
I’ll tell you stories about demons and ghouls
Until you obey my rules
The rules are
They aren’t the rules
Until I say it’s cool
Fool
As a rule of thumb
You’ll lose if you ignore
The Rules
The the sake of your soul 
You better follow my rules
Don’t spread the news
About you breaking my rules
I refuse to excuse
My need of these rules
Your ignorance of the rules
Only fuels my desire to crush you
Cruel woman
Have you any idea
How much?
I love you

​Xxx

Photo credit: Gemma Betts 2012

I was a mostly silent clown for several years, and my reaction to that was to make a show that was nearly all words. Now it's all about the linguistic acrobatics. I 'proclaimed' during an audience feedback session on Monday night at the Cockpit Theatre, that there was nothing shocking, revolutionary or empowering about a woman taking her clothes off onstage. Was it better when I just got my boobs out and said nothing? That was a rhetorical question. I've read yet another feminist journalists response to the Emma Watson boob fiasco this morning, and I'm feeling snippy. There was a famous burlesque performer called Gypsy Rose Lee who recited poetry while stripping, and in doing so made potent commentary on the male gaze. Did/would anyone actually pay attention to the words? Or would we all be too distracted by the flesh, the artful disrobing and cheeky knowingness of this gorgeous woman to notice the power in her subversiveness? The uneventful striptease I do happens early on in 'Frontal Lobotomy', almost like I want to get it over with, and move onto something more useful. A friend who saw the show in Leeds recently (this is someone I trained at LISPA with, and who saw Jeu Jeu doing her 'Crossroads' act in Edinburgh 2015, so they know my work in context) said the semi-nude section was important because of how I don't 'make a big deal out of it' - "Yeah, we've all seen flesh before, we know about burlesque, let's move on from that, and do something more interesting with it." Certainly the nudity in Frontal Lobotomy is intended to be more about being exposed and vulnerable; 'stripping away the layers of reasoning to that which is unknowable'. It's definitely a post-burlesque show for me, I loved making and performing Jeu Jeu's funny skits, but in giving her a voice, I've made her a grown up. She'll be 6 years old on April 1st, and I'm celebrating her birthday this year for the first time, almost as if I've finally acknowledged her existence, and need to ritualise it somehow. More and more I find myself consulting her when I need to make creative decisions.

A comment from the Theatre in the Pound audience on Monday night, was that my stance on frontal lobotomies and mental illness was neutral and rooted in the 1950's. The question was raised that where was my opinion on all of it? This is bearing in mind that I'd only performed the first 15 minutes of the show, and I think an opinion does develop throughout the 55 minutes of the whole show - one that is not in any way in support of experimental brain surgery to 'cure' mental illness. Should I have an opinion? Or allow the audience to form their own? Another comment I had recently when I performed the whole piece at The Albany in London, was 'Why didn't you say "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy?" I was waiting for that line!' Yes, the whole show hinges on the zinger Tom Waits dropped on a 1970's chat show, and the truth is I did say it during the Edinburgh run. But it always felt too clunky, that I was subtitling, and not allowing space for the audience to work it out for themselves. I'm still figuring out who this woman is, and why she's here, saying all of this stuff. I got put on the spot the other night... strangers demanding answers, it was interesting!

So I'm coming to realise, with every performance and every conversation, that I'm crassly dividing audiences into two camps: those that want to know what it's about, and those that haven't a clue what it's about, and welcome that! However, I've sat through a lot of shows that I didn't understand, and knew that the company didn't want me to understand, and that just made me angry. If you've ever seen a Forced Entertainment show, then you'll know what I mean, and maybe you love them - I don't, but I've made myself go and see them several times. There's something infuriating about the black nosed clown, it's an arrogance that's very fun to play, but can lead the audience into all sorts of negative emotions. I know this from my work with The Mist: We Are Not Cakes - there's a fine line between a celebration of absurdism, and being deliberately, nihilistically annoying. I don't want to alienate an audience by making them feel that I'm withholding any form of explanation on purpose.

I had a very useful and balanced review written about the show from my performance in Leeds, where the reviewer from Theatre Bubble had expressed frustration at not being able to work it all out, but mused that maybe that was the point. She said that my characters were more sketched out than being fully formed, a convention commonly seen in cabaret performance, and that this provoked a more cerebral response in her. Read the review in full here.

A line from the opening speech from the show goes; 'We're going to take an inebriational stroll through the bowels of my grey matter, and rest somewhere between the pre-frontal cortex and limbic system, suspended between rationality and sensation.'

Are we thinking, or are we feeling? A transorbital lobotomy severs the connections between the 'human' and 'mammal' parts of the brain, (to massively oversimplify the most complex and mysterious organ in the body) and somewhere in that brain tissue is where I believe is our sense of self resides - the two halves that need to be integrated.

A quote I loved from the Theatre Bubble review was; 'I was swept along through dreams and images, as if in a dream, from which one wakes up bemused, but happily so.' I had three stuttery dreams last night; one was like an episode of 'Black Mirror', one was rude(!), and in another I was talking to foxes. I'm not innocent when I dream, and if I took them all literally and at face value I would be seriously worried about my state of mind. As my teacher at LISPA practically screamed at us when we frowned, rubbed our foreheads and whined 'I don't know' during the final neutral mask session on the IMPP course in Berlin "YOU DON'T HAVE TO KNOW!!" But we want to know don't we? We want to work it all out and then file it in the 'dealt with' drawer. I remember going to see a production of 'Cleansed' by Sarah Kane years ago, that left me so emotionally distraught immediately after, that I had to go and hide in a toilet cubicle until I'd calmed down. My boss at the time who I'd gone to the theatre with, said he felt jealous that I'd been so affected, when his response was cerebral and objective. I felt horribly embarrassed of my response at the time, and longed for more objectivity. Neither reaction to the show was the 'right' one to have, in hindsight both of us enjoyed it in our own way, but it was our self-judgement and comparison that could be seen as negative.

I think what I'm trying to say here is that I can't tell you anymore about what my show is about, anymore than I can interpret my dreams for you, read your mind or control your imagination. Someone said to me once that dreams are like your brain taking a shit. My brain has a shit every night, a beautiful shit. Your brain has beautiful shits every night too. And that's all this show I made is - my beautiful shit, made as visible and audible as I can make it, with as much care and craft as I can manage. I'm not ready to 'know' what it's about yet, and maybe I never will. But you are most welcome to tell me what it is about for you.

Dear

The last performance of 'Jeu Jeu la Foille's Frontal Lobotomy' for the foreseeable future was in Buxton last Saturday. The invoices have been paid, props and costumes put away or repaired/retired, and that final review should be here any day. And as I write this I'm in a state of turmoil, thoughts rushing through my head, thinking on the events that have happened in my personal life in the past 7 months, and remembering that the show was a kind of anchor through all of that.
I heard someone say recently that whatever you go out to attack, comes back to get you. I hope that the show helped to gently persuade people of what they already thought they knew. Certainly I have felt attacked in my personal life, but the audience responses to the show have been very loving and supportive. If anything has kept me going it's this show.

But what do I do with it next?

Some possible ideas that have come out of various audience responses, working with directors and experience of solo touring:

Ask for more funding next time. I should've asked for a higher sum. Over this 7 month tour, because I was lucky enough to receive a small grant from the Arts Council, it opened me up to these kind of conversations with other artists I knew or met along the way. And their grant was always bigger than mine! They were often surprised at how little I was working with. Costs did add up, and though I made just enough in hat donations, and saved some other already budgeted for pounds here and there - I just about broke even. And I didn't pay myself any sort of wage or expenses. All of my full shows, bar two, were free. I've learned from this that I have consistently undersold or undervalued myself, feeling that I somehow wasn't worthy of money. Doing this tour has begun to turn that around for me.
​
Believe in yourself more. At the start I was doubting everything about touring, but the run at the Vaults was the turning point, and the show got a second wind in May at Chaplin's Cellar Bar. April was a bit of slump audience and energy wise. I got a bit monotone in my delivery, and once this was pointed out to me by a friend or two, I worked hard to turn that around. I loved Brighton Fringe! I also worked hard on the transitions and characters of the show with the help of Pepe Gudino in June, and July was a busy month in terms of shows and audiences. Before the start of the tour in January I performed an extract in a cabaret show called Le Chien Noir. All of the acts were themed around mental illness, it was very moving. I felt I'd done a terrible performance and was mortified, but quickly cheered up by those around me. All those I've worked with and met since conceiving this show have been nothing but caring and supportive, and the audiences have been up for it! Positive reviews and blog posts, some nice personal thank you's and acknowledgment on some level from my peers have been an added bonus.

It has become clearer than ever through the process of performing this show, that the decision I made to operate my own lighting and sound as part of the show, is brave but misguided. It does make the show seem really solo, I'm completely on my own with no one to help me. In May I experimented with a foot pedal to change the tracks, and uploaded my music onto a go button app - I should've done this long before, although I broke the foot pedal in my solo tech rehearsal in the first performance I tried with it. I want it to appear like I'm changing the needle on the gramophone, rather than pressing the screen on my ipad. It looks naff at the moment, and I've thought through every option I can think of to change it.

Get to know your performance persona and be careful when dealing with the media. I've got to know who Jeu Jeu la Foille is more over the course of seven months. Or over the fourteen months since I first let her speak onstage. I've let her do the talking far more this year, and BCC Radio Surrey only wanted me to tell them where she had come from, they didn't ask me anything leading about the actual show! She's not French!!! I've had more interest in my facebook page than ever before, and it's made me think about the work I did before this, and what I might go on to try next. I don't think I'm finished with this show yet, and certainly now it's at least more visible, I need some time to think and try to choose wisely what the next version is, and how visible I want my browsing history to be. This show is niche for one thing, I don't know where it could go.

The show works best on a small stage with the audience up close, but not too close to each other. Comedy audiences need to sit close together. The show at Guildford Fringe was a good example of this, although it was in some ways my freest and smoothest performance of them all, the stage was larger and higher than I'm used to, and the audience were far away and in complete darkness. This threw me a bit, and I wasn't expecting it to. I discovered that looking at people while you're performing to them is really important. Sound obvious, but I found many ways of looking at people who were looking at me. And I tried to really see them too. For a bigger stage I'll need bigger props, but I'm very tied to the idea that the entire show (except a chair) goes into a suitcase that I cart around myself on a stupid trolley. I've discovered that I'm very determined when it comes to being on time for shows, and (except for Latitude that I'm still weeping over) I've made it to all of them, and done a fairly decent job of largely doing this on my own, with only myself to blame and then try and sort it out. There have of course been many annoying things about moving that suitcase around, but I probably needed the exercise.

I'll write more when I think of more,

Yours faithfully,

Jeu Jeu la Foille c/o Vicky Hancock

My Frontal Lobotomy is an oddity, it's non-conventional, encompassing many different styles. I'm usually in a small space, and that space becomes more and more filled with stuff as the show continues. I travel within this small space; I go from a bar to a house to a lecture theatre, to a psychiatric ward...By the final stages of the show it's clear to the audience what a lobotomy is, but there is a lot of information, it's too much to process in one sitting. I call upon the audience to be fully alert, and yet I encourage them to relax at the start. People tend to find that it's only in their conversations after the show that anyone can piece together the experience that they've had. And that's where it gets interesting, different people see different things, and it can play on their minds for days afterwards - so they tell me! The audience make their own world based on the aftermath of whatever they have just witnessed. The show demands a free mind, if you focus too long on one aspect it will be gone, and we're already on to something else.The through line is Tom Waits, it's strange to discover that he was born in a taxi, he is an oddity himself. The different characters I play need to be more defined, each poem or story needs its own personality. I use costume to introduce each character, but I could do more physically and vocally to prepare the audience for the change, to introduce the new theme. There is a lot of text - and for a performer who trained in physical theatre, and as a burlesque performer who hardly ever spoke, this is a big departure - maybe the audience who already know me don't expect that? I can choose the key words and deliver those, look at 'All That Jazz' for inspiration. The technical aspects are clunky, I need to either fully own doing my own cues or have someone else do it for me. The operating my own music and controlling my own blackout came from necessity when I couldn't find a technician at Edinburgh Fringe. And gradually I realised that this was a solo show, and I was on my own, and that was ok. It was just me. I made it a feature. Theatre is collaborative, at least in my experience - but how far could I take the solo performance? I didn't want to time the sound cues to fit in with my performance, I felt that could limit my play, but I don't feel that I should hide it either - I need to find a way to hit that button. Maybe limit the music changes to three moments. I could play more with the doctor character at the start, I don't need to be so afraid of the audience, perhaps set up the convention of interaction right from the word go. Could I be polishing my ice-pick as the audience enter? They first see it when I'm in the red dress for the moment, and I love that reveal, but maybe they need to see it earlier? The Brain Haikus are too difficult to read, I need to print these, maybe shine a torch. I need to really mark my territory in those doctor moments, use the audience at the back more. Audience interaction terrifies me, how do I overcome that? The audience at the front should want to look behind them, see what's going on. Every space I perform in is different, how do I figure this out? I could play with my mistakes more, there are moments when I almost trip over my dress, and I have no help, as I'm on my own - it's just me. Could I really fall? The ending of the show is cute but weak, the audience are waiting for more. Could I use the black dress I wear at the start to cover everything over again? Almost as though everything is covered and neural, waiting for the whole thing to begin again? Could I disappear into the dress? I made the black skirt for a black hole installation at LISPA. The installation didn't work, but I was left with a gigantic skirt I'd made that I knew had to be used again, for something, and it found it's use here. How can I bring it back in? And then there's Bobby Cool, the Tom Waits puppet. Named after my grandmothers first boyfriend when she was five years old, and modelled on the outfit Tom Waits wore in the the 1974 interview when he dropped the zinger 'I've rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.' I made the Bobby Cool puppet, he's a bit shit, I need a decent one. Could he change at all during the show? So far he is only used at the beginning and at the end. Is there a way for him to change his costume and position along with mine throughout the show? So much of this piece I found by experimenting in rehearsal, and listening to the audiences that came to see it. I've had very little direction, but a whole lot of encouragement. I'm so grateful to the strangers that have taken a chance on me, to the friends who have returned over and over again, to the time when NO ONE turned up and I performed to an audience of empty chairs, imagining that each of them were Tom Waits himself, and I had to give the best ever performance or he'd sue me! I don't take anything for granted, every performance is sacred to me, whether it's full (thank you Brighton) or only a few (many of them!) and I love those shows just as much. I could never imagine performing this piece to an audience larger than 50, it sounds daft, but I have to see each of those people. I'm always amazed when anyone actually shows up, I'm nobody, I always feel that I have no right to be there. But I should, and I'm going to keep trying to be better.
 
With all of the loves, Jeu Jeu la Foille xx

A year ago today Frontal Lobotomy had its first public viewing, in a preview for Edinburgh Fringe at the Canal Cafe theatre. At that stage the arrival of the 'band' was mimed, as I didn't yet have the props, the doctor character didn't exist, there were three poems in that showing that I no longer use, and two that hadn't yet been written have now appeared. Still, I had a show of sorts. This morning I re-read the review I received from The Scotsman in Edinburgh, that spoke of a 'relaxed and self-assured stage presence.' A year ago that first performance was anything but. The next two previews happened in July, where in the meantime I'd been travelling and teaching in Italy and had done very little towards the show. Still, it had changed quite significantly. Working without a director or any outside input was hard, and I very much relied on my gut, and comments from friends. Without the initial guidance and continued encouragement of Peta Lily, and the amazing support and friendship from Susanna Jeffery it may never have happened. I was mortified onstage in those first two performances, though I feel I had finally got somewhere by the final preview. Edinburgh Free Fringe is great for new shows, I got the chance to really develop Frontal Lobotomy in the moment, and many of the problems I encountered and immediate reactions I received, have ended up contributing to the overall feel of the show. And twelve performances into the tour from December, and numerous extract performances later, it's starting to make more sense to me. I'm much freer than I was at the start, and I've finally realised that it doesn't need to make complete sense, the audience will try to follow me anyway. I've been lucky to receive so much praise for it, but I don't think it's finished yet. I'm taking a break from the show this August to give myself some time to figure out what I want to do with it next.

I added another section. I agonised for a while about how I could work at least one haiku into the show - it seemed I'd referenced every type of poem except for haikus. I thought about finding a haiku on a piece of paper and reading it, or making it into a letter from Dr Freeman from Jeu Jeu, but decided that the audience had heard enough of my voice, and that I would ask an audience member to read it for me. Audience interaction is still something that unnerves me still, it's the part I can't control or plan for, and I have to remind myself that this was what my training at LISPA was really for. The ability to let go and trust myself. Having the Brain Haikus has allowed me to interact more fully, rather than just pretending to lobotomise myself and others! I've been posting the ones that get read out on my facebook profile, and it's become something I look forward to doing, both in the show and afterwards. Brain vocabulary is difficult to pronounce, my hand-writing is difficult to read, and the Haikus make absolutely no sense. But I've had so much fun writing and sharing them for the past three shows by the sea.

It occurred to me today from the conversations I've had with complete strangers and people I barely know who have come to see the show, that many of my audience have taken a complete gamble on me. In the audience I've had mental health practitioners, burlesque fans, neuroscientists, Trump protestors, non-native English speakers, Waits obsessives/virgins/non-believers...I'm very grateful.

Something I attempted for the first two previews, but then scrapped, has re-surfaced again. Tom Waits has an uncanny ability to capture a scene in his writing; I'm thinking of tracks like '9th and Hennepin', 'Circus', 'Potter's Field', 'Small Change.' I tried a similar kind of thing based on my home town, which I'd been coming to terms with living in again, after everything in London ended in October 2016 ('Last October everything turned on a dime...'), but could never quite find it.
I want to collaborate with the use of sound for this one, having done some further research into the effects of music on the brain, I'm not sure I will ever perform it live. It's about a mythical place not far from where I live.

Xx