The cogs are turning… & Arlyn in the bath

Hello again! It’s been awhile hasn’t it?

CR has been blipping in and out of conciousness a lot lately. People are busy, etc. It’s looking like FINALLY our next show might be under way. It might not be for awhile though however becaauuusseeee… I got a directing job!
Outside of CR with University of Queensland’s resident theatre company, Underground Productions. I’m so EXCITED! It’s weird working outside my comfort zone, but that plus applying for Short + Sweet festival as a director, really makes me proud of how well I’m doing. Our next show should be casting in around early June/July.

But for now, here is something you haven’t seen for a VERY. LONG. TIME.

An original fiction excerpt! Feel free to make any comments or queries on this post about it 🙂

Buh-bye for now,

Jay x

“Arlyn in the bath”

“I’m in here!” she called.
I followed the voice through a white door with cracked paint, and into what I realised was the bathroom. I turned to leave, obviously there had been a mistake. Had I heard her wrong? She couldn’t have meant for me to meet her in here, like…well, that.
“Where are you going? Stay. Sit.”
She lay there in the tub, head lolled back. Her lips parted and I swear it was like she was breathing in my ear from across the room. It was like listening to the ocean in a shell, ebb and flow. Each shuddering breath sent a shiver down my spine. The hairs raised themselves on my arms. I moved to the toilet and sat down on its closed lid. I kept my eyes averted.
Reaching her hand into the air and out of the water which tinkled softly when it came back down to its mother source, Arlyn curled her hand like she was caressing a ball of glass. In the centre of her hand, appeared a ball of slowly tuning liquid. It floated in the air and when she gently waved her hand over it, it slowly tipped and poured itself into the bath. The bubbles dissipated quickly and for a brief moment the water was clear and her body was exposed, before the water turned a milky blue colour. A scent of something distinctly berry like wafted into the air on the coattails of the steam.
“Like what you saw?”
I distinctly got the feeling that I shouldn’t answer that. I shot her a quick sideways glance and was sure I saw something slither up into her hair, towards the nape of her neck.


“Ah. Well, I wasn’t really looking. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Well, yes. I mean, I wasn’t looking, intentionally. It was an accident.”
“So you don’t want to look at me?”
“Well I… I would look at you if you wanted me to. otherwise no, I would not look at you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I could feel face starting to perspire. I lied to myself: said it wasn’t nerves or fear, it was the heat of the enclosed space, filled with steam. It didn’t help. I’m a terrible liar.
“Do you, want, to look at me?”
I stayed silent long enough for her to conjure another one of her water changing air ball thingies. This time, the water turned a bright shade of pink. I could actually taste the bubblegum in the viscous air around me.
“Who doesn’t want to look at beautiful things?”
“So you want to look at me. You like looking at me.”
Every answer that slunk its way past my lips felt like another nail in my coffin. “Err, I suppose.”
I didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling. Not a sweet, shy smile; or a confident happy smile, but sharp edged smile, like a kiss from her would slit my throat.
“I assume you want to fuck me. Take me, like a damsel in distress, save me from the evil of the world and have me faun over you like a sad little puppy that’s been beaten by its owner.”
She was sitting up now, I’d heard the bathwater move but I barely dared to look at her. Her voice seemed to be reverberating off the walls in the small humid room. Slapping and splashing against the ceramic: the bathwater was moving on its own. The toilet water underneath me was making a ghastly racket and the pipes were groaning like they were about to be ripped out of the wall.
“I’m sorry to inform you my darling little guppy brain but I am not your manic pixie dream girl, and I will not be allowing you to spread your foul semen into my lake of eternal purity!”
After this point her voice had become nothing but a squeak, almost like a dolphin. Actually, exactly like a dolphin. She was standing now, her body hidden behind a vortex of pink bathwater, her hair moved around her face writhing like leeches against her skin. I sat, legs pulled up off the flaw, curled in a ball, on top of the toilet. Like a huge wuss. I lifted my head and called to her through the din.
“Actually, I just wanted to know about your childhood! Nothing else! No fucking! Not taking! No foul semen tarnishing lakes of eternal purity!”
She seemed confused at my words. “Oh?”
“Yes.” I nodded my head slightly.
“Well then.” she said. With what I’m sure was with a flick of a tentacle like tendril of hair, the house storm ended. The water sloshed back down into the bath and Arlyn with it. She sat, bathroom dripping, exactly as she was before. “I suppose I could share a little of my story with you, if you don’t intend to defile me.”
“No defiling. Promise.” I said giving her a shaky thumbs up and lowering my feet to the floor.
She launched right into her mental memoir, “One of the first houses we lived in was like out of a fairy story…”


We’re on hiatus: crashed, not quite burned.

We’re on hiatus. CR, Solider and the Brave Ballerina, even my own brain at the moment. All on hiatus until further notice. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but I was getting so overwhelmed with trying to make the next show happen, that it was affecting my ability to judge things. My relationship with Shane was struggling, severely, and my mother admitted that she feels like I’m Jekyll and Hyde. I think not seeing my psychologist for so long has affected me a lot. I’ve finally gotten around to organising an appointment to get a new referral (not crazy, just depressed and anxious) and I’ll be seeing her on the 4th of next month. Phew. Maybe once that’s all done and dusted I’ll be able to think straight and get our next show back on track. I feel like a big failure not being able to keep up with my plan of shows for this year. I’m pretty upset with myself, for not planning better. For letting my health get to this point. Today I put CR on my resume and I felt like a huge hack because I was going out to apply for jobs non-theatre related. Hopefully in this time off I’ll be able to get everything back on track for the business, even with PL insurance set up finally and a little money to back us up.
Bah. My brain is just burnt out. We’ll be back soon.

I hope.


Right back at it again; And just as stressed

If other careers were paid like artists..

The sad truth.

Venues. Costumes. Insurance. Hungry actors.

It all adds up to cash. Cash that we don’t have because we (Ok, I) have chosen to take the harder route to stardom, in the name of creative freedom. So, in retrospect, I have no one to blame but myself. And in reality, there is no reason why we can’t start applying for grants, I mean, we have before. But I am stubborn. I  want to, and will, do this on my own and I will work myself into the ground building up my company before I give up forever and become a childcare worker.

My only wish is that I could talk to my friends and family about it without receiving a variety of frustrating responses.
For example,  the sarcastic “oh well when you’re a big star I’ll come to your parties” and the placating condescending facial expression that glazes over them when I talk seriously about my business. My baby. It makes me feel like a little child talking about how I’m going to build a rocket out of toilet rolls and fly to the moon to eat cake with martians. Not like I’m a nearly 20 year old woman trying to build her future.
And I tend to start to talk about it like I think it’s silly too; like I’m not deadly serious about it. I get afraid of what they’ll think. I start to doubt my own ideas and dreams because of them and their unspoken, (sometimes spoken) opinions. And I hate it. More than I could ever express in words, I hate it.
When it comes to my friends, most of them I’ve grown away from, or we’re close and they’re part of my business. The ones I’m close to, I start to feel like I’m boring them to death with my worries and fears and constant questions and need for validation. And as for Shane, he has no idea. He doesn’t know a thing about theatre outside of the drama he did in high school, so even if he wanted to give me advice, he can’t. That being said, I appreciate him a great deal. But sometimes, “don’t stress, it’ll be ok.” just isn’t enough to get me through nights of venue enquiries and budgeting and frustrating actors.

I feel like I need an extra head and another 2 sets of arms just  to get things done. I have however, made one positive decision. I’m postponing my doula course. I can’t afford it this year especially if I want to make a good go of it with CR. And I think I’d like to have at least one baby of my own before I attempt to help other women through their own childbirths.

Alright. Fuck it. I’m going to look into festivals because apparently they’re covered by public liability already and it’s an easy way to get your name out there, but seeing as we’re already holding an audition next Saturday, we’re going to go ahead with Tin Solider at SYC. We can make it work. Diamond in the rough. If it’s shit, it’s shit. But it shouldn’t matter where we are, as long as the entertainment is there to make up for it.


Jay xx

They can see us now.

My show was two days ago. OUR show was two days ago. It was brilliant. Honestly, I could not be happier. There was so many more people in the audience than we expected. It was just great to be clapped for and laughed with and have people stunned to silence with how good we were. I’m in a little bit of a fog, it barely feels like it’s happened aside from the exhaustion and aches that remind me: it has. The certain comedians could have been better, but our section barely had a hitch. Some water was spilled and a few lines mumbled. Aside from that, couldn’t be more proud. Everyone was brilliant.
The afternoon after the show when we were driving home from dropping my mum home, I had my hand out the window as we drove down the highway.
So as I was dolphin diving my hand through the breeze I had a thought. That my hand and the wind in cahoots with each other was a perfect example of the past months for me, in more ways than one. The first, being that the wind was blowing my hand back enough to make it difficult to move it forward through the breeze, and if I relaxed even for a second it would be blown all the way back to where I started. The second being that despite my hand being pushed back by the hardy breeze, it was nothing compared to the car I was in, charging it’s way through the wind. Which is a nice metaphor, I think. Despite everything, all the knocks, I was still moving forward. I reached my destination. Even if I felt a little windswept and funny when I got there.
The only downside is that now the show is over, and I feel a little empty. There’s a surreality to it. It’s been 2 days and I’m already bored. On the upside, this weekend is Sam’s engagement party, and then auditions for Heartsease, and then next week I’m going to my grandmother’s for a few days, and then back to mums for 2 weeks. Hopefully that will give me enough time to clear my head and reset before I come back, put in a resume at Woolworths and then hopefully work up to and continually after my online course starts, we put Heartsease on, and then my doula course starts. After that, I’m not sure. I guess I’ll work it out along the way.



P.S. Have some show pictures. ❤
IMG_8103 IMG_8106 IMG_8108 IMG_8109 IMG_8110 IMG_8113 IMG_8115 IMG_8116 IMG_8118 IMG_8123 IMG_8132 IMG_8133

8 Days and Counting.

comedian poster full 2

So here we are. Eight days until show time and I’m scared as hell. Persevering but still. So many people have said “yes yes we will definitely be there”, but the ticket sales say otherwise. I guess I just want to show everyone that I haven’t just been fucking around for the last eight months. That I haven’t just been living a pipe dream. That I’m more than just a blonde from a less than desirable tax bracket. I’ve put a lot of money and sweat and tears into this company and no one is going to stop me from making it successful. After this show, when I feel like a million bucks or a sobbing mess, I’ll know. I’ll know either way if I want to stick it out.
I’ve finished another chapter of Lypse, which is promising. If I can finish another chapter tonight I’d be super happy. Slow progress is still progress.
So once again, a shameless plug.
Tickets available here.

Love Jay

10 Days and Counting: Feeling… Positive.

So we had rehearsal today, despite there being an issue with the schedule (I must’ve messed up somewhere) and it was good. Despite our crew being out due to various reasons and one of our actors being missing, we got a decent amount done. I’m nervous, but not as much as I was. Still haven’t sold more than 5 tickets but I’m hoping that will change in the next few days. I realised the other day that I would actually have to sing (ok, rap) in front of a decent amount of people (hopefully). The thought was kind of terrifying.
On the train of thought about things that terrify me, I’ve always wanted to be a midwife. Well maybe not a midwife but something that involves babies. Like a doula. I love babies, I really do. But I’ve always been too afraid. What if something happened to that baby during birth? How could I cope with that in my day to day life?

All that considered, I’ve always figured I’d never be able to do anything like that. But then I was scrolling through Facebook earlier this evening and one of the birth photography pages I’ve liked (Patti Ramos Photography) showed a picture of the photographer (who is also a doula) attending her first birth. The baby had been born and she was holding it tenderly while the mother looked wearily and contentedly on. I couldn’t help but think what an amazing feeling that must be. So, I Googled, and it turns out I can do doula training by correspondence. So I might save up and give it a go. 20 weeks of study and fieldwork, and a certificate at the end. At the very least I should give it a try right?
I’ll still keep going with my shows, if doing Can You See Us Now and then Heartsease doesn’t kill my love for it first. And I’ll still write of course, novels are my passion. At least if I do this course I’ll have something to back me up, that isn’t that much of a back up because it’s something I would really love to do. I just hope the people I love and who love me can support me in it.

“You are what you love, not who loves you.”Fall Out Boy

Tickets to Can You See Us Now
CR Productions Facebook page

Love Jay