Yes, I hate myself just a little bit for that pun too. But, with a not entirely unforeseen bit of 'free time' at the moment, I have to entertain myself in whatever way I can. Yesterday, that meant seeing Timon of Athens at the National.

I was lucky enough to go to some Young Vic Directors' workshops last week - I felt lucky before I'd even gone to them, but now, with the benefit of hindsight, I am immensely thankful I got to participate in them.

I've been trying to figure something out (or maybe just put something into words) for a while now. It's about (one of the reasons) why I don't like shows that I don't like. I think that process has now come to a conclusion.

It's been several days since ISDF ended and I limped, exhausted and with an inadvisable ratio of alcohol to food in my system, back home. 

Two days after writing about what I perceived to be a dearth of original, exciting student theatre at my uni, I happened to see exactly that. Drink Me, a piece of new writing that surreally explored...something...(I'm still coming up with theories as to what was actually going on, though fortunately I'm pretty sure that's what the show's makers intended) was precisely what I've been looking for. A cast not afraid to commit themselves wholeheartedly to some pretty extreme acts (such as auto-erotic asphyxiation, plenty of masturbation and some genital mutilation - all simulated, of course), a play that toyed around with conventions and didn't keep within the cosy confines of the fourth wall, and some brilliant directorial flourishes, particularly with the dashes of physical theatre that cropped up throughout.

My efforts to keep up regular blog posts (more to compensate for my terrible memory than anything else) have been pretty poor over the last few months.

I only yesterday returned home (by what felt like an endless onslaught of coaches, planes and trains) from Japan, where I've been for the past few weeks as the director of a tour of Twelfth Night. It was simply amazing both to explore Japan and perform for audiences far different to the team's usual audience (which mainly consists of Cambridge arts students - whom, incidentally, we return to performing for tomorrow).