I can feel myself talking, with my hands. Funny, on the bus on my way into town I had both hands in my pockets gripping change. Now my hands are dancing through the air, flicking invisible satin ripples up into the corners of the ceiling. I’m talking about my play, something unearthed from the seabed, my seabed, yes – poetic to imagine myself as having land and oceans and depths alike to the city of Atlantis and there is where I had to prise Rushing Dolls (my play) from the evil clutches of erm, the source of all things? The unforgiving creative ‘spring’ that I have seen dry up in a nano second only to be replenished days later with inane un-spring-like cautionary tales, blunt objects, swimming ideals, basically rubbish.

This is an interesting moment to have in the middle of an important meeting, I stop to imagine, mid-flight (speaking with my hands) how wonderful it is to believe that everything is there, deep down. It makes my head spin. Perhaps my ex on the other side of the world is desperately sorry – deep down? Perhaps the production of mediocre art that no one can properly critique because it is speaking to a political or social narrative that we all agree is very trendy and cutting edge or important (so therefore artistic responses are very trendy and cutting edge or important) is actually interesting deep down! I might be wrong about a slew of morons dotted across my life line, when you look at my palms you can literally see them guffawing. Maybe, everyone is talented, deep down?

After the meeting I read through my play at home, I turn the pages and breathe in the scent of the book, I look at my photo on the back cover – I decide that young woman interests me. Is she consistently effective in hauling, skyward, ancestral treasures passed down through generations? Is she interested in where it comes from, or simply grateful. Does it matter?

There is a lot of stillness, booming silence, between creating something and having the desire to develop and edit and ruthlessly kill off characters, ideas, brand new towns and their requisite heavens. Getting Rushing Dolls match fit is exciting, I have a new little team that give me a sense of community around the characters, people who know them and love them like I do. It feels strange and brilliant to realise that we are very close to finding a home for this work, a bit like when you are standing just in the right spot one day to see the light hit the trees in golden bliss, as though you have lived your life not a second ahead or behind, you timed everything perfectly for this one imperfect awakening.