"Five Kinds of Silence" Orchard Theatre Company

Last night I went to see the Orchard Theatre Company's "Five Kinds of Silence". The topic of familial abuse is not one that is going to get people rubbing their hands together saying "Oh I can't wait to go to the theatre tonight!" I mentioned the show to a few people and most were not interested in attending when they heard the main theme. This is a shame. It was one of the best pieces of theatre that I have seen in a long time. 

The running time is about one hour and ten minutes without an interval. It's a shorter play but then it would be  hard to sit through anything on this topic that dragged on. The actors were also on stage for the whole performance. The way this was achieved added greatly to the overall feel of the performance. The stage itself was barren except for a few items. From the point of view of touring, it was great to see what could be achieved with use of simple props and costumes. 

Billy, is the father and from the moment he begins to speak we get an insight into his corrupted and strange sense of reality. His first monologue is reminiscent of something from Iain Bank's "The Wasp Factory" or the stalking sequences in Patrick Süskind's "Perfume". The theme of scent returns again throughout the play being used to great effect in a later development within the play. Scent is primordial and is the only sense we cannot re-create from imagination. Yet it is probably the most evocative and memory inducing. 

The overall performances from the cast was outstanding but special mention has to be given to actor who played Billy. Yes he had an amazing script to work with but the depth of his performance really made the show believable. Billy is a monster but monsters are not born that way - they are created! The actor who played Billy brought you inside his life, his experiences. You felt every slap, every rejection, every ounce of the degradation of spirit which he endured and brought him to the point where the bullied becomes the bully. It could have been so easy to slip into portrayal with Billy as an evil monster yet this production managed to maintain a balance - between disgust over Billy's actions and sympathy for the tortured individual he became. 

I think overall going to see this play and this particular production would be a worthwhile experience. In Ireland, like other places with a large Catholic population, we have been rocked by stories of institutional and clerical abuse scandals. The theme of familial abuse is often over-shadowed by these scandals. Yet the themes within this play are universal. We are more likely to raped, abused and murdered by someone we know than by a random stranger. At night we lock our doors to keep these strangers out and yet it can be the people we are locked in with that could potentially hurt us more!

If you have time tonight go see this play - it wont take a lot of your time or cost you very much - but it will leave an impression and keep you thinking long after you have left the theatre space.

15 April · 20:00 - 22:00

Tickets 10€, Concessions 8€

Camden Palace Hotel

Camden Quay

Cork, Ireland

All that you can't leave behind...

I have moved a few times in my life. Actually that's a bit of an understatement - I have moved a lot. During that time I have had to make some difficult decisions about things I own. Actually again this is not totally true either - some decisions were difficult, some were very easy to make. 

Through the last nomadic 10 years, the main refuge for my overflow has been my mother's house. That poor woman - with four adult children, her attic has become a waste ground for one-armed teddies, old school photographs and things that "might come in handy some day". With her two eldest now home-owners themselves the rafters are under somewhat less pressure. However my brother and I still persist in using her house as a "U-Store-it" facility. I was a born hoarder - and a sleep-talker, with one of my most notable combinations of the two being the lines "Don't throw it away - I might use it!" Yes even in my sleep I was thinking about hoarding! I was destined for a life of newspapers  stacked neck-high in hallways and a specially designated room for teddies. And then something happened...I started moving around and going travelling - and sometimes combining the both. 

Somewhere in Laos - and not a hair-straightener in sight

Cuba - The First Lesson

My first big lesson came on a trip to Cuba when I was twenty. I went with two school friends and they brought big suitcases with them. I didn't have the money to buy one of these so I went with two borrowed rucksacks - one medium, the other large. After the two week vacation, I returned home and emptied the contents of my bag on the floor for washing. Looking at two piles of clothes I could have fitted the clothes I had worn into the smaller of the two bags. From this day forward I took a whole new approach to my packing. There has been some mishaps along the way... Like the time I packed for a holiday to Barcelona with a hangover and ended up with 4(!) pairs of stilettos in my bag when I arrived, of which I wore none. Or the time I went to Santander to a language college and brought everything I owned. But in the main I have become a reformed character. I travelled through South East Asia in '05 for three months with only a half full 45 litre ruck sack on arrival in Bangkok. I also came home with a viewpoint that if it can't fit on your back in a rucksack - it's not worth buying!

Moving Abroad - Lesson Number Two

After I returned from Asia I began college in University College Cork (UCC) and rented a cool large apartment on the north-side of Cork City. I emphasis large for a reason. I spent two years there and my minimalist fervour somewhat waned through these years of comfort with ample space to put things. When it came time for me to move out, before going to Spain to attend an Erasmus year abroad - it took three carloads to move me out! It was time for some radical change. I spent that Christmas sorting through my stuff. Bag after bag of clothes were sent to the second hand shop. Scraps of paper with tiny bits of information were thrown away. It was time for a new lean mean Orla. My mother, the long suffering recipient of my life over flow was even taken aback. She worried for my mental health, how could my little hoarder have changed so radically? She was convinced it was a "change before death"! And did I die from not having all these things to weigh me down? No, in fact, I believe I prospered. With less possessions to tie me down I felt more free than I had ever felt. No I still don't think I could reach the dizzy heights of minimalism that Niall Doherty has  achieved but I am fairly happy with my new approach. 

Keep Doing it - Lesson Number Three

Like anything else this takes some devotion and even a bit of daily self-practise. My recent few moves have shown that. These big clears outs are fine but much better to do it as you go. I am currently dealing with the backlog from not having been more scrupulous with my throwing out and its really not worth it. There are amazing places you can offload unwanted items like freecycle.org or your local charity shop. There is an Irish Cancer Society shop in Cork who actually come and pick up your unwanted furniture to sell on in their shop. I have seen a lot of skips around Cork with perfectly good items that could have been sold there or passed on to a new home through the Free Cycle network and instead they will end up taking up space in land fill. Little and often is the way. I also like this approach with clothes. My current favourite is taking an item of low self worth - yes you know what I'm talking about- that thing you wear when there is nothing else in the wardrobe. Its warm, it's comfortable but its bloody horrible. Let it go! 

There are still things I have trouble parting with (More to follow on these) but like I said it's a daily approach that keeps me happier, and in the future - more free when it comes to moving again. 

Things I have learned from moving and packing light:

1. Some "must haves" become less of a necessity when you are faced with shipping them or carrying them across great distances. 

2. I have become more aware of the value of things as well as their financial cost. 

3. I have become less attached to things - they are just that - things.

4. I find I prioritise experiences and people more than "possessions"

5. I think more about consequences of my purchases, for example, I now nearly never impulse buy. 

6. I don't get too upset if something gets broken, lost or damaged.

7. No matter how little I  think I have packed there is still too much in there!

8. I will nearly never see my fellow travellers again - do I really need to waste energy carrying and repacking a hair-dryer (or other such grooming items) just so I can look like I do at home? 

(This post was brought to you courtesy of the back-breaking work of Joan and Eddie Burke, Pratheesh Kumar & Alan O'Neill)

The best laid plans...

This week began with all the usual enthusiasm that Mondays bring in my world - a time to start afresh, the first day of the rest of your life, yaddy yah yah! Well Monday's activities were put off for another day -  sure isn't there always tomorrow? Couldn't really get warm all day, no matter what I did. Went for a run Monday night and never even broke into a sweat. Had some yummy Aloo Palak and finally I felt warm.

That night I woke up several times feeling pretty restless. I got up a few times to drink some water, thinking it might be that I was a little dehydrated that was keeping me up. Third time I awoke I knew it was more than a bit of restlessness. Something was wrong, really wrong. Gut-wrenching pain and dashing to the toilet. I am a notoriously bad patient and in light of this it was obvious that I would accuse the nearest sentient being of attempting to poison me. Why think logically that I could have a stomach bug when I could blame the nearest person of murder most horrid!

The next morning the accused was sent to the pharmacy to get me an arsenal of medication to get me through the worst of "poisoning". There the accused was told that yes there is a vicious bug going around. Conveniently let off the hook, he arrived back quite smug. I was in serious pain. I took 1000mgs of paracetamol but was still in pain some time later. I reached for the back up supplies... the stuff I keep hidden from everyone. God only knows the Solpedeine/Nurofen addicts of the world would only be pounding on my door if they knew about the bad boys I keep hidden at the bottom of the sock drawer. 

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the bathroom...

Physical pain abating, the puking began with a fury. 3 litres of 7up, spinach and god knows what later, I finally came up for air. (It is never a good idea to puke into a bowl with a measure on the side). I put the bowl down, swatted the dog away and blew spinach/puke from my nose. I wiped the tears from my eyes - these were forced out due to the pressure of the puke coming out - not cause I'm soft or anything! I felt so good that I cleaned up everything, in the bathroom after depositing the contents of the bowl in the toilet. 

Bad choice of reading material

Horrible cramping pain persisted until this afternoon and now I'm feeling relatively fine minus about a stone of weight! My hair looks a bit big for my face and my clothes are hanging a little looser, but seem to have gotten through the winter vomiting virus fairly unscathed. 

Tag Cloud for Blogger

Found some HTML that can be inserted simply into Blogger's templates here. I only have 3 labels so far, so will go back for some editing when I have written more posts.

http://lastblogger.com/

Eddie Izzard changed my life

The following is my response to Niall Doherty's blog post My Biggest Secret 

Eddie Izzard changed my life. I saw a sketch of his about being a transvestite(TV) when I was in my teens. He hid it for so long and denied it when confronted with it. He was subjected to ridicule and beatings. One day when confronted he wearily replied – “Yes, I’m a transvestite”. People stopped bothering him – “Oh okay” and said no more.

He laid himself bare, said to those watching – Yes this is who I am. Like me or loath me but this is who I am.

When I became sick in early twenties I took on Eddie’s approach to my illness. I could have tried to hide away from people’s questions but my illness is so all-encompassing that I would have had to hide away from people completely. So I was open and honest.

In that time I have had to judge what motivated peoples’ curiosity. Some people are genuinely interested and want to learn more. Others simply view you as an oddity, something to be talked about at the lunch table in work the next afternoon – I met this girl who has X and it does X to her!

In the main, I have found my honesty has paid off. I have dispensed with shame and fear and met them head on. I have been clear in how my illness affects me, how debilitating it can be, and, most importantly for me, I have never sought sympathy.

One of my favourite sayings throughout my twenties was “Failure is so liberating” – I have “failed” at so much of what our society holds in esteem. And yet I maintain that I am one of the luckiest people going. Hiding, fear, feeling shame – are precious energy wasted. Go forth and shout your “secrets” from the roof tops!