The moment I leave the inevitable Friday afternoon crawl in 1st gear up most of the M1, and head east on the A46, I feel myself breathe more easily. The roads are still busy but at least I can get up into 2nd and even, at times, 3rd gear. But then, as I reach the A158 beyond Lincoln I start to feel positively light-hearted. When I turn off this road, however, onto the B1399 and find myself in country lanes winding through verdant fields bathed in glorious early evening sunshine, a wave of calm seems to flood my whole being. Continue reading
I was in Tavistock Square, London, yesterday August 6th, at the very moving ceremony to remember those who died in Hiroshima 73 years ago as a result of the first Atomic bomb. This Thursday, August 9th, I hope to be in Battersea Park to witness the floating lanterns released into the Thames in memory of those who died at Nagasaki, also 73 years ago. I have been working on and off for quite some time now on the second part of my trilogy (THIS EVIL THING being the first part) – which focuses on three individuals in particular who were involved in the tragic events in 1945 – a scientist, a soldier and a survivor. I feel very stirred by this piece of work and it seems appropriate that I have completed the latest draft of this play this very week. I hope it will see the light of day in 2019 or 2020 latest when it will be performed by myself and a female Japanese performer (yet to be cast!). The photo posted here I saw at Tate Modern a couple of years ago – in Elton John’s collection, I think – and it feels very evocative.
July 12th 2018
It’s all very well putting on your website that in a year or two’s time you plan, all things being well, to walk the whole of the Western Front, all 475 plus miles of it, as part of your ‘peace initiative’ – and to tie in with the end of the ‘100 years since the First World War’ commemorations.
Maria and I are trying to work out what might have happened.
Perhaps it was a husband and wife and it went something like this:
‘I’m sure I saw the couch on the truck before we left.’
‘It WAS on the truck – we carried it out together, don’t you remember?’
‘But did you strap it down?’
‘I thought YOU were going to strap it down.’
‘Well, it’s not on the truck now.’
‘Then where in hell is it!’
We have been driving along for about an hour on a blissfully sunny morning (finally) in Iowa – when I see something ahead that doesn’t look right.
‘What’s that in our lane?’ I ask Maria. ‘It’s not moving.’ Then I realise. ‘It’s a couch !!’
Should I stop the play?’ I ask myself.
A small child is crying right down near the front, and as the characters in the play get ever more impassioned, so the child is getting ever more upset.
Did the message not get through? I suggested to all venues that the play with its serious and strong themes is really only suitable for 14 and upwards. I saw the father bringing the child in at the start, along with its not much older siblings and thought, oh dear, this could be tricky.
She’s 90 years old, does yoga, is in fine fettle and is as bright as a button – and she’s travelled over three hours from Wisconsin with her daughter to see my play.
That’s the biggest journey made to see it by anyone on this US tour that I’m aware of.
She’s also the mother of my host Ellen, I should point out. But still… three hours drive from Wisconsin.
Ellen, teaching peace studies and conflict resolution (as well as a course in human rights and social justice) has clearly given me a big build up. Hope I can live up to it.
Buffalo History Museum is housed inside a beautiful building. I am due to perform at 2pm in their intimate 150 seat auditorium.
The Quakers are hosting the event and after the performance Rodney Pierce, a Korean War CO, and Nadine Hoover of the Conscience Studio and New York Quakers, join us for the Q and A.
Six weeks ago I was performing at the London Catholic Worker’s church in Haringey, close to my childhood home in north London. 4,000 miles from there, I am now about to perform at the Catholic Worker of Michiana’s premises in South Bend, Indiana.
Our Lady of the Road is the name of their building, which consists of a dining hall, kitchen, laundry machines and showers, and a new chapel.
‘I hate war’
These words on one of the walls of the Roosevelt memorial in Washington leap out at me. I read many more quotes referring to peace on this and the other nearby memorials. And yet?
War doesn’t seem to have diminished since those quotes were uttered. The high-flown words of peace don’t seem to have been translated into action.
I am glad I rode the Cyclone. Honestly.
But never again. Let me just repeat that. Never again.
Bill (and many others) obviously get a huge thrill and adrenaline rush from riding roller-coasters – but I am more than happy to get my rush from 75 minutes of being onstage alone with six wooden crates.