Move On...

"Stop worrying where you're going - move on. If you can know where you're going, you've gone. Just keep moving on." Dot professes to the confused artist George in the Sondheim musical, 'Sunday in the Park with George'.

Over two years ago I moved to Australia. Two years of radical change. Two years of self-discovery. Two years of rest and recuperation. Two years of growth. Two years that needed to happen. If my life was a movie, this would be the penultimate scene right before the end, where phrases like "Well, it's certainly been an adventure!" would be uttered and people would starting hugging each other goodbye as they march off into the sunset. This isn't the kind of adventure I've had at all really. I've still not seen Uluru or been to Western Australia, I've done a few touristy things but certainly not conquered the country or anything - I doubt I ever will either. I'm quite happy for the multitudes of backpackers to continue sampling Australia's sights and sounds I've missed. My adventure here was about prioritising my life, which I admit sounds as thrilling as a tax return party organised by Accountants of Dagenham, but honestly it's probably the best thing I've done with my life.

Not many people get to dissect their life and personality under the cold light of day but "snow globing my life" as I like to call it, has allowed me to do just that. Routine, fear of insecurity and delusion cloud most people from ever having to face this head on and is usually only reserved for for teenagers or 40 year olds going through a midlife crisis. For example, I realise I will always be more comfortable knowing I am doing the exact opposite to everyone else. I loathe it when something I love becomes popular with the masses so I prefer to move on - do something different. I also know I am my most happiest when I'm performing, working within the theatre, understanding 'an audience' and this is something I intend to rectify when I get back to city life.

I get annoyed when people assume I hate Sydney because I want to leave. Why would I want to abandon such a great lifestyle to return to noisy, expensive, economically unstable city they ask? I still think Sydney is a great place to live and fulfills a purpose with it's sun-drenched, hedonistic, carefree lifestyle which the city's inhabitants relish daily. This city has given me a tremendous amount and shown me I'm capable of achieving anything, that spontaneity has it's own unique rewards. You can get drunk on culture in London and thrive off the buzz of New York and a few years ago too much of this 'city life' became overwhelming but I now sorely miss this, I really do.

So, next steps? Well, they're partly out of my control. The one thing I'm sure of is that I have to move on.

Making That Next Step...

Over the last few months I have been a little frustrated with the fact that even though I have made the huge plunge transferring my life to another part of the world to essentially sort my life out, I have in fact, made myself quite directionless for the time being. I find myself with no drive to continue pursuing the career I have built up these past few years and yet have a huge degree of caution considering the somewhat possible professional suicide nature of giving it all up to pursue a totally different career. Depending on who I talk to, advice is varied and full of opinion as one would expect. Full of the familiar phrases you hear when mulling over these big life decisions. It's not really a case of me taking control of my own life to solve this. It's about whether or not I want to spend the time fixing something I may not want to be fixed in the first place.

Luck. Life Choices. Destiny and Gut Instinct are phrases we use to justify what life hands us. It never really explains why that son of a bitch has got that promotion you wanted or why your lovely friend who has cancer has also lost her job. (By the way, I don't actually know these people they exist purely for my moral conundrum).

I am negotiating with my internal compass at the moment. Wondering if decisions regarding my career would be as hard as it is now, had I made a different choice all those years ago. I will of course never know. Only dreams and doubt offer any form of resolution there and I refuse to harp back to a better time or regret the choices I've made. Well, maybe a one or two. I'm just questioning why my choices have meant going against the grain a little too often, ascending that steep hill when I could have gone up the footpath just over there. Is something greater telling me I'm not meant to be doing what I'm doing? I feel it's time to challenge this before it's too late or otherwise I may resign myself to accepting my circumstances.

"Well, what can I say to that Richard?" I hear you cry. Well, nothing. I just wanted to get that out in the open. Clear my head space as always before those thoughts bounce round my cranium any further. I agree what most are probably thinking - the grass is greener, we make the best choices to suit the situation we're in, all our lives are a random path and so on.

I have realised my old life back in London was chockablock. I was ultra, mega, stupendously busy. Even my hobbies were time consuming.

I went to work.
I went to screenings after work
I rehearsed for 10 months of the year.
I did a show twice a year.
I did the marketing for the shows.
I did tap classes.
I did singing classes.
I 'tried' to write.
I wrote a blog.
I tried to date.
I socialised.
I saw my friends.
I hosted dinner parties & events.
I went to the gym.
And so on...

I did many other things and it's taken my sister to suggest perhaps my body and mind have decided to shut down for a bit and have a rest since arriving here in Australia. It makes sense why I feel so 'spent'. So I find myself only handling a few tasks and wondering why I don't have the drive or imagination to push myself again. I'm no longer content repeating my life in the same way and its forced me into a limbo period. Much like my friend Charlie, I constantly want to push myself further and never take the time to take stock and reflect on what I've achieved most of the time but here I am looking at my life at last. Apologies if most of what I am writing is drivel.

How many of really have control over our 'life choices'? Deepak Chopra's tells us to send our dreams out there and they will come back to you, Paul McKenna tells us to hypnotise ourselves into positive thinking, others just say work hard and you will be rewarded. Whatever we use to justify and focus our minds to the job in hand, the cynic inside of me wonders whether in fact it's a choice between the lesser of two evils or perhaps not having worthwhile obvious choice laid out before us. I am reading a biography of Stephen Sondheim at the moment. I wanted to discover how the greatest musical theatre composer of our time came to be where he is now by battling against the odds and facing permanent rejection, but in fact it's quite the opposite. Sondheim was, dare I say it, in a privileged situation to be able to achieve. I'm not saying it wasn't easy for him but many factors of his upbringing and the people he either knew or was introduced to, sure helped to forge the person he is now today. For example, being partially raised by the Hammersteins as young boy and Sondheim was also Manhattan upper class thanks to his parents social status. Yes, I thought 'Lucky bugger' too. Although, he had a mother who declared his birth was the worse thing that happened to her life, so it's not all 'coming up roses' as Sondheim would write.

Luck I've decided, is dependent on someone giving you the dice to throw in the first place.

Perhaps I'm not meant to be living this particular life. Perhaps it's time I should listen to my gut instincts despite the world furrowing it's responsible brow at me. Give myself a little faith I usually reserve for others. Go get that dream and really do have no regrets.

Don't talk like a slut Shelley...

Those of you may know, I am currently taking extra lessons in tap every Sunday and Monday now. Sunday class is specifically Broadway Tap (more jazz hands and I tend to sweat a lot more essentially). I love these classes, even though tapping is not my strong point, I want get better at it. As Mary Poppins would say, practice makes perfect. Ironically one of my fellow tap dancers in this class is none other than Emma Williams who played the part of Shelley in the West End production of Bat Boy. Emma, for those not familiar with her recent media coverage, was going to 'support' Connie Francis and also play Maria in 'The Sound of Music' when it opened at The Palladium last year. She decided to pull out and lots of media hoopla proceeded, with suggestions Emma not wanting to be seen as an 'understudy' (fair enough to me, if that's the case). Certain papers accusing the show of 'fixing' the reality TV competition. Emma was also the youngest ever female to play a lead in the West End for her part as Truly Scrumptuous in 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'. I hope she forgives me if I got any of the information wrong just now (and for the fact I've actually put up a link to a Daily Mail article -shudder down spine- something I try not to promote as a rule) Emma obviously knows 'Bat Boy' inside and out and was really enthusiastic to find out we're doing the show. Hopefully, she can come and see the show come June.

More reason to put on great show. No pressure.

On another musical note, I purchased the new Broadway version of 'Company', my favourite Sondheim musical. About a single guy called Robert who refuses to settle down and is surrounded by various couples, all wondering why such a great guy like him is, well, single. Lots of observation about dating, relationships and the ultimate realisation of what it truly means to find someone you can love. (Any similarities to my situation are purely coincidental of course. I can't emphasise with one bit - stop scoffing. Yes, you at the back. Yes, I'm pointing at you. I heard that, take that back right now). This new recording has revamped the original 1970s score whilst still retaining what was true and poignant. Go buy it now. It's a musical for adults who have real problems. Not a single jazz hand in sight but some of the best lyrics ever written.