dependency in common

Photo: Martin Hübscher © September 2016

Latest portrait taken on the evening after a day's filming job which demonstrated the bromide that an actor only feels most truly themselves when playing a part - particularly during times of loss and damage, in this case a home-move.

It's addiction, not art, but there's still an interpretative process to go through.

In the middle of a back-breaking, doing-it-ourselves move from a big mouldy flat to a new-build the size of a doll's house new house, during which I lost the inlaid glass box my mother gave me, containing tender pearls and the earrings I wore on my wedding day, I got a day's job playing a rich woman whose only anxiety in her suburban palace was keeping count of her assets. Her greatest comfort was listing her jewellery to find out how much it was worth.

The queen was in her [counting-house Counting out her money] and as dependent on relics for self-validation as me.

That is what actors hope for, the key in which to play a character, the unexpected harmony with our selves illuminating understanding, the sentimental value of the coldest heart, so there's nothing foreign, nothing unforgiven, left.

Oh, you can still think they are silly or wrong, but for an hour or two they are you, and you are them, in different clothes, on different sets.