Updated: Nov 29, 2020
"You're recklessly bohemian", my friend said, his mouth agape at not only the size of the cake I had just purchased but the fact that, only a moment ago, I was telling him how poor I was, how the dream of the penniless actor was coming true. It was the summer of 2012 and the Edinburgh Fringe was in full swing.
I was living the high life: going to bed before 10 pm, then waking before 10 am to perform a morning children's show - something that really shouldn't be allowed at the fringe. Of course, it is all worth it to perform to four people on a rainy Sunday, destroying a child's innocent image of Alice in Wonderland (the Catholic schoolgirl look, I'm still truly sorry), in the process.
Back to the window, where two cakes sang the siren song to me... and two minutes later, my heart and stomach danced with joy, whilst my head was doing some serious maths and tearing its hair out. From then on, I was crowned a Reckless Bohemian (well at least I was in my head).
Fast forward a few years later, my 'Reckless Bohemian' persona rears its head once again. This time I was in ASDA, again working out what we could buy with what we found under the sofa along with our actor wages for the last month. We: Oh yes I was not alone with me a man of great ingenuity who was there with me on that faithful day in Edinburgh (mouth full of fancy baked delights), and has been by my side ever since.
So back to ASDA: counting our money... pasta - check. Wait, who was it we saw? None other than Martin Freeman. The plan had changed. It was now a mission: Stalk Martin Freeman. I started skulking the aisles whilst partner finds a DVD of The Hobbit. That was as far as our plan went. What would happen once we got him to sign it? We didn’t know, maybe we’d slip in the fact that we're both struggling actors and we loved The Office and The Hobbit and were thinking… damn, where’d he go? At the check-out now, there he is, quickly bought the DVD and he’s out the door. I ran after him but he had vanished. Must’ve put the ring on we chuckle, as we take home our brand new copy of The Hobbit along with a packet of pasta, hoisin sauce, and 3 bottles of wine for a tenner, slightly worried about our evening's repast.
Gutted though we were, it was the chase and possibility that got us excited, just like in Edinburgh although that time it was a prospect of sugar after days of Scottish breakfasts, lots of booze, then getting up far too early. Although it was the role of a lifetime: Alice, in 'Alice in Wonderland!' My big break or breaking point maybe - the first-time boyfriend and I both cried together. One night of lured drunkenness leading me to impersonate one of the multifaceted actor/director/slash anything else you can think of, who had cultivated the art of fainting whenever someone asked her a difficult question this of course was caught on camera. Do I regret it? I couldn’t possibly comment.
Edinburgh fringe and chasing Martin Freeman through ASDA aside, there have been many reckless and many bohemian moments... sometimes simultaneously. Although I feel I have calmed over the years because of enforced maturity and coming to terms with huge life-changing experiences (understatement), I feel as though the days of the Reckless Bohemian will be freed once again.
Recently my recklessness has revealed itself in impromptu Stand-up comedy gigs with no preparation and clutching a script (cringing just thinking about it), boxing classes after two box fit sessions (very different sports), oh and moving halfway around the world and moving back home again, putting someone's used gum in my mouth as a sign of friendship (never would happen in this climate), and sending a script semi-based on my life experiences (where I’ve immortalized myself as a children’s princess entertainer), to my old therapist - which includes a scene entitled 'I'm not crazy, my therapist says I’m not’. Still waiting for her feedback…
This blog will give you an insight into the neuro-diverse, wonderland-esqe & sticky-fingered mind of a Reckless Bohemian. Enjoy, and I hope you don’t get too lost in the cluttered pathways of my mind.