Despite my parents throwing my last pair of skates in a skip while I was at university it took 1 week of lockdown for me to come to the conclusion that I needed a pair to get through this. And while my Instagram is full of inspirational figure skaters axelling away on off-ice skates I couldn’t really justify the £235 outlay and by the time I’d thought to invest, every skater on the planet had had the same idea. With UK government guidelines permitting people leaving the house only to shop for essentials, receive medical treatment or for one form of exercise per day, I needed to do something and as the kid still traumatised by cross-country (why did we only do it in the rain or snow?), it would be a long time before I got desperate enough to go for a run. I spent last Christmas in Spain with a friend, hiring bicycles to explore the locality. ‘It’s like learning to ride a bike’. What I learnt was how many hours everyone else spent on a bike when I was skating. I never fell off but at no point did I think ‘Oh I might ditch my car and buy a bike’. Fat chance!
So two weeks into state-induced incarceration and fatigued from repeated walks to the bottom of Woolsington village and back (a nice walk but not when done every day), I finally found what I’d been looking for. ‘No Fear’ white quad skates. While my last skates were inliners, I’d obviously started out on quads and the two times I’d donned skates in the last decade and a half had been on quads. Regardless whether you’re a skater or not, they’re beautiful, proper figure skater boots. 2 and a bit weeks on I’ve relearnt forward and backward figure of eights, can bunny hop, do a basic jump but blimely o’reilly the missed years have taken there toll. But gosh I’ve missed it. Jayne Torvill has described skating as the closest thing to flying and she’s right. I might more than lack elegance and poise but with my headphones in and wheels on my feet, for an all too short time I can forget about the mess we’re all in and it’s like being a kid again, just me and my skates.
In the first week of lockdown I swiftly signed up for an improv class with Hoopla. Usually I attend improv class at least once a week (as well as acting class at Newcastle’s Theatre Royal). In the first week or so of lockdown I managed to keep myself productive; formatting a script I’d recently completed, wrote a (poor) monologue, took up zumba, began BSL lessons. But like many I suspect, a few weeks on, all those great intentions began to fade. William Shakespeare wrote King Lear while in lockdown from the plague. Yeah? Well old Bill didn’t have Netflix or a full-time job to distract him. I began writing a novel when I was about 17. I no longer have the original manuscript, but it’s a story I’ve attempted to get down repeatedly over the years. When the British Prime Minister, Boris Johnson first announced we were going into lockdown I decided it was time to finally get on and write that novel. I didn’t have time before. Time is the one thing we’ve all got plenty of now. So how’s it going? I haven’t so much as opened up a blank word document.
I have however, in the last week, finally been able to concentrate long enough to start binge watching Netflix (Life on Mars, Dinnerladies, Tiger King, Only Fools and Horses). At the start of lockdown I couldn’t really focus enough to follow a plot or read a book. I’ve also signed up to audible taking in Sandi Toksvig and Michelle Obama’s autobiographies to date and delighted in podcasts new and old (All Killa No Filla, RHLSTP, Off Menu, Your Dead to Me). To be creative it helps to surround yourself with creativity and it’s perfectly ok not to feel inspired in the midst of a global health crisis. You’re not working from home. You’re at home in the middle of a pandemic attempting to distract yourself by working.You’re not on a writer’s retreat! I’ve been blessed not to have suffered any additional insomnia (with ADHD my angsty brain never finds it easy to switch off at the best of times). My mother mentioned to me that she was pleased she’d seen a report early on detailing the likely increase in folk suffering night terrors. It’s a normal reaction. Deprived sleep, anxiety and fear may influence some types of story telling but their not states conducive to positivity. It’s okay to not be okay.
For the last three weeks I’ve been doing a Facebook live video each weekend listing 10 things from a different category each week (numbers, women, hairstyles etc) which you can find here This has given me the opportunity to do a little (and I mean little) research in advance, write a vague bit on each thing I’m going to talk about and then just do it. I haven’t written scripts (which shows), but I’ve purposely not put myself under too much pressure to be funny, or interesting or original (which doubtless also shows) but with months ahead before any performance opportunities arise this is my self care.
Talking of care, like many I have been joining in with the weekly clap for carers where folk all over the UK stand on their front door step at 7pm each Thursday and clap for a minute (or a lot longer in my street’s case) to say thank you for all of those working on the front line; medics, carers, bin men, railway workers, teachers, retail workers etc. As a former supermarket worker it’s telling that those so often looked down on by their better paid compatriots have suddenly become so valued. While I’m certainly in no rush for a pay cut, the worst paid jobs I’ve had have been the most mentally and physically demanding. In usual circumstances, being on your feet all day, heavy lifting and dealing with grumpy members of the public is a tough gig but I struggle to imagine combining those conditions with risking your health (no-one seems to be fighting for PPE (personal protective equipment) for those on the frontline in Tesco or Marks and Spencers).
White Skates 