We need your help to get into the bed, in the shed, people need to say their things!
For Your Help We Will Send You:
1: €10 – a note containing one of the Granny’s words of wisdom for living, personal to what you need.
2: €20 – a copy of a rant in prose from the notebooks of the performer 1990 to present – you pick the year!
3: €50 – a copy of a poem from the notebooks of the performer 1990 to present – you pick the year!
4: €100 – a copy of the timeline to be constructed throughout the run of the show - it’s all our biography.
5: €200 – a private conversation in the bed in the shed with the performer.
HOW TO HELP....
JUST CLICK ON THE DONATE BUTTON FOR A SECURE PAYPAL DONATION!
If you can't help financially there are other ways...
YOU can LIKE our page on Facebook and SHARE it with your Friends!
www.facebook.com/pages/In-My-Bed/250016748361014
YOU can subscribe to our BLOG and SHARE it with your Friends!
inmybed2011.blogspot.com
AND, very IMPORTANT...You can BUY a TICKET to the show!!!
www.fringefest.com/event/in-my-bed
Image by Niamh Burke-Kennedy
It's startin' to happen, it's happenin'
So, last night me and Niamh went on an adventure around The Liberties. Do you know why it's called The Liberties? We were supposed to be in the shed, but the shed was locked up, we couldn't get access, so we had to make a detour, de-tour, up to Dublin 8.
We started in the Grotto on Meath Street, it was closed but we got in the side gate, we even got to meet the Priest, he's a nice priest, he was takin the rubbish out, offered to open the shutter on the votary candles an all but we didn't bother with that.
We took ourselves up to Marrowbone Lane after that. It was raining, started to rain down heavy and we were worried about the camera. We stood under a tree just inside the gate of A Block. A Block is the posh block. After seconds, a couple of women and a man were out, leanin on the first floor balcony lookin at us.
I used to live here, I say, up there in 305 on the top floor, we lived down the end of the balcony first, then me Ma got the keys to that one. When? she says, ah years ago I say, we moved out when I was 10. I'm here all me life, she says, what's your name? Dyas I say, what's your Ma's name? she says, Melda I say, ah yeah, I remember her, she says.
There's a seagull on the roof, just over our flat, it's still our flat, in me head, always will be, don't know why we moved out, they're gorgeous flats now. I'm looking up at our windows, there's lilies in them now, and I'm thinking of me uncles for some reason, they used to spend a lot of time with us there in the '80's when they were in Art College. "What do you call a man with a seagull on his head?" "Cliff" and I think this is hilarious, when I'm 9, I still think it's hilarious and I'm 34! I'm thinkin about me Granda comin round after his shift round the corner in Guinness's bringin me the sweets and the TK red lemonade. Usually it was Jelly Tots and a Yorky Bar, the Yorky bar was great, but it was very big. I used to make gunge cake out of them, put everything in a bowl, mix it all up, spill the TK red Lemonade in and mix it all round. I have a little cry then, wish I could hold them there a little longer, wish I could.
After that we stroll down to Katie's lane, a recent title for the place, it's at the side of Vicar Street, leads from Thomas St to Vicar Street Flats or from Vicar Street Flats to Thomas St depending on what way your goin! I wander around the lane for a while, sayin me things, I don't really know what I'm sayin, I've no idea what I'm sayin at this stage and neither does Niamh! I don't really like the lane, it's depressin me. My connotations aren't very pleasant, this isn't the actually lane now, just a representation of the lane. It's makin me sad, lanes are secret places, places people go so as not to be seen, you can't tell any one, secret things happen in lanes, things that people are ashamed of, things that aren't kosher happen in lanes. I'm ramblin away, ramblin now 'cos its making me uncomfortable and Niamh is filmin away and I'm smokin' too many cigarettes, there aren't enough cigarettes in the world to make this easier.
We walk up Katie's Lane towards Vicar Street flats, headin for the Coombe to see me school, was me school, its up for sale now, ragin' about that, it's bad enough they put a big road through the Coombe splittin the community, now the school is up for sale, it's over a hundred years old, ragin about that. So we're just coming out at the top of the lane when Niamh stops and says, Veronica, it's a bed! I'm not really payin attention, and a chair! She says. I'm used to walkin passed dump sites so I wasn't even mindin'. When we investigate further there's a rockin chair too. Now, the whole place smells of piss, you can't get that on film, but it really does, its awful, so I rummage in the rubbish and find some damp cardboard and put it on the chair. I'm havin a great time now, I'm havin a great time, this is delighting me I say, I'm delighted by this! And Niamh is too, though she's having a few technical issues! And I sit on the rockin chair, wafflin away, wafflin away but it's happy stuff, it's happy stuff now. Where's me shed Niamh, where's me shed! I say, tormentin her, don't know how she puts up with me sometimes! I think it's hilarious, but it's not really that funny! I smoke a few cigarettes in the chair and the Bells of the Angeles plays away, constantly, like magic.
This is better than the shed Niamh, this is the Universe liaising us! I say, you and your Universe, she says, but we're both delighted really!
We started in the Grotto on Meath Street, it was closed but we got in the side gate, we even got to meet the Priest, he's a nice priest, he was takin the rubbish out, offered to open the shutter on the votary candles an all but we didn't bother with that.
We took ourselves up to Marrowbone Lane after that. It was raining, started to rain down heavy and we were worried about the camera. We stood under a tree just inside the gate of A Block. A Block is the posh block. After seconds, a couple of women and a man were out, leanin on the first floor balcony lookin at us.
I used to live here, I say, up there in 305 on the top floor, we lived down the end of the balcony first, then me Ma got the keys to that one. When? she says, ah years ago I say, we moved out when I was 10. I'm here all me life, she says, what's your name? Dyas I say, what's your Ma's name? she says, Melda I say, ah yeah, I remember her, she says.
There's a seagull on the roof, just over our flat, it's still our flat, in me head, always will be, don't know why we moved out, they're gorgeous flats now. I'm looking up at our windows, there's lilies in them now, and I'm thinking of me uncles for some reason, they used to spend a lot of time with us there in the '80's when they were in Art College. "What do you call a man with a seagull on his head?" "Cliff" and I think this is hilarious, when I'm 9, I still think it's hilarious and I'm 34! I'm thinkin about me Granda comin round after his shift round the corner in Guinness's bringin me the sweets and the TK red lemonade. Usually it was Jelly Tots and a Yorky Bar, the Yorky bar was great, but it was very big. I used to make gunge cake out of them, put everything in a bowl, mix it all up, spill the TK red Lemonade in and mix it all round. I have a little cry then, wish I could hold them there a little longer, wish I could.
After that we stroll down to Katie's lane, a recent title for the place, it's at the side of Vicar Street, leads from Thomas St to Vicar Street Flats or from Vicar Street Flats to Thomas St depending on what way your goin! I wander around the lane for a while, sayin me things, I don't really know what I'm sayin, I've no idea what I'm sayin at this stage and neither does Niamh! I don't really like the lane, it's depressin me. My connotations aren't very pleasant, this isn't the actually lane now, just a representation of the lane. It's makin me sad, lanes are secret places, places people go so as not to be seen, you can't tell any one, secret things happen in lanes, things that people are ashamed of, things that aren't kosher happen in lanes. I'm ramblin away, ramblin now 'cos its making me uncomfortable and Niamh is filmin away and I'm smokin' too many cigarettes, there aren't enough cigarettes in the world to make this easier.
We walk up Katie's Lane towards Vicar Street flats, headin for the Coombe to see me school, was me school, its up for sale now, ragin' about that, it's bad enough they put a big road through the Coombe splittin the community, now the school is up for sale, it's over a hundred years old, ragin about that. So we're just coming out at the top of the lane when Niamh stops and says, Veronica, it's a bed! I'm not really payin attention, and a chair! She says. I'm used to walkin passed dump sites so I wasn't even mindin'. When we investigate further there's a rockin chair too. Now, the whole place smells of piss, you can't get that on film, but it really does, its awful, so I rummage in the rubbish and find some damp cardboard and put it on the chair. I'm havin a great time now, I'm havin a great time, this is delighting me I say, I'm delighted by this! And Niamh is too, though she's having a few technical issues! And I sit on the rockin chair, wafflin away, wafflin away but it's happy stuff, it's happy stuff now. Where's me shed Niamh, where's me shed! I say, tormentin her, don't know how she puts up with me sometimes! I think it's hilarious, but it's not really that funny! I smoke a few cigarettes in the chair and the Bells of the Angeles plays away, constantly, like magic.
This is better than the shed Niamh, this is the Universe liaising us! I say, you and your Universe, she says, but we're both delighted really!
WE NEED HELP TO MAKE THIS SHOW!
We're Starting to Say Our Things...
In My Bed has been in the making for a long time. It’s about my life but I couldn’t make this show until now, although I tried in various forms, I’ve notebooks of poems and rambles from 1990 to now, but it’s taken me thirty-four years to look in the mirror and see myself.
There’s a process at play, there’s the Universe, and there’s the Chasm.
I’m making this show because I’ve come to believe that “People NEED to say their things”. It’s simple but it’s huge. I smothered mine for years, was too afraid to speak, too ashamed to let anyone know who I was. Shame is a big thing. Shame is a huge thing. I think it’s one of the most powerful emotions, and there’s no action in shame, it’s a closing-in emotion, it isolates and diminishes the soul.
In My Bed I’m attempting to let go of the shame that is not mine.
I’m tired of being passive, I’ve exhausted all passive avenues. I can’t make anyone else feel anything, I can only share my story, but I’ve discovered that when we talk, really talk, and try to be real with each other, something amazing happens, something gets lighter, something becomes free, we move collectively towards becoming totally free.
In My Bed in the shed I’m going to say me things, I’m going to talk to the audience, just talk, that’s all. I’m going to try to tell you my story. It’s hard in an hour! There’s any number of stories I could tell, there’s a thousand people I could talk about who touched my life (so far!). I’m going to talk about my Granny, my other Mother, I’m going to talk about the women I love, and the fear of loving them. I’m going to talk about what happened that made me stop being able to love, for a long time. I’m going to say me things. I’m holdin’ the space from the bed in the shed, I’m going to talk to you.
In My Bed needs an intimate setting for the conversation to happen, each show has an audience of only twenty people. I’ve been very lucky in finding amazing people to work with me, literally out of the goodness of their hearts. Niamh Burke-Kennedy has been patiently helping me to tell my story and is directing the show, and in the background Rachel O’Byrne, Producer is making it all happen. But there are costs that can’t be negotiated, however much in-kind support we receive, there is a need for a small amount of actual money which we need to make this show.
We need your help to get into the bed, in the shed, people need to say their things, it’s important!
For Your Help We Will Send You:
1: €10 – a note containing one of the Granny’s words of wisdom for living, personal to what you need.
2: €20 – a copy of a rant in prose from the notebooks of the performer 1990 to present – you pick the year!
3: €50 – a copy of a poem from the notebooks of the performer 1990 to present – you pick the year!
4: €100 – a copy of the timeline to be constructed throughout the run of the show - it’s all our biography.
5: €200 – a private conversation in the bed in the shed with the performer.
HOW TO HELP....
JUST CLICK ON THE DONATE BUTTON FOR A SECURE PAYPAL DONATION!
If you can't help financially there are other ways...
YOU can LIKE our page on Facebook and SHARE it with your Friends!
www.facebook.com/pages/In-My-Bed/250016748361014
YOU can subscribe to our BLOG and SHARE it with your Friends!
inmybed2011.blogspot.com
AND, very IMPORTANT...You can BUY a TICKET to the show!!!
www.fringefest.com/event/in-my-bed
In My Bed has been in the making for a long time. It’s about my life but I couldn’t make this show until now, although I tried in various forms, I’ve notebooks of poems and rambles from 1990 to now, but it’s taken me thirty-four years to look in the mirror and see myself.
There’s a process at play, there’s the Universe, and there’s the Chasm.
I’m making this show because I’ve come to believe that “People NEED to say their things”. It’s simple but it’s huge. I smothered mine for years, was too afraid to speak, too ashamed to let anyone know who I was. Shame is a big thing. Shame is a huge thing. I think it’s one of the most powerful emotions, and there’s no action in shame, it’s a closing-in emotion, it isolates and diminishes the soul.
In My Bed I’m attempting to let go of the shame that is not mine.
I’m tired of being passive, I’ve exhausted all passive avenues. I can’t make anyone else feel anything, I can only share my story, but I’ve discovered that when we talk, really talk, and try to be real with each other, something amazing happens, something gets lighter, something becomes free, we move collectively towards becoming totally free.
In My Bed in the shed I’m going to say me things, I’m going to talk to the audience, just talk, that’s all. I’m going to try to tell you my story. It’s hard in an hour! There’s any number of stories I could tell, there’s a thousand people I could talk about who touched my life (so far!). I’m going to talk about my Granny, my other Mother, I’m going to talk about the women I love, and the fear of loving them. I’m going to talk about what happened that made me stop being able to love, for a long time. I’m going to say me things. I’m holdin’ the space from the bed in the shed, I’m going to talk to you.
In My Bed needs an intimate setting for the conversation to happen, each show has an audience of only twenty people. I’ve been very lucky in finding amazing people to work with me, literally out of the goodness of their hearts. Niamh Burke-Kennedy has been patiently helping me to tell my story and is directing the show, and in the background Rachel O’Byrne, Producer is making it all happen. But there are costs that can’t be negotiated, however much in-kind support we receive, there is a need for a small amount of actual money which we need to make this show.
We need your help to get into the bed, in the shed, people need to say their things, it’s important!
For Your Help We Will Send You:
1: €10 – a note containing one of the Granny’s words of wisdom for living, personal to what you need.
2: €20 – a copy of a rant in prose from the notebooks of the performer 1990 to present – you pick the year!
3: €50 – a copy of a poem from the notebooks of the performer 1990 to present – you pick the year!
4: €100 – a copy of the timeline to be constructed throughout the run of the show - it’s all our biography.
5: €200 – a private conversation in the bed in the shed with the performer.
HOW TO HELP....
JUST CLICK ON THE DONATE BUTTON FOR A SECURE PAYPAL DONATION!
If you can't help financially there are other ways...
YOU can LIKE our page on Facebook and SHARE it with your Friends!
www.facebook.com/pages/In-My-Bed/250016748361014
YOU can subscribe to our BLOG and SHARE it with your Friends!
inmybed2011.blogspot.com
AND, very IMPORTANT...You can BUY a TICKET to the show!!!
www.fringefest.com/event/in-my-bed
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