My flat is littered with mementos from past productions, and each holds a reminder of beautiful memories and (sometimes reluctant) lessons.
My little theatre angel goes wherever I do, reminding me of the day I found my voice. A plaque, a sea shell, a worry stone... all small pieces that illuminate the parts of my life I never want to forget. And here, at my window, sits the little fairy that reminds me of days spent rehearsing in a cold, sunny winter. Days spent curled up against a heater, etching in stage directions and watching two talented men explore a script. Days spent in awe of one of the greatest actor's I've ever known. Days when even my thick wooly lumberjack socks couldn't keep me warm, but somehow the beauty of theatre did. Days I never want to fade from my mind.
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