I walked into the muddy field carrying a wooden chair on my back/shoulder.
As I walked I felt my feet sink into the soft mud. Some bits where softer than others. I walked a long time … I wanted to be almost equidistant from any obvious border.
The wind was cold
I placed the chair on the ground and I sat on it. I felt the chair sink into the mud.
I looked around.
I saw Gogo and Didi in my mind’s eye.
I was very aware of my surroundings.
I started to write what I could remember of Beckett's Waiting for Godot in my notebook.
I remember my eyes and ears very opened to my surroundings… There were some birds flying and making a noise. A train went past; I could hear the cars gushing by on the nearby road. I tried to incorporate these into the play but felt couldn’t describe those sounds properly on the paper. I scribbled them out.
I was trying to get the right rhythm of the play on the paper.
I started to get cold.
I stood up and walked away from the chair…. As I walked I remembered the character’s of the play, specially Gogo as he, at one point walks around the field, looking at the landscape. I was very aware of the mud under my feet.
I sat down on a clump of mud and wrote some more.
I stood up again and walked and ran back to the chair. I could feel the cold wind.
I sat down on the chair and resumed the writing. I was feeling quite cold but I new that I had more in my mind that I could write on the paper.
I started to get my lines mixed up. I couldn’t remember complete sentences but I could remember the gist of things so I noted it down.
I thought I would carry on for a while yet.
I suddenly felt very cold.
I suddenly felt very tired.
I was cold,
I was tired,
I was hungry.
I felt a bit ill.
I decided that this was the time to end with the sentence that said We will go there on our honey moon.
Tiredness, cold and sadness got hold off me.
I stopped writing.
I thought of Gogo and Didi, I thought of immigrants nowadays … that they walk and walk and travel and travel… not being sure when the next meal, the next bed, the next warm place to be safe and comfortable will arrive.
I felt sleepy
I walked back to the house.
I placed my self near the fire. The cold was rushing inside me making me feel sad and ill.
I slowly became myself.
No one but Kate saw the performance.
Photography by Kate Buckley
