So we are back, we are landed, and we are taking stock.
We’ve had a little post-pause; pause… as it were.
I have overseen workmen coming and insulating my flat, walked around Strood on a sprained ankle, and spent time working on events production and planning with teens in Maidstone.
Pause over.
So lets reflect…
…We think we can call the weekend we spent at Derby Festé a nice, big, juicy success.
It went like this… (Excuse me while I shake my brain to make sure it comes out in the right order…)
Friday - Rick, Daisy and Laura head up to Derby with 4 large wheeled suitcases, 1 box of flat-pack shelving, two large holdalls and an umbrella.
Saturday - Two gazebos, deep pink in colour and carpeted inside, are erected on Market Place opposite an enormous green blow up slide featuring The Hulk and charging £1.50 for 5 goes. (Apparently 27 makes you too old to have a go)
5 jars in each gazebo
1 bookcase in each gazebo,
2 chairs in each gazebo,
1 rug in each gazebo,
1 performer in each gazebo…
11 o’clock rolls around and it begins:
In couples and alone people start to book in and fill up our 5 minute sessions up.
Allowing for 12 sessions an hour (6 apiece for the 2 performers) bookings overtake walk-ins very quickly… we were kind of anticipating a warm up period, maybe some dips and lulls in audience attendance throughout the day… Nope…
In fact, so popular did Audio Treatment, Complimentary Therapy, Burden loss Treatment, Transportative therapy and Achievement treatment appear to be… that we stayed open for nearly an extra hour at the end of the day.
I’d call that successful.
Sunday - More of the same… though this time in the pleasant park land in front of Derby Cathedral… fittingly named Cathedral Green.
Oh, and for 2 hours less into the evening. We had to pack up the various cases, bags, boxes and brollies and hot foot it to the train station for the trawl home.
In all we saw 170 people, giving away as many happy endings. Our hands were feeling a bit drunk from all the alcohol-based antiseptic hand wash, our eyes needed some time to adjust to a world that was not pink. We turned away nearly 150 people as we just couldn’t fit them in… next time it’ll be 3 gazebos…
BUT…..
Lists and flippant descriptions aside though, that’s only half the story.
Statistics, timings, bookings, gazebos, rugs and jars…
There’s some video to be posted on good ol’ YouTube and we’ll keep you posted on its posting… as it were…
In the mean time, I have yen to explain how magical, sweet, bizarre and soothing the whole experience was…
During a ’group session’ of Complimentary Therapy I saw an 8 year old boy burst into tears when his Dad paid him the compliment that “I really love spending time with you and love how great it feels to be with you…”
This was not about exploitation, nor was it about encouraging big emotive gestures (though it did not actively discourage them either). This was about offering clients a chance to remember how it feels to hear nice things said to them. This was about offering a client a chance to remember how it feels to say nice things about someone close to them.
“I love the backs of you knees..” (giggles from both)
“I love that you make me try new things”
“I like your domestic pottering, cos I like domestic pottering too”
As with happy endings, a compliment for one person can mean nothing to another.
Watching people smile as their burdens were swallowed up and taken away was warming. I never knew what people wrote on their little slip of paper. The paper had a line, a word, an image that summed up their burden, the one they wanted to be rid of. This was burden loss…
Watching someone go from concentration on their most burdensome of burdens to a smile, a giggle, a full on laugh… seeing how somebody, everybody, changes they way they sit, move, emote once they have laughed or smiled. That’s a nice thing to witness.
This was probably, and maybe unsurprisingly, the most popular of treatments. By the end of the weekend I almost felt I owed those clients something. A thank you for sharing that moment with me.
I don’t really want to talk through all the therapies here. I need to balance my literary drive with theatrical mystique and avoid further descriptions…
I will say though, that simply sitting in a tent with a person, sharing a lose proximity, even for 5 minutes, seems to offer surprises and shocks and even those dangerous warm fuzzy feelings we’ve mostly learnt to be suspicious of… maybe it was the pinkness of it all…
R