Every Brilliant Thing

ebt

I have rarely felt so full of love walking out of a theatre. I want to go and make a playlist of all the songs. I want to tell everyone I love that I love them. I want to go and eat ice cream and watch Jumanji and buy a record player so I can buy records and then read the sleevenotes.

I want to send everyone I know to see it. The ones who are having a really tough time at the moment. The ones who say plays aren’t their thing. The ones who need a break from work. The ones I haven’t spoken to in too long. The ones I want to share laughter and stories and embarrassing moments with.

In Every Brilliant Thing there is a list of all of the best things about life. The list is made to stop someone from killing themselves. It doesn’t work. But it is a brilliant list.

In the play the list gets to 1 million. I’d like to add a few, if that’s okay.

  1. Being embarrassed in front of your friend as you’re made to take off a single shoe and sock to make a sock dog, being asked to name it and somehow only being able to think of ‘Mr Socky’.
  2. How every single person who was involved in that piece was made to feel welcomed and loved and laughed at in the best way possible.
  3. Being able to go through the list at the end and see people’s additions: 414. Earlobes.
  4. How on it that Stage Manager was.
  5. How much my grandma would love Jonny Donahoe.
  6. Walking back from The Tobacco Factory, seeing a cyclist come towards you, stopping to let the cyclist go by, feeling confused as the cyclist slows down next to you and awkwardly realising you’ve stopped right in front of their house.
  7. Not looking where you’re going and almost being attacked by a bush.
  8. Eating strawberry laces as you discuss the warmth and openness in that room.
  9. Singing the Indiana Jones theme tune when you’re walking up Bristolian hills.
  10. Walking the rest of the way home in silence not because you don’t have anything to say, but because you’re too full of strawberry laces and every brilliant thing.

Tobacco Factory Theatre, 10/09/2015

P.s. I wrote more about Duncan Macmillan and Every Brilliant Thing here

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2 Comments

  1. Ali Robertson
    10th October 2015 / 6:15 am

    You were Mr Socky? You were fab. As was everyone in the room last night, and as are your articles above and linked.

  2. Pingback: 2015 | kate wyver

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