SACCADES.
A man told me a story. It was about an old friend who used to build houses.
He had built nearly a whole street of houses.
While thinking about his old friend, the man began to cry.
He couldnt tell if he was crying tears of happiness or sadness.
He wasnt sure of the difference.
The man realised that he himself, was very much like a house.
A house with many windows where he sits, crying on the passers by to come and love him.
He then began to realise that love is an inspirational gift basket.
That dogs are incapable of understanding why humans yawn and that loneliness had only ever visited him on cold winter days.
P.S About what I said earlier, that was wrong. Im sorry. I really meant to say
Tu as un beaux cheval.
NB: Translation #1 You have lovely hair. Translation #2 You have a lovely horse.
Hello, my name is Nic Green and I live in Glasgow. The work I show in the theatrical space is often the result/accumulation of day to day projects and performances. These take me far from the rehearsal space and into situations where strangers become my friends, if only briefly. I recently graduated from the contemporary theatre practice course in Glasgow.