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Bear with me: Stitches @TheHopeTheatre

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What if your teddy bear could talk? My ten-year-old self would think that to be excellent. My more recent self would think it was a high-concept buddy movie with Mark Wahlberg. But in Stictches, Jonathan Blakeley's monologue, which he has written and performed, traces the life of his beloved Chloe, from when she was first given to him by her grandmother, wrapped with a red ribbon. It becomes a story not just about a cute bear (or maybe that should be rough, shaggy-looking bear given the performer’s appearance) observing life but an exploration of life and all of its stages. It's currently playing at the Hope Theatre .  The bear is not warm and fuzzy; he is a bit of a character and tough-talking, but also a bit anxious about being accepted and then discarded as nothing. But he is there to bear witness as she navigates the complicated facets of growing up and having a life. Ultimately, the bear has to deal with being consigned to a box with her other memories until circumstances

The art of Feedburning...

Adding Feedburner to my site has unearthed some interesting things about who reads my blog. For instance if you search Google using the following terms my blog is (apparently) of assistance: Nearest IKEA store to Finsbury Park (but I prefer John Lewis !) Catherine Naglestad Tosca Covent Garden 2006 (fair enough I did write about that) Paul Lange Australia address (who the fuck is that?) BFI Southbank (fair enough I have been there a bit in the past week) THE RISING BALLAD OF MANGAL PANDEY (there's no need to shout!) Testicle torture Daniel Craig (what?) Hampstead Heath gay exact location (what am I George Michael's personal assistant?) And alas if you type "Paul in London" and "motherfucker" in Google I somehow top the list...

Good housekeeping

Tonight while I have had a quiet night in, in between playing "Rear Window" with the neighbours in the properties opposite my bedroom window, I have made some minor changes to the blog layout including setting up being able to Subscribe to Paul in London by Email ... So Mum and that other guy from Wichita who reads the blog can know when I update...