OBJECTS OUT THERE: A NON-STARTER EVENT.
WRITTEN BY K.R.L HIGGINS.
The stage is set out as a blank canvas that is dimly lit with a faint glow from its center. Directly overhead hanging in the middle is a large wooden frame that is painted white, hovering just a few inches from the ground. On its base is generic cup of tea in a ‘world’s best-actor mug’ and a half-eaten bowl of cereal that has been left just a little too long in the faint light.
Stood next to the hanging frame is a young man, dressed in grey pajama bottoms and no shirt, his hands are tightly clenched around each end of the frame and he stares blankly forward as if lost in thought. Around him is a variety of all manner of objects that have no reason for belonging in this given space. These objects differ from domestic small household ones, to one’s of a more practical nature. The energy delivered throughout should be fast and continuous.
In the background music is playing at a steady volume. (“I’m only sleeping” by The Beatles.) The audience are seated outside of the faint light in no organised order and are free to choose where they are seated.
The music continues to play until the performance is ready to begin and gently fades before being replaced. The lights rise to a crisp white.
MAN: I have a question, and I need a simple answer… how the fuck do I open a show, better yet what is my show? Is it political, topical, or just plain hypocritical. Am I supposed to be funny or energetic, or forgettable…?
What do I wear, if I wear anything at all!
The MAN takes a large spoonful of cereal and messily spills it down himself, taking no effort to wipe it away. He takes another spoonful and continues staring at his chest.
I think I should start by saying sorry, if this a start. I’m sorry I’m here and I’m sorry you’re here.
OK I’LL ADMIT IT I GOT DISTRACTED…
I procreated…Procrastinated! I let myself become stimulated by other things that peaked my interests.
I dropped the ball or balls.
The MAN heads over to several small balls on the ground and picks them up and begins juggling badly before abandoning it.
I’ve been doing it all my life. It’s something I could almost claim to be an expert at. I even do it in my sleep.
Procrastination is the thief of time. I’m going to steal your time. It’s ironic really.
The MAN takes another bite of cereal making no attempt to clear his previous mistake.
There is no show. There never was. I did plan on having something so interesting, so profound that you would need a month to get over it, you might have even need to phone in sick…
That could be food poisoning though.
Be careful the lasagna has razor-blades! (Mimes throwing a bowl)
The MAN takes a moment and a sip of the drink on the window frame before exhaling loudly and pulling a red tie from his pocket.
I couldn’t afford my set. I’m on a limited budget you see.
While the MAN is talking he begins to slowly arrange the red tie around his shirtless neck.
Tesco don’t sell backdrops or innovative staging-techniques. That stuff comes from Waitrose or Marks & Spencer’s. I’m stuck with fucking Lidl…
Once the red tie is arranged the MAN assumes a more professional manner, similar to that of a lecture about to give a speech. (Complete with mannerisms.)
ARE YOU LISTENING…I want to talk to you about procrastination. In many way I’m going to procrastinate while I do so. Procrastination is defined as:
The action of delaying… (Silence)…or postponing something, it is argued that human experience has become a highly engineered and therefore malleable thing.
Physiologists argue that attention might be categorized by whether it is goal-driven or stimulus driven.
The MAN pauses and swivels the tie around to the other side of his back and resumes standing at the window once again.
AM I STILL TALKING?
WHAT WAS I SAYING…?
Pessimism… no that’s not it.
I could tell a story about love or loss or hate…
I could make up the entire thing.
During his last words the MAN walks around the performance area and picks up several cardboard clouds and a large white sheet. He devises a long white rectangle out of the sheet and hands it to the audience at each end, and then presents the audience with several cardboard clouds in which he instructs them to move left and right throughout creating the flow of the clouds in the sky. From one of his pockets he hands out lollies in no particular order.
There is a blue wash over the audience.
They’re clouds, that’s a window. It’s a very simple show. The lollies are people.
The MAN throws the lollies into the air.
No thought went into this.
Chaos. Mundane. Pointless. All words I could use to describe this show, if it is a show.
Pay close attention to the most tedious thing you can find…
You’re not going to learn anything new here.
Do you want a sweet, they have been in my pocket for a while.
I always liked looking out at the world and seeing everyone differently. Knowing that all over this planet everyone is unique… from the beggar under a bridge to the king in his castle. All counting the hours and days.
Did you ever think that every house you see outside your window is unique from its wallpaper down to its floorboards? It’s an interesting thought.
I couldn’t decide what to wear, I thought this was the best option… smart casual. (Gestures to body.)
Maybe I should do drag in my show, I always looked great in a dress, that would stop the boredom.
I’m sorry I’m really not good at this kind of thing.
Image of MAN in drag flashes briefly behind him. During this he retakes the red ties and throws it back round his neck. After a moment the MAN walks over to a blazer that is laid on the floor. He quickly puts it one making a half-arsed attempt to look smart before talking. The lights return to the crisp-white wash.
I don’t think becoming distracted is bad it’s not a negative. It’s the opposite. I think I should embrace the dullness, who knows it might be interesting to explore!
I’ve always had this problem I can never make up my…
Learning how to think really means learning to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience.
I’m going to give it a go.
The MAN clears his throat before speaking. Heads over to a lamp placed on the ground and begins talking. He sits on the ground looking forward and talking in a causal manner.
It’s early evening, the sun is shining brightly (no effect)… The sun was shining brightly. (Clicks on the lamp.)I’m sat outside with my laptop on my lap and a random drink in my hand. I can’t afford Starbucks these days. I’m listening to blues, I think it’s the blues… It had rhythm and soul at least I thought it did.
(“Evening” by Hugh-Laurie) plays faintly in the background. Before it starts the MAN gives a gesture to acknowledge the music.
I had an hour to kill before meeting someone. I decide to write, people are giving me strange looks and stares. Why is he alone, where are his friends… How long do you think his laptop-battery will last? There are skaters in front of me… I find them annoying. I watch their clothes in the breeze. They keep looking at me and me them. I like the feeling of amenity… of not existing and trying, desperately, desperately trying to devise a profound show.
Should I play a game with the people watching me… Naughts and crosses, battleship. How about twister?
The music comes to a slow fade. The MAN stands up and takes off the tie dropping it to the floor and the blazer. (Turns off the lamp.)
I failed… See once again I’m distracted.
They’re all wearing the same shoes… it must be nice to be an individual these days!
Objects… I never explained the objects.
Have you ever had a conversation with yourself? Or in my case an argument… They are always right.
What If I gave everyone a balloon to hold, someone would most likely pop it… ruin the show.
Should I.
Would you understand?
Do I understand?
Where was I…? I’m always getting distracted.
Objects… I’ll get to that. (Pauses.)
There’re my distractions… There so many of all different shapes/sizes and uses.
Some are pointless. It’s a metaphor!
Most of them never get used. They are like scribbled pages deleted on Microsoft Paint. Destined for the recycle bin.
I warned you that little thought had gone into my thinking. Maybe I should have painted myself with yellow-paint… added a line from Shakespeare made some deeper meaning in my words.
“Been very arty about the whole thing.”
But no I’m stuck with this. I’m sorry.
I’m bored, discontent, annoyed.
It’s like stepping from black to white and into colour or am I just forgetting something.
Do you think dogs mind being colour-blind?
I really wanted to perform in my room… it would have been weird though, who wants a bunch of strangers looking in their sock-draw or worse. I settled for this and I picked and built everything myself.
(Goes to knock on the wooden window frame)
Better not tempt fate.
The MAN takes another random object off the floor this time a pillow and lays down looking up. When the MAN is laid on the floor he looks up and there is footage of day/night cycles that play projected onto the window. The lights wash to a natural blue and the MAN begins to speak.
Days and nights I have spent obsessing over this performance, about what I could do and what I could say. How people would react… Maybe I should give up.
Maybe I should invite someone on stage…
The MAN walks towards an audience member and reaches with an outstretched hand. He hands them a lolly and walks away.
Did you feel everyone get a little tense there?
If I would be sick or if someone would faint… How dare someone faint when I’m talking, it’s just rude.
Who would direct me?
I have one thing left to say or is it two I forget? (Pauses)
Do you want a biscuit?
The MAN Goes over to a plate of biscuits and begins to hand them out.
I’m going to have one. (Eats several biscuits)
This has been a lesson in procrastination. Yes granted it could have been better, there could have been better production values… But it is what it is.
But that is the point of it, there is no point. I just wasted my time and your time.
I feel cheated.
I had so much potential.
I’m a bit of a pessimist, I’m pretty sure you will think that. I’ll be judged for not being clever or inventive.
I was myself. I was average. I was just another wasted couple of minutes of your life.
The MAN stands up shirtless and stands near the window frame as he did at the very beginning and picks up the spoon in the cereal, he looks forwards blankly and brings the spoon to his mouth.
Can I ask you a question?
I need a simple answer.
I was… procrastinating.
Blackout.
