I have always found it interesting the various metaphors people use for the struggles within theatre. I hope you don’t mind me sharing how I’ve always seen it -its a bit long and wanky.
Working in the theatre industry is like finding yourself in the middle of a stormy sea. The pieces of your education, background, and identity form the driftwood that you clobber together to make a raft. Some people you notice, have found themselves on a readymade boat. For the elite lucky few its not just a boat, but an enormous yacht, slicing through the crashing waves, easily carrying them over the horizon.
You take your raft and you sail it, without a compass, as best you can to a nearby fringe island that graciously lets you land. This tiny island has just the one palm tree as its only resource. Still, you sit on it a while to rest, before its time to set off once more into the thrashing sea. Some islands are bigger, they have more resources, trees, and even maybe some residents to help you. From these islands you find there's not just materials to sustain you, but also you can improve your raft, slowly turning it into a worthy vessel if you do the labour yourself over several years. Looking through a telescope you can see the largest islands have large populations, their resources plentiful, whole forests seem to sprawl across them. Yet these islands are impenetrable, always in the distance, seeming to invite only those from the yachts you see sailing past to dock.
I have always found it interesting the various metaphors people use for the struggles within theatre. I hope you don’t mind me sharing how I’ve always seen it - its a bit wanky.
Working in the theatre industry is like finding yourself in the middle of a stormy sea. The pieces of your education, background, and identity form the driftwood that you clobber together to make a raft. Some people you notice, have found themselves on a readymade boat. For the elite lucky few its not just a boat, but an enormous yacht, slicing through the crashing waves, easily carrying them over the horizon.
You take your raft and you sail it, without a compass, as best you can to a nearby fringe island that graciously lets you land. This tiny island has just the one palm tree as its only resource. Still, you sit on it a while to rest, before its time to set off once more into the thrashing sea. Some islands are bigger, they have more resources, trees, and even maybe some residents to help you. From these islands you find there's not just materials to sustain you, but also you can improve your raft, slowly turning it into a worthy vessel if you do the labour yourself over several years. Looking through a telescope you can see the largest islands have large populations, their resources plentiful, whole forests seem to sprawl across them. Yet these islands are impenetrable, always in the distance, seeming to invite only those from the yachts you see sailing past to dock.
I have always found it interesting the various metaphors people use for the struggles within theatre. I hope you don’t mind me sharing how I’ve always seen it -its a bit long and wanky.
Working in the theatre industry is like finding yourself in the middle of a stormy sea. The pieces of your education, background, and identity form the driftwood that you clobber together to make a raft. Some people you notice, have found themselves on a readymade boat. For the elite lucky few its not just a boat, but an enormous yacht, slicing through the crashing waves, easily carrying them over the horizon.
You take your raft and you sail it, without a compass, as best you can to a nearby fringe island that graciously lets you land. This tiny island has just the one palm tree as its only resource. Still, you sit on it a while to rest, before its time to set off once more into the thrashing sea. Some islands are bigger, they have more resources, trees, and even maybe some residents to help you. From these islands you find there's not just materials to sustain you, but also you can improve your raft, slowly turning it into a worthy vessel if you do the labour yourself over several years. Looking through a telescope you can see the largest islands have large populations, their resources plentiful, whole forests seem to sprawl across them. Yet these islands are impenetrable, always in the distance, seeming to invite only those from the yachts you see sailing past to dock.
I have always found it interesting the various metaphors people use for the struggles within theatre. I hope you don’t mind me sharing how I’ve always seen it - its a bit wanky.
Working in the theatre industry is like finding yourself in the middle of a stormy sea. The pieces of your education, background, and identity form the driftwood that you clobber together to make a raft. Some people you notice, have found themselves on a readymade boat. For the elite lucky few its not just a boat, but an enormous yacht, slicing through the crashing waves, easily carrying them over the horizon.
You take your raft and you sail it, without a compass, as best you can to a nearby fringe island that graciously lets you land. This tiny island has just the one palm tree as its only resource. Still, you sit on it a while to rest, before its time to set off once more into the thrashing sea. Some islands are bigger, they have more resources, trees, and even maybe some residents to help you. From these islands you find there's not just materials to sustain you, but also you can improve your raft, slowly turning it into a worthy vessel if you do the labour yourself over several years. Looking through a telescope you can see the largest islands have large populations, their resources plentiful, whole forests seem to sprawl across them. Yet these islands are impenetrable, always in the distance, seeming to invite only those from the yachts you see sailing past to dock.