Something in Store

I'm not a superstitious person. At least, that is, I don't think of myself as one. Never throw salt over my shoulder, no problem stepping on cracks, will open a hundred umbrellas indoors and a black cat crosses my path several times a day (thank you Pete).

Although, now that I think of it, I do have certain superstitions I adhere to, but they're ones I've either made up myself or adapted from existing beliefs. For instance, if I spot a five-cent coin I have to pick it up; if I drop one I have to let it lie. Other denominations aren't affected.

Also, I've long feared saying "good luck" to someone. This might have started with the whole don't-say-good-luck-to-an-actor thing, but has since been expanded to incorporate everyone. At the same time, I do find myself saying it but always feel a little bad when I do. If whatever endeavour I'm wishing them luck in goes awry, I'll probably blame myself. But what's the alternative? "Bon chance"? "I wish you well"? "Knock 'em dead"?
All of which is in no way a relevant preamble to the fact that I went to see this guy last night:

Young Angus Cerini's This Thousand Years I Shall Not Weep finished up last night at The Store Room and, well, it was quite the corker. I hadn't seen Angus perform for a few years (probably not since Uni, even) so I was looking forward to catching it. Solo show devised in collaboration with Kelly Ryall on sound, it was a barrage of sucker punches that didn't necessarily make sense but kept you intrigued the whole time. It told a few intercut stories, one of a "peacekeeper" in Iraq who commits an atrocity, another of an anaemic kid who is given a disease during a routine blood transfusion, and a framing device wherein a politician makes some broad claims which set the rest of the show in contrast.

It's a hard show to follow - the various threads don't add up to an overall picture, and the physical intensity of the thing makes Cerini look like a balled fist undergoing electro-shock treatment. But you can't deny the power of it, or the seriousness motivating what you see. Anyway, it's over now, so you don't get to see it at all I suppose.

After the show it was a bit of a 2005 break-up party for The Store Room over at the Pinnacle, where (as usual) the spread was outstanding. If you ever get the chance to go to a function or something there, step over your own grandmother to get to it.

What a dry post. I'm tired.