Yesterday  I had one of those rare moments when something you’re working on suddenly falls into place,  the many disparate elements of thought and experience slotting together to create the whole piece in a single bright flash. It happened with regards to the one-man play I’ve just started working on, but have been thinking about and living with for some time.

Preceding that were one or two co-incidental occurrences that are often the harbingers of such moments. For example, I was re-working the Tat Man’s birth-story, and finding that he wanted to say more about his mother’s people, those “travelling folk”. I was writing that in the pub room in Malvern. The next day on our way back we encountered those very people – coming round a large roundabout outside Worcester, the traffic held up and jammed by an entire company of such travelling folk, progressing at their own slow pace…