Just come in from a beautiful workshop with Miranda Tufnell, Alexander teacher, dancer and author of The Widening Field. It was a STAT organised seminar for professional development. Of the twelve of us there only three I had not met before, so a joy to meet with some old friends and put faces to names I had connected with only by email before now.

At the beginning...well it started late because the Holland Park tube was closed due to all the maintenance work going on in the London Underground this weekend and most of us had to catch a bus down from Marble Arch and it was terribly wet and windy and I had been appointed tea lady for the day so was trying to get there early and only succeeded to get there in time, and I saw someone get off the bus and thought ‘o she looks like an Alexander teacher’ as we smiled at each other from under our umbrellas, and then I shot across the road dashing through the traffic and then thought to wait for her in case it was someone from the workshop and it was rather rude of me to charge off, but I was so cold and dying for a pee, and then she didn’t appear from round the corner so I dashed off again, wheeling my little bag behind me with the biscuits and tea and coffee, and then by the time I got there and someone had let me in and said hello to Miranda, well then of course Michelle just floated up a moment behind me so cool and I thought, there you go again girl all that rushing for no reason...........sigh.

Anyway, as I was saying, at the beginning Miranda laid out different bones or collection of bones on the floor and we had to choose one to look at with a partner and find the movement in it. Ilan had chosen half a pelvis, which of course looks like Henry Moore with exquisite form and shape, but I saw this funny piece of skull that I decided was probably the sphenoid bone, a bone I didn’t really know at all or have hardly ever looked at properly. I was gagging for something new and there it was this funny little butterfly bone with insect legs that made me laugh. We had to place it somewhere appropriate in the room. Ilan placed his pelvis on a stool – like a sculpture, and my butterfly flew over to a potted plant and hid amongst the leaves- just as it hides in the centre of our skull behind the eyes and above the larynx.

We changed partners and explored the movement in our partner – rather like I use ‘sticky hands’ exercise at college for my theatre students, only this was not necessarily hand-based and finding support and resistance with each other. One had the eyes closed, the other was there to support the exploration of movement in the other....Another time we leant into each other 50-50 resistance and support, needing each other, and moving against each other . Later in the afternoon we lay in prone and listened with our hands to another’s breathing pattern and encouraged movement to start from the breath itself......Ilan said it was as though the hands were like boats moving on the waves of the ocean...

And at the end we picked up our piece of bone from the morning and asked what gift it had given us, something new it had found for us in the workshop...I giggled suddenly as I found the anchor points for the larynx, if you turn it upside down look like two hands with two fingers sticking up as though to say ‘fuck off!’, and so I had to share that, and didn’t know what sort of gift that was – except perhaps the quirky sense of humour that says not to take life so seriously. Everyone had a good laugh, before they gave poetic sensible answers for the messages from their bones.

I am wondering if the sphenoid may be related to my eye strain and migraines that I have been experiencing now and then this winter.

Last weekend i saw the 3rd years strut their stuff in Colour of Justice, the play based on the transcripts from the Stephen Lawrence enquiry showing the inherent racism within the police force in 1990’s, when he was left to bleed to death on the pavement after a racist attack by a gang of white youths who were never charged with his murder. It was a very moving piece and the students were very authentic, although some having to play several parts. I was very proud of them from both acting and Alexander point of view. And for the college to have put on such an understated powerful play.

I came across Stephen Lawrence again in a huge picture by Iffizi at Tate Britain, a large beautifully poised head, with tears streaming down, inspired by Stephen’s mother. I remember it. I loved the hugeness of the paintings and the colour - but not sure I would want to live with them. Perhaps two of the small watercolours. I went with two friends – one a colleague who has been on my summer workshops in Alonnisos, the other a painter, also someone I met in Alonnisos. Isn’t life gorgeous the way it brings in connections? Like knowing most of the participants in the workshop. Life is a connected place , or my brain seeks to make these connections, and find the mutual support.

I did a very good class for the 1st years this week. We were marking the quiz on body mapping ( the mini easter eggs were a welcome prize for s/he who gave the best definition of the Technique) and revising monkey, attaching it to the act of cleaning the teeth. We first worked in a large group, then divided into 3 groups, so 5 could have hands on with monkey, 5 lie down and 4 take the DVD camera next door and film themselves doing monkey...It was just kind of neat.

Here's me working with 2nd years - they are all learning lines for their Shakespeare project.

MA’s are cracking on apace, and there were some very profound discoveries for some on Friday when I did the Higher Creative Self Exercise. It is a bridge for the actors to find the psycho-physical aspect of the work and how it can transform them from habitual self through to neutral self, to the character. I gave a workshop on this at the Lugano Congress 2008 for AT teachers. And have published a paper on this .....watch out for it on my website soon.

On Tuesday I tried to get to my Chi Kung class and failed miserably as the Northern Line was crawling along because of signal failure. I got off at Bank and decided to walk up to the Barbican to see if there was a film I wanted to watch instead. I saw Peter Brook’s piece 11-12 was on and in the queue for a ticket, found someone willing to give me a very good seat for a very cheap price. Destined I thought. And sure enough, I met an ex-student from ArtsEd and reconnected. The play itself was not exciting for me. I get irritated when an ensemble piece has no women it. And I began to nod off. I always sleep so well in theatre these days....Give me the rawness of student productions, full of potential, not rather tired accomplishment.