It is our first read-through of Mad Forest, or at least mine since I’d missed the first session (was away at the time).

Upon hearing the casting choices, I find it odd that I’ve been assigned what was one of the roles that more people had requested – odd in that I hadn’t requested it at all. Besides, it is a character I’d found rather flighty and self-absorbed when reading the play on my own previously, and one that I don’t particularly respect. Oh well. If anything, this will be an interesting journey.

The first act is being read through a tad disappointingly, I think. Rather blandly. Sure enough, directorial feedback reflects this sentiment. The second acts shifts up one gear, and I don’t realise we’re in third gear until the end of the act, and I’ve found myself leaning forward in my seat, even though my part in this act is close to nonexistent. The third act doesn’t up the gear – instead, the vehicle starts to drive on ice. Near the end, everyone is concentrating hard to avoid complete confusion and chaos.

At the end of the night, when I’m already in the quiet confines of home, it occurs to me that that read-through was more than the awkward fumblings of a first read. We had reflected the moods and shades of the play: almost bland tidiness, the gradual shaking of foundations, chaos.

In spite of knowing the immense character journey I am beginning to undertake, my worries of this first night are obsessions with:

Smoking. I will have to learn to smoke. I’d always turned my nose at smoking based on strong principle. This time, I will have to be a whore for the art.

The accent, the accent. The only reference I can think of is The Count from Sesame Street. “One! Wah hahaha! Two! Wah hahaha!”

Three months suddenly seems a very short time.