As an amateur actor, I don't hold much sway with this business of method acting and living your character. I don't believe for five minutes Anthony Hopkins actually killed someone and ate their liver, mainly because to my understanding Sir Anthony is vegetarian. So I'm not going to set up a clandestine laboratory in my husband's shed and cook up amphetamines as I prepare for this fancy dress party tonight. Even if I did want to do that, there's so much crap in my husband's shed I would be unable to do my cook. So what I've done is cut out some brown cardboard, googled some skull-and-crossbones images, and sketched them onto the cardboard. I am pretty handy with a sketchpad and pencil, so this is of an advantage. Just got to colour them in. Or colour the eye sockets, anyway. And then, above this ghoulish image, I'm going to have in psychadelic lettering the word 'acid'. This is to be my representation of the infamous Brown Acid from the Woodstock festival, as is the theme for the table with which I have been placed. Clever, hey? Well, I think so.
So, I'd best get colouring. Tomorrow, I have to write a piece themed 'tomorrow', and start sorting out the entries for the creative writing division in the local esteiddfod. And I simply must get my radio interview posted online. I am not liking that paragraph I've just typed; it sounds like one of those OMG Humblebrag status updates on Facebook. If you, reader, have interpreted it thus, then I apologise. Just me whingeing about life being a bit hectic at the mo. Still, I'd rather have a hectic life than none at all, so excuse me while I go about colouring my acid.
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