ONE WALL LEFT Milton, the original 'Life Logger'

Milton had lived his life a safe distance from History.

He’d never been to war, never been in an attack, never been in an invasion never gone to sea and never held a frontier. He’d avoided the army, the scouts and the cub scouts, his name had never appeared on a roll call.

He’d never been struck by lightening, been in a storm at sea, a hurricane, a famine or a flood. He had never been on the news, the local news or in the school newsletter.

He’d only watched sports finals and charity concerts and New Years Eve celebrations and demonstrations and riots from the comfort of his own home.

Milton had lived his life a safe distance from History. History had not acknowledged him, and Milton had never seen fit to make his presence felt.

However, at the age of twenty-six, Milton began worry that his life was unremarkable. Not because he wanted to make his mark, but because even he could barely remember the details. So, in order to aid his embarrassing short term memory loss, Milton started taking tiny photographs of his life four or five times an hour, every hour, and putting them up on his wall.

He did this for thirty-five years. He photographed his breakfast, his clothes for the day, his journey to work, his workspace, his morning coffee, his meetings, his lunch break, his meetings, his workspace, his journey home, his evenings in, his evenings out and his sleeping place. For thirty-five years. The house was covered in photographs.

If you asked Milton what he was doing in June fifteen years ago he would know – he would know that June fifteen years ago was a third of the way down the stairs just beneath the landing window ledge – and he would go there and tell you exactly what he was doing, what he was wearing and who he was with.

During all of this time he got married (To Marjory, April 23^rd twenty eight years ago, just to the left of the bathroom light switch) raised a family, (Tom, spare room right of the plug and Emily, Spare room centre above curtain rail), then saw them leave home and make their own lives. (One either side of the front door. Suitably enough.) They preferred plain walls.

Five photos times twelve hours times seven days times fifty two weeks times thirty five years, over seven hundred and sixty four thousand tiny pictures all over the walls of Milton’s house.

He had started in his bedroom, tight up against the door, and gone round in a clockwise direction. It had taken him nearly three and a half years to get out onto the landing, around the narrow strip before the back bedroom, which again took nearly three and a half years to get round. Six years in he met Marjory and a year later they got married (he was in the bathroom by then  - and he had to laminate the photos in strips because of the water). Not long into the spare bedroom and Tom was born, Emily eighteen months later and so it went on.

The day he reached the fruit bowl in the front room, the best room, Marjory died.

Her last picture nestled behind the clear crystal. It was the way she would have wanted it. She always liked fruit. Marjory had loved Milton, and had always accepted his little hobby, but maintained that the front room, the best room, should be the last room to succumb.

After the cremation Milton came home and added the funeral photos to the collection. From a step or two back they looked like a semi colon.

At times like this we reflect, and Milton’s eyes wandered from the pale face of Marjory to the life preceding. But his life had gone. Despite all his meticulous efforts over the years to preserve his every move his existence was nowhere to be seen. He ran to the front room first, then into the back room, the hallway and kitchen, and then he rushed up the stairs but there didn’t seem to be any sign of his life at all, just a monotonous, regular, unchanging pattern. A cheap wallpaper like that which you could by at any basement DIY store.

When he pressed his face against the walls the detail became clear – a shot of an evening here, a meal there, but standing back all he could see was the same repeating pattern over and over and over again. His life. A continual reminder of the utterly forgettable.

His first thought was to try and jazz it all up a bit – add a little glamour. He gathered together a collection of old magazines featuring the rich and beautiful enjoying exotic holidays and whirlwind affairs. With a pot of glue and a pair of scissors Milton began to change his history. Marjory was replaced by a series of very sensual ladies, pouting, laughing and clinging onto Milton’s arm in all those places they had been to together. Except they’d never been there together, lots of more famous and glamorous people had been there with other more glamorous and famous people. Together. Tom and Emily no longer played with home made toys sat in the back room, but rather sat by their own pool, with a nanny and a circle of adoring friends.

Milton changed the detail of his life to one of a man not just touching history, but creating it.

He worked in a complete frenzy for seven straight days and nights, cutting, pasting , re-colouring and re-working each day and every detail of his life until it was something other, something else, something desirable.

Then he stepped back.

He didn’t like it. Despite the glitz and the effervescence you only had to go back a short distance and it was exactly the same. A pattern.

So he tried again – this time he used a few historical almanacs and philosophy periodicals. His boozy nights became debates, his holidays became retreats, and his floosies became his intellectual equals with whom he shared an ideological and physical parity. The children were prodigies, his office a foundation, his workspace his mind.

Then he stepped back.

He still didn’t like it.

Despite the intellect and the respect and the volumes and the lectures when you stood a step or two away there was still a pattern, repetitive and ultimately dull.

Over the next couple of years he tried many different lives. Film star, sports hero, explorer, banker, artist, bull fighter, on and on and on. No matter how many times he tried to change the past it didn’t make the present feel any better. He worked faster and longer, later and more quickly desperately searching for something that might resemble the life everybody else seemed to have lived. Something memorable. The stress brought on a heart attack of massive proportions.

After six months of rest and recuperation they wheeled him back into his home, through the hallway, past the fruit bowl in the living room and left him with his back to the fireplace. And that’s when he realised.

He started taking the photos again. He didn’t change anything else.

He still had one wall left.

IMAGINE

I can’t use the word imagine these days without getting a mental image of John and Yoko in their big white bed with Alan Yentob squirming up between them like some annoying Spitting Image puppet. Maybe one day he’ll get his true wish and be invited onto ‘I’m a Celebrity’… but I digress…

The word ‘Imagine’ has those associations for my generation – but quite different ones for current and future generations. So I’d like to do a little imagining here.

Imagine a National Centre of Theatre, Books, Film and the Arts aimed specifically at Children – a South Bank for the under 12s.

Imagine a centre where the walls are made of light or images, that a simple touch can transform a room from a moving rainforest into the depths of the sea.

Imagine a performance area that is as alive as the actors. (no cheap jokes here about Hollyoaks – Ed)

Imagine a gallery where you can manipulate the art, sweep away each stage of the process by which it was painted, sculpted, built, and watch it re-assemble, change the materials and observe the consequences.

Imagine walls where you can digitally paint with your hands, import and manipulate photos, videos, and music to create your very own room sized work of art -  and then take it home in your pocket.

Imagine a performance in front of a live audience simultaneously sent to physical spaces all over the country. Not TV, but three dimensional spaces.

Imagine a performance happening in five cities at once, with a cast of five... one live actor in each venue, the others digitally projected, yet performing live.

Imagine going into the same room one day to find a single writer reading, and the next to find the assembled choirs of five continents.

Imagine a place where your opinion is sought out, valued, acted upon.

Imagine a place that challenges you, stretches you, but also allows you to laugh at fart jokes.

Imagine a network of venues that allow ballet classes in London to be actively  engaged with in Liverpool, Rock workshops in Manchester to be played along with in Exteter.

Imagine top industry practitioners being proud and flattered to be asked to take part.

Imagine watching a film your kids made just before a film Pixar made.

Imagine a place that doesn’t tell you what art is but asks you.

Imagine a place where you can see the actors putting their make up on for the show you’re about to see, and the artists carving the sculptures or editing the films or illustrating the books you’re about to enjoy.

It’s not a theatre  - a dark space, it’s not an art gallery – a light space, it’s not a reading room – an intimate space, or a library – a quiet space, or even a rock gig – a loud and joyous space…

It’s all of those things, whichever whenever it needs to be.

Is this all whimsy?

I’d like to imagine a New National Centre of the Arts for Children, that celebrates theatre, art, film making, music, carnivals, digital art and dance which has satellite venues all over the country, hell why not the world, sharing performances, exhibition’s, workshops, feedback and participation. I’d like to imagine this becoming a reality, properly realised, properly respected and funded by a fair and proportionate share of the arts funding in line with the percentage of the population we serve. I’d like to imagine it working in collaboration with all the UK’s key arts institutions.

Seem inconceivable? Too much to imagine? If we were going to create a national Institution for children there is no point simply rebuilding the infrastructures we have had in the past – we have to engineer something that tries to embrace the future. That means a new physical type of building, with totally new capabilities, new relatonships with the arts institutions in the UK and fundamentally a new understanding of how important children are in the current times and future of this country. Economically, Culturally and Spiritually.

There isn’t anything I have imagined above that isn’t technically possible NOW. In the digital age we can paper rooms with touch sensitive LED wallpaper that can show video, manipulate images, transform environments. We can replicate those images in similar rooms anywhere in the world, instantaneously. There just isn’t anyone thinking along these lines at present.

We haven’t even begun to imagine what the writers, artists and performers of the future could do with such spaces, but one thing is certain. Those future artists are children now, and we have to inspire and enable them.

As you were…….

ACA: THREE THINGS THAT WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE 

THING THREE. CHILDREN AS INNOVATORS. 

 I’ll keep this quick. Not quite tweet quick but quick. 

People say we are living in times that are changing more than ever before in our history – I’m not convinced that is true – I suspect human history remains as turbulent as it has ever been, and as it will continue to be. What is undoubtedly changing, and changing fast, is our access to and use of information. We all know why, ‘tinterweb, tablets, mobiles etc. We’re all digital immigrants and the ‘youth’ are digital natives, blah blah blah....

 This gets said so often it has become inaudible. And that’s the problem – it has become inaudible. It has become something we are happy to ignore other than on the more gimmicky fringes of our industry. Those of us who have already become set in our ways struggle valiantly with the digital revolution and either get hyper excited about apps and e-books (Like Tom Cruise laughing too hard at a cool comedian’s jokes) or we dig our heels in, deny e-books and apps will ever amount to anything and go back to trying to stop the tide coming in. 

Our approach to the new technologies is worth comparing to the early days of TV and film. Before then our only reference point was theatre, the prosc arch, the big wide vista. When TV and film came out although we knew what the technology could do, we had no idea what we could do with it. 

Essentially, in the early days of TV, people mounted a theatrical production and pointed the camera straight at it, as of they were sat in the stalls. They even used curtains. The shot would fade up on a pair of curtains, they would open, a lady wearing an evening gown and pearls would sing and the curtains would close. It was a style of performance the audiences of the day recognised, but it is a world away from what we do today. Cut aways, close ups, special effects and developing visual narratives remained the in the future and the mind of George Meliers. 

 I think we are in the equivalent position with digital media. We know what it can do - but we haven't even begun to work out what we can do with it. By not allocating proper funding to children’s content, by not properly challenging ourselves on a full scale to engage, immerse, enchant and surprise the audience who will be dictating how this technology evolves, we are letting ourselves creatively get left behind. Children expect a lot, a lot more than most of our best practitioners are prepared to even try and deliver (perhaps because they are worried they can’t?) 

 In an immediate context we need to take this audience on because they themselves are innovating the way we access our information, music, performance and other arts. We need to place ourselves squarely in the firing line and learn everything we can so we can continue to do everything the arts does best – but to do so we need to invite children in, let them be the innovators, while we provide context, experience and guidance.

 If we don’t we are potentially priming the detonator of a time bomb. If we don’t entertain and interest this audience they will grow up without us. When they become the decision makers allocating money to the arts they may struggle to see the point of institutions that have never engaged with them or shown any commitment to them – and that funding may fianlly disappear all together. 

 So. The third thing that I believe would make a difference is CHILDREN AS INNOVATORS, and inviting them in to the mainstream programming of our national and local institutions.

3 THINGS THAT WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE: THING 2 THE BBC PROPERLY FUNDING CHILDRENS CONTENT

ACA THREE THINGS THAT WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE

THING TWO: THE BBC NEED TO STEP UP AND STAND BY THE CHILDREN OF THIS COUNTRY BY SIMPLY PAYING FOR THE PROGRAMMES THEY COMMISSION. 

Actually my second point about what would make a difference to Children’s Arts is not about more money – it's about the allocation of money. At an ACA round table last year an idea emerged that it might help focus all the multiple causes for children’s arts by establishing a simple universal principal – that being ‘Children are Important’. Seems obvious doesn’t it. But the work the ACA then did in discovering the % arts funded bodies spend on children as an audience really demonstrates just how important they all think children are… and what a shock. 

For those who didn’t see the figures in the report it shows that 17 of our national, publically funded institutions admitted (via FOI requests) to only spending about 1% of their total budgets on children. For some it was marginally higher – and for all, to be fair, it has increased in the last few years (by less than 1% in most cases). 

1% spend  for 15% of the population. 

Shamefully the BBC’s spend on children is declining, and the Arts Council had no idea how much of the money they allocate gets spent on children’s projects. Check that. No idea. That’s how important children are in the mix. Have you seen the forms you have to fill in for Art Council funding? About who the projects are aimed at and how they will benefit… do the Arts council even look at these forms? Anyway I digress…. It is plain looking around how little consideration these bodies give to children other than their obligations to an educational programme – but they do not see children as part of their core audience, and they would seem to have no interest in building an audience from children. (Is this because of what I referred to in my blog yesterday that these artistic directors see work for children as second rate – not good on their CV…?) 

But here I am going to point my finger squarely at the BBC because this discussion is about what would make a difference. Well. Properly funding your children’s television programmes would make a huge difference and here’s why. 

Firstly my disclaimer and ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card. The folk who run the children’s channels would LOVE to fully fund the shows they want – but they can’t because the BBC Management at the very top don’t believe that children’s programming is deserving of fully funding… for context to do so would require allocating about another 1% of their overall budget – bringing their total spend on kids (15% of the population) to approx. 4%... 

Did you know that the BBC only put in up to 25% of the budget of pre-school TV shows made outside of the BBC? Perhaps up to 75% of those made internally. This is how the usual boilerplate model for financing a pre-school children’s TV show breaks down, in terms of what % of the production budget is paid and by who: 

15-25% Broadcaster 

20- 30% Pre- sales to other countries 

30-40%  Tax credits in other countries 

20-35%  Advance against Licensing and Merchandising 

The upshot of this is that the majority interest in the show is from companies who business model is predicated on making money from the sale of toys/merchandising and other licensed goods. Which means that without the certainty of a strong toy line after the programme is released they will not invest in the show. Don’t get me wrong – in the commercial world it is fine to do this – it is the commercial world. The channels have correctly realised their programmes have a healthy licensing and Merchandising income stream and have used this potential as a way of driving down the price they pay for programmes (not uncommon for them not to pay at all!) It is their business model and they are entirely free to pursue it.

But the British Public Service Broadcaster has quite cynically exploited this trend and used it as a way of making less BBC money go further – to only pay 25% of the production budget. To require producers to gap finance in the same way – putting the same pressures on the content of those shows. To be clear – this means that the majority of shows on the BBC will not get made if there is no intention to release a line of toys. It also often means the editorial needs to be shared with other countries as often it is a co-production that helps gap finance these shows (often with government money) meaning the content needs to be adjusted for a more universal audience. It also means that the Channel controllers actually don’t get the final say about what shows they get… the heads of the distributors do. 

 Lets play. I shall exaggerate for effect… but only a little… 

Imagine ‘War Horse’ being produced with the same considerations. The National Theatre say they would like to do it – it’s an important, exciting and emotional work - but they can only afford to pay 25% toward the cost. That’s OK, because if all of the costumes, the script, the puppets and the music is created in Canada and imported back with a Canadian character or two squeezed into the plot in they will add in another 35%. (It’ll still work if the Horse joins the Canadian Cavalry for a bit won’t it?) And this is all OK because BIG THEATRE Distribution comes in and says they will finance the rest… if… the National agree to a few adjustments. For instance the horses. These dark wood puppets are a bit serious… could they be softer, more cuddly, with bigger eyes and a smile? And can we work in a vehicle or two – they always sell well – something with eyes that might speak? And can we also make sure we can make a further 104 new stories to support the product at retail… oh… and how about if we lose the ‘War’ bit…. Is that OK?

 Like I say, I exaggerate… but only a little. (And by the way - the Canadians are not the baddies here - it is just a normal request in a co-production) Rest assured these conversations have taken place behind the scenes of nearly every new pre-school children’s programme you see. The BBC might claim they are protecting children as an audience as part of their brave new world – but until they properly fund their programming they are not only forcing them to be consumers – but there is a form of blackmail going on. 

Unless children buy the product based on these shows and deliver a profit to the distributor the figures for future shows will stop adding up and the business model fails. If the model fails the programmes will stop being made. It really is that simple. 

Then there is the impact on the creative industry of the UK. We still have world respected creators of programming – but we are unable on the whole to make this programming in the UK. Meaning we are cutting off our creative industry at the knees. Without the BBC properly funding the programming they show so many times they are not only betraying our children, but they are killing off a huge sector of the creative industry costing jobs for our young graduates and money directly from our internal ecomony.

THREE THINGS THAT WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE FOR CHILDREN'S ARTS

ACTION FOR CHILDREN’S ARTS CONFERENCE 19TH MAY 2012 @ UNICORN THEATRE

THING ONE: GREAT WORK FOR CHILDREN IS JUST GREAT WORK

At the recent ACA conference we were all confronted with the fact that the majority of publically funded bodies in this country spend only around 1% of their budgets on content aimed at children up to the age of twelve. For context children up to twelve make up 15% of the country’s population. Most companies have spent slightly more since 2004, but the BBC is the only publically funded body who’s allocation of funds to children is actually declining. 

We were asked to suggest three things that might make a difference to this situation, and, as the day itself was a bit of a rush, I thought I’d lay out my three points a little more clearly via this blog. One point a day… 

To explain my first ‘thing’ I’d like to start with a short anecdote (well I do work in showbiz)... 

A couple of years ago I was invited to a well known actors 50th birthday party, and found myself amongst the great and the good of English theatre and film, in fact it was impossible to reach out for an asparagus tip without brushing against an OBE or a BAFTA winner… (a normal run of the day event in the life of Will Brenton, naturally)

In the queue for the buffet, just beside the parmesan statue of Gielgud, I was standing next to a very well known film director (those of you there on the day will know who), we started the obligatory small talk and he asked what I did. When I told him I created and produced TV primarily for kids he looked at me with disbelief and said ‘Why?’ 

The more I thought about this afterwards the more I struggled to find anything right about that reaction. To give him the benefit of the doubt he may have meant ‘Why?’ in the way you might ask a specialist ‘Oh….why medieval wallpaper particularly…’ but in truth he meant ‘Why’ in the way you might ask ‘Why did you decide to join the Moonies?’ or… to put it plainly 

‘Why [on earth would anyone in their right mind want to do that?]’ 

The problem here is that his reaction was indicative of the prevailing wisdom across the board in all our industries, that being if you do work for children it is because you are not good enough to do work for ‘grown ups’. 

Cue the irony. 

So many of the works that we have taken to heart as human beings – that is as children and adults alike – were originally conceived and written for an audience of children. Peter Pan, The Snowman, War Horse, Wallace and Gromit, Winnie the Pooh, His Dark Materials, we all know how the list rolls on and on and on. These are all works that make such a strong connection, such a universal connection to something very human inside us all that they stay with us for life. The term ‘human’ is crucial here, because it includes old and young alike, something adult practitioners are NOT required to achieve. This deep connection is, perhaps, what our very honest young audience demand from us as the creators of work for them – and is tremendously difficult to do well. 

 And yet as an industry we prefer to believe work for children is second rate, practised by second rate people. As a nation we just don’t seem to be able to genuinely value pretty much anything about children and childhood – apart from their value as consumers (more of that in point two tomorrow). We are almost ashamed of them. Don’t forget we are the nation that required the publishers of ‘Harry Potter’ to release it with a ‘Adult Covers’ so that people could read it on the tube and not feel embarrassed, (as if they were reading a ‘Playboy’ tucked inside a ‘Metro…’) 

The repercussions of this attitude go deep. Our national institutions might produce work for children (usually ghetto-ised into their education departments), 'Adult' TV companies might produce some work for children because a flattered Childrens TV channel is excited to work with the ‘big guns’ - but they will rarely put their top talent onto it. In fact I know of one top TV company admitting to using their children’s shows to ‘train’ people. 

Career minded people writing and creating work in the adult world wouldn’t think of doing work for children because they would see it as a step down, a place with no respect, a signal that they are no longer as good as they were. This perception can only prevail in a country where children’s work is not respected. A common reaction to doing children shows is also to ‘age them up’ - to my mind simply a way of pretending you’re not actually doing a children’s show at all….

 Therefore, I am advocating that one of the things that will make a real difference is to value children and the work created for them alongside adults.

GREAT WORK FOR CHILDREN IS SIMPLY GREAT WORK 

 When we start to respect and admire great work for children as being on a par with all great work, then talented people will not shy away from doing it, funding bodies will see the value in allocating money to it, and perhaps our larger, publically funded institutions will see that only spending 1% of their public money on 15% of the population should not be a choice they are allowed to shy away from.

We Don't Want Story? Of course we do!!

http://www.nbcwashington.com/blogs/popcornbiz/Disney-Exec-Says-Theyand-You--Dont-Care-About-Story-127951908.html

We don’t care about story? … What?
We don’t care about story? … What??
We don’t care about story? … What???

Any way you interpret Disney Exec Andy Hendrickson’s assertion that they and we don’t care about story you can only be left rolling your eyes and tutting like an old English Teacher clutching ‘Pride and Prejudice’ faced with a detention class.

What am I telling you for? The fact you’re interested in this means you’re probably in the business of story-telling or film/TV making and this echoes what you’ve been thinking all along. You are the converted - we do care about story! We all know that story is the heart and soul of anything we do – along with Character. Without those key elements you end up with most of Tom Cruises career.

There is a huge assumption here – the idea that an audience doesn’t want something just because you’ve stopped supplying it. That’s getting away with it – it isn’t a fact in itself. How often do we see movies and think the trailer was better than the film itself? How often does your heart sink in a movie as you pass each sign post… here’s the action opening… here’s the first doorway of no return… here’s the second doorway into the third act…here’s the eleventh hour disaster… yawn yawn sigh sigh… that’s because there’s only a textbook formula.

Hendrickson talks about how Tim Burton’s ‘Alice’ had a poor story but the visuals brought people in in droves. True. But he doesn’t mention how people felt when they left. I am pretty convinced the majority of people left saying ‘It looked amazing but…’ His unspoken point is that getting people in, getting them to pay is what counts – they don’t pay on exit… What he’s missing is the we can see the formula at work, we can feel each beat of the plot, the problem is we don’t get much of an alternative.

We all pitch programmes and movies at a set of boxes that studios are waiting to tick. The boxes are the end result of their quest to quantify and control the magical elements of ‘Story’ and bottle it so they can reproduce it as often as they like. They need to reduce the variables. It’s an understandable attempt at protecting the huge investment film and TV needs these days – but it is a tactic that often ends up with unsatisfactory results – and worse than that – takes everybody’s eyes away from the truly inspiring and captivating stories that really would break through. The fact that we’ve come to tolerate this formulaic approach as the norm doesn’t mean we don’t crave more.

The industry in ‘How to write’ books, from McKee onwards, has resulted in a generation of execs who believe any successful movie can be formulaically created under laboratory conditions and then let loose. But that’s a little like cloning Eric Morecombe and expecting the clone to have the same comic timing, talent for ad-libbing and twinkle in the eye ….

And the model racks itself up – make more happen, blow more things up, raise the stakes – surely that MUST a good story make. Simply having two people stare at each other in an emotionally charged situation is way too scary. Too unpredictable. But I venture more people remember Hannibal Lecter staring at Claris than any of Mr Cruise’s Blast-Ups.

Yet everything has its place – and on many levels the formula works – it makes a film acceptable and gives the effects a solid base colour to shine against – that level of reliability is worth the compromise of quality. We as an audience accept it because we still go… so we can’t really complain.

But isn’t the net result of making things fit a formula best demonstrated by the transition of ‘The Killing’ to the US… it’s the same show… the shots, the music, the colour palette, it’s just lost something, a bit of it’s soul… a little of its magic. All the corners that have been knocked off, all the quirky characters who have been smoothed out and all the elements that didn’t ‘fit’ were exactly what made the original so compelling.

TWEET! - A Small Bird who wants to Be Heard...

When Little Tweep popped out of his egg the first thing he said was

‘TWEET!’

Which made his Mummy and Daddy smile proudly.

When Little Tweep met his brothers and sisters he said

'TWEET!

Which made them all give him a big squeezy hug. ‘What a lovely Tweet you have’ they said, and they carried on tweeting to each other all day long.

Life slipped by so quickly, and soon it was time to move to the Big Tree.

The Big Tree was full of Tweeps chattering away. Little Tweep flew straight into the middle of them all and said

'TWEET!

But nobody listened. ‘That’s odd!’ thought Little Tweep. ‘My Daddy likes my Tweet, My Mummy likes my tweet – and all my brothers and sisters like my tweet! But everyone here is too busy tweeting themselves!

Little Tweep wanted to Be Heard, so he took a deep breath in and.... he tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted!

It worked!… as long as Little Tweep never stopped some of the other tweeps heard him! It felt wonderful! At last he was a Little Bird who was actually Being Heard!

He tweeted as the sun rose through the misty morning, he tweeted as the sun shone bright and bold at noon… and he tweeted as the sun sleepily sank beneath the horizon and ushered in the Moon.

But it was exhausting! After a few days Little Tweep was terrifically tired!

‘Tweet!...Twee!...Twe!...Tw!...T….’ he wheezed. And when he finally stopped all together the strangest thing happened.

Everybody turned away.

Little Tweep didn’t like Not Being Heard, so he took a big deep breath in and… he tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted and tweeted again!

Again it worked! Again he was a little bird who was actually Being Heard!

Before long he was even more exhausted than before, and couldn’t even raise the tiniest ‘T!’…

When Little Tweep wasn't tweeting - everyone went away again!

He tried being funny… ‘Twit!’

He tried being clever… ‘Tweet=MC2!’

He tried being LOUD! TWEEEEET!

But every time he stopped it felt like he didn’t even exist….

It was strange being all alone.
In his own little tree.
In the total quiet.

Little Tweep gazed over at the other trees, trees full of tweeps tweeting to each other, day in day out. Big trees where thousands of Tweeps listened to one big tweeter, smaller trees where everyone tweeted together. After a while Little Tweep shuffled around on his branch and sadly flew away.

He flew through a field of flowers, getting giddy on their perfumes.

He flew to the top of a mountain and listened to the wind whispering stories.

He flew into a waterfall and let the cold water make his feathers feel fizzy.

He flew to the edge of the sea and listened to the music of the waves.

He flew across the moon and between the stars, until he was covered in twinkles.

Little Tweep realised he wanted to tell everybody about his adventures, so he turned around and flew back home – back to his tree – back to the clatter and clamour of the tweeps.

Little Tweep tweeted the tales of his travels to his Mummy, Daddy, sisters and brothers - and as he told them of the whispering winds and musical waves more and more tweeps began to listen too.

‘Little Tweep!’ cried his Mummy ‘You really do have the most beautiful tweet we have Ever Heard!’

Now Little Tweep loves tweeting his stories to all the other tweeps. But if feels he has said everything he has to say, if he stops tweeting and they all turn away, Little Tweep doesn't mind. He likes to fly away to where nobody tweets at all….


THE END....

..No... no shotgun.... ;-)