Pastures new: Farewell from MBD's Project Facilitator

Way back in September 2009, I had packed up my life in Manchester and arrived in Leicester; bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to embark on the next stage of my glittering career in theatre. I'd harangued the MBD team for several weeks already, via email and over the phone, determined that they should give me a job (if not a restraining order).

Fast-forward a couple of weeks and I was in the office, learning all about the pyro-spectacular that Watch This Space were delivering for Bonfire Night at Lyveden New Bield, and trying to find a security company that could look after all our gunpowder. (I think Esther and Paul had taken pity on me and cancelled the restraining order.)

For the first 15 months with MBD, I worked only a few hours a week. It was unpaid, but gave me a taste of life with an independent and properly co-operative arts company for the first time. I'd come from three years administrating at a commercial theatre, separated from the creative process and rarely dealing with anything more innovative than Starlight Express. The team at MBD were doing all sorts of crazy-exciting stuff; collaborating with a traditional Chinese musician for a street arts rickshaw, building a maze full of TV screens, and working on music to soundtrack an audio tour of a battlefield. AN ACTUAL BATTLEFIELD. I'd basically found myself the coolest place to work EVER.

Since then…

They've given me a proper paid job.
I've worked on (I think) nineteen different projects, which have been staged everywhere from Stockton to Singapore.
We've reached somewhere in the region of 30,000 audience members, with thousands more participating in workshops and outreach programmes.
Two babies have been born (and our old Project Co-ordinator, Sally, will be adding another to the MBD Juniors line-up very soon).
Upwards of 20 tonnes of brie has been eaten during 'commie lunch'.

And I'm pretty sure that at least 10 tonnes of that was me. Quite an achievement.

The time has come, however, for me to tie up my knapsack once again and seek streets paved with G4A grants. Fare thee well, best of luck, and don't forget to tweet.

Meg. xxx.