Walk a day in my shoes

Could you really? We all like to think we can empathize and sympathize with our fellow man (I do not do political correctness) but do we really even try past politeness sake? Are we sure we don’t gloss over and nod and apologise?
I have had a pretty shitty last year in particular. I say shitty as it hasn’t left me fighting for my life, I have not had to deal with the loss of a friend or relative (thank you god) I am still with a roof over my head. So am I about to commit a first world problems offence? Let’s see.
I like to think that I am pretty self aware. I feel like I have always tried to dredge up real empathy for those sharing something distressing or personal. But after the last few months of trials life has served me over the net, and my less and less ability to hit the solutions back, I have begun to re-think and reassess.
Have I glossed over and made someone else feel like their issue was just a irritation to my timetable?
I definitely feel like I have committed the offense of being An inconvenience on their walk from the station, forcing them to will their house was a different direction from the station to mine?
I was broken into several years back and it took me a good long while to get over it. Actually let’s go back even further, I was once taking a very lame typical tourist shot of the arc de ‘ triumph with my mum trying not to smile in front of it, when a blur of dirt and leather flew inches from my face swiping the shiny silver cyber shot from my fingers. My last years birthday present. To all those of the younger generation that is a camera. One separate from a phone. A stand alone camera.

I stupidly with one thought in my head started to chase the blur. My thought being that I had for once actually taken pictures at one of my ice skating shows and was not about to lose the images that I wouldn’t be able to get back. So I’m running through streets of Barcelona that I don’t know at all after this a-hole. Letting him weave me deeper into the alleyways of local neighbour hoods. People standing in doorsteps just watch as I yell asking them to “STOP HIM” or Please help me”. selfishly not even thinking about where my mother was or her fear for my saftey.

Thankful to my mothers encouragement of my ice skating and a ferocious Scottish woman called Margarita(my coach) I had fitness endurance and so managed to keep running till the morrocan tea leaf got exhausted. we ended up in an opening where building works had started but were now abandoned. I had got a hold of his jacket and asked him for my camera. I even tried to punch him. I may have given him a dead arm but he managed with his other arm to punch me. It made me flinch and let go of his jacket. I couldn’t see my camera and felt like it had all been pointless. Then suddenly my Mother appeared. She looked shaken but still she forcefully asked for the camera but the nasty piece instead picked up a brick and threw it at us just as 3 police officers came round the corner. Apparently whilst I was out jogging for 15mins with the sheisse a man had tried to assist my mum, he succeeded and managed to get police officers to boot! How they found me I don’t know, although I did realise we hadn’t actually traveled that far as on the run we past a fat man who just watched from his door way offering no assistance what so ever, not even a foot to trip up my running companion. I saw him 3 times, so really we were just doing circles.

Anyways, after the brick throw and the arrival of the police, my jogging partner tried to run off but this time his marathon was cut short. The police dragged him back to where we were less than 30 seconds later. All got sorted. Ive got kind of off track haven’t i?

So anyway, the Barcelona marathon incident meant I was a pain to go away with. Actually not just when away, I became very conscious of everyone around me. Suspicious of everyone around me. On the tube, in a sop, in a restaurant, I became so insistent on knowing and checking where mine and whoever I was with’s belongings were. My poor ex-boyfriend managed not to throttle me when I made him check certain items for like the 100th time. Then when the house got burgled I started hating leaving the house unattended.

Now that was over 8 years ago but it was only last year that I started to not worry about leaving the radio on, or lights in case we didn’t get back before it got dark. Stopped hiding my jewelry away and had it on my dresser. So of course, like a lesson, we got broken into again. This time it was even worse. We came home to someone locking the door from the inside. The cheeky ducker then went back upstairs and proceeded to steal several favored possessions. Thank god for my Marine, who free ran over the fence and broke into the house giving the little sheisse less time than he had wanted and he only cleared out our  bedroom.

Ive heard the Chinese say being stolen from is to save you from a worse fate. I used to cling onto that. Now I’m just scared, scarred and angry. I have tried to empathise with the image of the burglar. but the consistent sleepkess night I know have, still waking with every creak in the house. Lying there for an hr trying not to breath to make sure that creak wasn’t a nasty skanky tea leaf. Going to auditions looking like a bag of doodoo thanks to this banker which means I am not at my best to win the ever enduring competition of auditioning.

Does that mean I am not really that self aware or empathetic or did it just get all used up. I didn’t choose to take drugs, I didn’t choose to leave home. I may not have liked everything all of the time but I listened to my parents, I respected their words of advice and I am where I am. Just because you may not be where you want to be or are jealous of other people having more than you does not mean its ok to make it their problem. This year we have had our number plates stolen twice, a log placed by our back wheels with the aim of making us damage our wheels. People have been taking phone contracts and insurances out in my name(how kind of them).

I know these are superficial issues and I am incredibly grateful for our health. For my close family member to have fought cancer, for one of our friends to have survived losing three limbs and to have taken life by the horns and built his house and had 2 fathered two children. I guess its because of those serious issues that I am unable to empathise with the low life shits of this world.

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TOWIE cherry popped

I for the first time since the world was subjected to it 4 years ago, watched 5 mins of ‘The Only Way is Essex’.

It was painful! Now I sometimes like a bit of reality TV as for acting purposes it is brilliant to watch human behavior. When things aren’t completely scripted, catching little moments of true reaction is priceless.

TOWIE however is not! It was just painful. I feel like people who are so painfully aware of the camera are unable to ever fully let go, without it being for the cameras. I also feel so uncomfortable for the cast involved that I just felt so uneasy for the whole 5minutes that it was definitely not a relaxing experience. I don’t like being a bitch and being completely negative as that doesn’t help anyone.

<blockquote>Don’t open your mouth if you ain’t got nothin nice to say.<blockquote>

So where am I going with this? Who knows right now, my brain is like jelly. I guess my thoughts are, why is it so popular? Why do people watch it? and what is its purpose?

I have kept on the washing gloves and not felt forced to remove them to change my background noise whilst washing up with the likes of “Made in Chelsea” or even Big Brother. Although I say that and the last time I even mistakenly caught Big Brother Davina McCall was still presenting it so I shouldn’t really paint them with the same brush as it has since moved to Channel 5 and who really knows what goes on there. But my point being is that it didn’t bother me and make me so physically and mentally uncomfortable as “towie” did. Is it because I have more of a connection of people from Essex than those from Chelsea? Almost like ridiculous American soaps that Americans scorn at but we find cute? Is it that my grandma lives in Essex and I find it remotely offensive, or actually more like distressing that they have turned it fashionable to be Chavvy in the whole of Essex not just Brentwood? Who knows, I just know that I couldn’t even use it as an acting lesson. The accents are so exaggerated, I don’t even recognise it and I spent many a summer in Southend dipping in and out of the turd water down at the Sea Front with Traaayc, Weeyaes and Claiyah (tracy, wesley and Clare).

I think I’m still trying to work out why I disliked it so as normally any reference or link to  where either of my families are from gives me that warm fuzzy feeling. I love that geordie with his fabulous houses program, i used to be addicted to Biker Grove. But that may have been for another reason entirely. I blame that whole debacle on the warm fuzzy feeling the accent gave me, but lets leave that there.

Ok lost my train of thought! Again! Apologies! Again!

 

Anyways I guess what I’m saying is its not for me. And its not because of being a reality show. I’m not that pompous negative person.

Just the wingy moany questioning one.

 

The Good ole blonde days

I was wasting time whilst the wheel of death smacked me in the face and thought I would have a Google of a photographer friend of mine who moved back to Oz, Kris Growcott. We did a couple of amazing shoots together, embarrassingly I cant even remember which magazine this was for. My mother always said write it all down but did i listen? Of course not. So anyway, stumbled upon this and it made me smile!

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Hmmmm life

I don’t know how, but sometimes life does just take one big shift. Everything isn’t suddenly miraculously perfect but…something happens and suddenly the world is a much brighter place to love than yesterday. I am starting to come to the conclusion that making changes(and I’m not meaning crunchy instead of smooth PB) does increase the positive energy, the good luck, the…I don’t know…just good shiz to start flowing in your direction.I feel like it is the universe rewarding you for taking that step forward, for being brave to make a commitment, take on responsibility. That may sound childish and stupid but I have decided to no longer be afraid to take risks and not move forward. I am taking life by the…by something and riding it till the cows come home!buddydaywm

 

It’s either that or literally my dog is a good luck charm.

Back to School- my dirty little habit

5330594996_fd29f8efa6_zI seriously advise taking up a new skill. I have just been home teaching, self teaching, you tube learning whatever you want to call it, that. I have been doing that over the last few months. Editing programs have been my dirty little habit. It is so satisfying learning a new skill and now being able to do something you would have paid someone else to do. The self satisfaction of the long standing DIY.

Especially in a career like mine where, there can be times at which you have no validation or understanding if you are really progressing. Or feel completely, that your life is, at the mercy of higher powers, it is rare that you actually relish in that sense of accomplishment or feel like you have achieved something. I spent so long letting others have control of my career and options and you know what the only time I felt as if I was successful was when they offered me the bread crumb. I felt like a monkey at the bottom of the tree, looking up at assholes just waiting for scraps. Not averting my eyes incase I missed an opportunity. Every so often one of the cool kids monkeys would reach down to offer me a momentary seat on one of the upper branches, only to be pushed back off when another cool monkey came along.

No more. not only is doing it for yourself self satisfying, it is empowering to finally make your accomplishments and achievements your own, Really enabling one to know what you are congratulating yourself for. Whether its designing my new logo, making a watermark (if you look through my blog pics you will see mine taking its shape, not always great but has been fun to make) for my pictures, editing footage, or even learning to make an elastic band ball, learn something new! I promise it will give you a sense of achievement that I feel we tend to lose after school.

You may think its rubbish but it’s helped me.

Leave em alone!

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Hmmm synicism begins to enter before I’ve even started. Am I right?

Well if you have ever heard of The Actors Temple then I’m sure you will start to sneer. The Actors Temple is an actors training centre that teaches people to act using skills and exercises devised by an american teacher called Sanford Meisner. Sanford Meisner trained in his acting days with other well known american greats such as Lee strasberg, Stella Adler and Harold Clurman.

Now I feel that the actors temple has been given a rough deal. One cannot help the effect they may have on another and should not be put down just because the affected has had the best orgasm of ones life due to the work of the affectee.

Yes I used the word ORGASM to keep you with me. Ok so basically Sanford was really just a kick ass teacher. He not only saw through the bullshit of english drama schools, teaching everyone to use intonation to get the message across but he also had the skills to rework a lesson in any which way he could to ensure that each person in the class could get it. Now he was no martyr or saint, if you were shit and were never going to get it (or for meisner trained eyes-If you were not prepared to address what was there) and i mean really shit and not very self aware or prepared to see what you try to cover up then really acting, wasn’t for you. And he would ask you to leave. Some would say that was harsh, but after being in a few classes with some very self involved bankers, and i do not literally mean bankers i just don’t like swearing, who wasted my learning time as they were not prepared to fully go for it, I wish more teachers would do the same. Learning is not cheap.

So lets summarise as today I feel like nothing is linear or has a proper focus. I have managed to drift from working to three different clothes websites that are in america and incredibly expensive that i will never order from as currently I am saving for a house.

So =

The actors temple has a bad rap.

It has been labeled a cult (probably by some cnut)

Because most people that come out of it start spouting their enlightenment at everyone they meet.

Drama school peeps like to look down at all other forms of training (only my experience, so dont get all crazy rapper intonation angry at me, obviously many of you give the rest a bad name) and sneer at ‘the enlightened’ and meisner based enlightenment.

Other scared actors (non drama schoolites) too scared to go and be told they may be shit at a class sneer at the ‘enlightened’ as they are so incredibly jealous that not only did someone they compete for jobs with went and bettered their ‘craft’ (I do find that phrase so wanky, but is that my jealousy? that I see my skills only certified at hobby level and never to be good enough or worked enough to be called a Craft?) and to top all that off they were blessed with a friggin godly moment of enlightenment? #selfish

 

Lets move on…Ok, so really its just a really friggin good learning space with teachers that are unrelenting and who encourage you to be your best. They have, with the help and teachings of Ol’ Sanford, passed over to us by Tom Radcliffe student to Mr Mesiner.

Yes, I have been to The Temple.

I even did a two month course. Thats 8 weeks out of the 52. 40 days of my 2013. I loved it. Actually fiddle me. Wait that was to replace a naughty word but now that sounds even worse. I really am going to have to work on better swear swapsies. I had forgotten that I had also completed a weeks introduction before i was allowed to do full training. See they vet you before they accept you to the cult. 

I promise I wasn’t holding out on you I just forgot. Not because it wasn’t memorable as it clearly was enough for me to drop more money on the full training but i guess it wasn’t the life changing experience many will have had. The intro week is probably what causes such a stir in most. My intro was full of all sorts. People I mean. Doctors, builders, sales assistants and a few actors. It was exactly like every other acting class to start. Loud obnoxious cankers wanting to be heard. Selfish and desperate to prove how awesome they were. Fortunately that was when all changed and we were all reduced back to basics. We were not allowed to start acting. We had to stop being so arrogant and focused on ourselves and instead start noticing our partner. In doing so, and being honest while doing so, you have to say what you see. Alot of the time people don’t want you to see what is really going on with them. So, announcing what you see can often cause quite a stir. Especially if they arent willing to acknowledge that in the public domain. Where the enlightenment comes in, is when you are forced to accept what it is someone else sees. Doing so infront of others can be quite liberating and thus one feels a sense of relief and joy that they wish everyone could experience.

STOP making them feel bad about it! They were a closed off person who was broken a little and made to realise some shity about themselves that their so called friends were never brave enough to voice. If you are a friend of one of these people maybe you could do with some time at the temple and realise that maybe your not so self aware ducko!

I didn’t feel enlightened. I did learn a hell of a lot. I realised I have another level that I hadn’t been aware of within myself that I can now access for my acting. I got that from the brilliant teaching of Mark Wakeling and Tom Radcliffe at The Actors Temple.

Don’t judge it till you’ve tried it.

 

p.s-Yes I tried drama school, and no I didn’t like it. My voice didn’t quite fit in.

pps- It is not just for actors, anyone who wants to realise the bs barriers they put up which stop you reacting and noticing other human beings, it may be for you. You never know!

 

Looking over the arm rest

Ok so where is the line? I always thought it was half an arm rest width, but I guess with obesity increasing and butts invading the lower cavity of neighbouring seats are we starting to blur the line. I was sat on a Piccadilly line train minding my own beeswax trying to use the time productively on our latest script, a romcom if you were interested. Now am I the one being out of order by taking my personal work onto a public transportation system? I would have thought not, as surely everyone should be in their own ever increasing expensive 1ft x 1ft ( if your lucky) space to enjoy or dread their journey to wherever as they wish. I would like to be able to get on we my journey without the ever lurking eyes of Mr Black, a very tall lean Japanese man in skinny pleated trousers that still don’t even touch his legs, so he definitely doesn’t lift bro. Or at least does miss a heck of a lot of legs days.
Should I, instead of boiling internally and formulating all manner of one liners veering from aggressive to witty to down right rude, turn to him and ask his opinion? So far in similar occasions I have just allowed this Invision of privacy to let my creative train wait in the tunnel, possibly never to poke its head out the other end. I don’t know how many files have a paragraph or (cough) one line as their sorry little existence due to nosy neighbours, who selfishly didn’t bring an attention keeping device with them.

I am currently sat on a central line train. No arms rests whatsoever! Did the central line start this blurring of personal space? Whoever it was or whatever led to this, is there a way back? A route that takes us back to people respecting one another’s personal space? Or am I the one in the wrong taking my expectations of personal space out of my living quarters. I have been feeling guilty the last paragraph as sometimes I am that person woofing down a cold wrap or a protein bar, or slurping on my sickly sweet smelling protein shake. So is someone out there thinking that I am invading their personal senses space? Am I the arrogant prick who is selfishly making dieters hungry by eating in a public domain? Or am I still on the edge of a respectful person because it’s not offensive smells like fried chicken, cigarettes or mc Donald’s? Is my fastfood(can you even call mcdonalds that, last time I went I waited 15mins for mine to be ready, and I wasn’t even ordering like an LAite) my sentence to actually being the thing that ruins my day?
My biggest fear, being a ducking hypocrite. It’s what I dumped ex-boyfriends for. It also means that I can’t continue to write my ramblings as maybe I am what I hate. And that is sad that I have not been able

“to be the change you wish to see in the world”

Maybe it’s not to late to make that change. I might just ask that gentleman that is unfortunate enough to sit next to me next, to take my spare note pad and give me some notes. That’ll learn him.