These are a few still shots from a student film I wrote and starred in called 'Playing With Sharks.' The storyline is based around a group of four people, who are arguing amongst themselves about the deception and bad friendships they each have. It becomes more and more serious and tense till the final reveal is that they are in fact arguing over a game of Monopoly. I'm really proud to be a part of this film, even if it was a challenge for me as an actress.
Wednesday, 25 April 2012
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Ludwig Van Beethoven.
Be calm - love me - to-day - yesterday.
What longing in tears for you - You - my Life - my All - farewell. Oh, go on loving me - never doubt the faithfullest heart.
Of your beloved L
Ever thine
Ever mine
Ever ours.
To Immortal Beloved.
...We shall probably soon meet, even to-day I cannot communicate my remarks to you, which during these days I made about my life - were our hearts close together, I should probably not make any such remarks. My bosom is full, to tell you much - there are moments when I find that speech is nothing at all. Brighten up - remain my true and only treasure, my all as I to you. The rest the gods must send, what must be for us and shall.
Your faithful
Ludwig.
Gary Oldman.
"Acting is living truthfully under imaginary circumstances.
I enjoy the most playing those characters where the silence is loud."
Saturday, 14 April 2012
Paul.
This specific blog entry has taken me a long time to finish and publish, because it is so near to my heart. Please take the time to read it, absorb it and don't judge anyone for it.
When I was a baby, my dad walked out and left. Since then, he has been in and out of my life, but more so with my brother Paul. When Paul got into his teens and lost control, my dad couldn't handle it. My brother dabbled with drugs and drink a lot. I remember seeing him on edge all the time, staying in his room to mong out with his friends instead of going outside. He's so gifted with drawing, but he was throwing it all away. Within a year of my dad disappearing for the millionth time out of Paul's life, he'd gained an A in GCSE Art and was heading to Art College. So it went on till he was 18, when he got a motorbike. He had everything going for him, a well paid job as a Sous Chef and a growing love and interest of tattoos. But he crashed his bike. He crashed it into a laundry van. He skidded across the road and ripped his hip muscle. It repaired itself, but not correctly. It's formed in a twisted way, which means my brother can't walk properly. He uses a stick to aid himself and is undergoing intense physiotherapy. For three years after the accident, no doctor would believe him. Scans, tests and endless waiting ensued till he even had to go to court to prove he was genuine. Last year, he won. He is now classed by the government as permanently disabled. He may even have to undergo a hip replacement, before he's 25. He's agoraphobic, which means he's scared to be outdoors on his own. He mostly stays tucked inside his flat. But this is only half of the story.
When Paul was in his bad state of mind, he never quite recovered. His temper would be intense, and it would take him seconds to snap from one to the other, with no recollection of how he was an hour later. He'd have days where he felt invincible, like he could achieve anything. He used those days to find himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop and began learning the trade. But he would also have very down days. He's been a self harmer since he was 13 and attempted on many occasions to end it all. It wasn't until he was 21 that a shrink would even look at him, and now at 22 he's been diagnosed with Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder and Acute Schizophrenia. A lot to handle. But Paul had been in that mental state since I could remember. As a 12 year old, when he'd leave for work, I'd sneak into his room and hide his razorblades. Or I'd walk in and have to wrestle them out of his hand. Or sometimes worse. I'd take him to the hospital, clean him and bandage him up and then sit with him all night, while he'd sleep on and off so I'd know he was safe.
I'm very protective of my brother, but I have right to be. As far back as I can remember, he's always fought to prove others wrong. It took us a long time to understand, my Mum especially. She'd get angry at first, not understanding what caused him to swing so easily. Now she gets upset a lot, sometimes freezing on the spot when she's heard something's happened. But she tries her hardest to be there. Now I'm two hours away and when things happen, I feel helpless. I have an instinct to go there and act a certain way, to look after him. He might not be in a stable mental state now, but one day, he will be. His cat, Lilly, has saved him many times. Even the idea that he can't hurt himself too much because Lilly won't have anyone to look after her. Or when he's at his flat, I know he's never alone, because he's got his little cat who adores him. You may think this is all just a big plea, but the point I'm getting at is that people have hidden pasts, or secrets. They may not be there on the surface but they still hold that person close to tears when they think of it. Negativity and words are thrown around like they have no meaning. Calling someone a 'freak' or a 'loser' might just be a joke, but to someone with bipolar, that could be a trigger which turns them suicidal. When people say phrases like 'Go jump off a bridge' it angers me, because they have no idea what people hide in their personal life. My brother, the only other person in this world to share my parents, has come through so much. He's brave and so determined to prove people wrong. And I'm very proud to say I'm his sister. I may have to rescue him sometimes, but I know he'd do it for me.
When I was a baby, my dad walked out and left. Since then, he has been in and out of my life, but more so with my brother Paul. When Paul got into his teens and lost control, my dad couldn't handle it. My brother dabbled with drugs and drink a lot. I remember seeing him on edge all the time, staying in his room to mong out with his friends instead of going outside. He's so gifted with drawing, but he was throwing it all away. Within a year of my dad disappearing for the millionth time out of Paul's life, he'd gained an A in GCSE Art and was heading to Art College. So it went on till he was 18, when he got a motorbike. He had everything going for him, a well paid job as a Sous Chef and a growing love and interest of tattoos. But he crashed his bike. He crashed it into a laundry van. He skidded across the road and ripped his hip muscle. It repaired itself, but not correctly. It's formed in a twisted way, which means my brother can't walk properly. He uses a stick to aid himself and is undergoing intense physiotherapy. For three years after the accident, no doctor would believe him. Scans, tests and endless waiting ensued till he even had to go to court to prove he was genuine. Last year, he won. He is now classed by the government as permanently disabled. He may even have to undergo a hip replacement, before he's 25. He's agoraphobic, which means he's scared to be outdoors on his own. He mostly stays tucked inside his flat. But this is only half of the story.
When Paul was in his bad state of mind, he never quite recovered. His temper would be intense, and it would take him seconds to snap from one to the other, with no recollection of how he was an hour later. He'd have days where he felt invincible, like he could achieve anything. He used those days to find himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop and began learning the trade. But he would also have very down days. He's been a self harmer since he was 13 and attempted on many occasions to end it all. It wasn't until he was 21 that a shrink would even look at him, and now at 22 he's been diagnosed with Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder and Acute Schizophrenia. A lot to handle. But Paul had been in that mental state since I could remember. As a 12 year old, when he'd leave for work, I'd sneak into his room and hide his razorblades. Or I'd walk in and have to wrestle them out of his hand. Or sometimes worse. I'd take him to the hospital, clean him and bandage him up and then sit with him all night, while he'd sleep on and off so I'd know he was safe.
I'm very protective of my brother, but I have right to be. As far back as I can remember, he's always fought to prove others wrong. It took us a long time to understand, my Mum especially. She'd get angry at first, not understanding what caused him to swing so easily. Now she gets upset a lot, sometimes freezing on the spot when she's heard something's happened. But she tries her hardest to be there. Now I'm two hours away and when things happen, I feel helpless. I have an instinct to go there and act a certain way, to look after him. He might not be in a stable mental state now, but one day, he will be. His cat, Lilly, has saved him many times. Even the idea that he can't hurt himself too much because Lilly won't have anyone to look after her. Or when he's at his flat, I know he's never alone, because he's got his little cat who adores him. You may think this is all just a big plea, but the point I'm getting at is that people have hidden pasts, or secrets. They may not be there on the surface but they still hold that person close to tears when they think of it. Negativity and words are thrown around like they have no meaning. Calling someone a 'freak' or a 'loser' might just be a joke, but to someone with bipolar, that could be a trigger which turns them suicidal. When people say phrases like 'Go jump off a bridge' it angers me, because they have no idea what people hide in their personal life. My brother, the only other person in this world to share my parents, has come through so much. He's brave and so determined to prove people wrong. And I'm very proud to say I'm his sister. I may have to rescue him sometimes, but I know he'd do it for me.
Sunday, 8 April 2012
Easter.
I'm not a religious person whatsoever, I consider myself a bit of a blank canvas to be honest. But I do love Easter. It's a time for families and celebrating, but it's filled with more chocolate and less snow than Christmas. I used to love the Easter Egg hunt at gatherings when I was younger too. I'd run around and find all the tiny eggs hidden in small places where the other big kids couldn't reach. This year, I'm a lot more older and wiser to be taking part but I will have my handy cup of tea and my chocolate egg, ready to devour.
Happy Easter!
Mary Poppins.
Oh, happiness is blooming all around her.
The daffodils are smiling at the dove.
When Mary holds your hand, you feel so grand.
Your heart starts beating like a big brass band.
Oh, it's a jolly holiday with Mary.
No wonder that it's Mary that we love.
Friday, 6 April 2012
Fairy Tales.
Sunday, 1 April 2012
Drive.
Driver: On the phone There's a hundred-thousand streets in this city. You don't need to know the route. You give me a time and a place, I give you a five minute window. Anything happens in that five minutes and I'm yours. No matter what. Anything happens a minute either side of that and you're on your own. Do you understand?
Pause
Driver: Good. And you won't be able to reach me on this phone again.
Charmander.
When I first found out I was moving to Sheffield and completely changing my life (a scary thought looking back now!) I started to find people on Facebook who were also getting offers. One of these was this girl, Charmaine. Out of everyone I spoke to, she had the same mindset as me and we got on really well. Seeing her the first day in a room full of strangers was so comforting and now 8 months later, she is one of the closest friends I have. She is beautiful and kind and completely genuine, and she speaks a lot of truth, which I never let her know about because it means admitting I'm wrong! She sticks by to what she believes in and doesn't care how the rest of the world sees her. She's never judgemental and always just wanting you to be happy. She was the first person I had my heart set on living with, and I can't wait. She's so much fun and she had opened my eyes to my naiveties, and because of that, made me a better person. I hope this will be a nice surprise for her to read, but I knew the moment we became friends, it was going to stay that way for a long time. Shmoo, you're an incredible, strong and wonderful human being. Make sure you stay in my life for as long as possible please, because I don't know what state I'd be in without you. Plus, we still need to make a scrumptious vegan chocolate cake and my meat eating body can't do it alone!
Motto.
This one photo sums up my whole personality, belief system and life aspirations in five words. Effortlessly.
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