The Power of Weave

Welcome traveller who journeys across the sea of blog and finds himself upon my shores. Welcome to my landscape.
I cannot even begin to describe how seeing Grief by Mike Leigh at the National Theatre made me feel yesterday afternoon. I was profoundly moved and it penetrated my heart on a very personal level. Perhaps all that is for another time.
Today I want to write about an event I was witness to a couple of night ago. A murder. An act of cannibalism.
It was 2am and I was wired on coffee. I was drugging myself up with caffeine in order to stay awake to complete my dissertation. Not being one to regularly partake in espresso stimulation these days, I was feeling a little bit ‘woohoo’, a little bit extra extra, my heart was pumping that shit through my body. If I’d not been alone I would have talked the arse of any one near me like I was on a gram of speed, chomping at the bit. But I was alone and in my very awake state witnessed a deadly act of nature.
I came across two spiders in my bathroom having a boxing match. They were bouncing and swinging about, striking out at each other with what appeared to be a fighting manner. But it became apparent that this was not in fact a boxing match, it was in fact a hostage situation. The small, thin bodied spindly legged one had captured a bigger, fatter and more hairy creature of her kind. She had caught his one half of his legs and bound them together with spider silk. He was striking out with his able side but in vein; this spider vixen was weaving and there was nothing he could do about it. As he struggled she worked away at slowly binding him with her silk. I watched with horror and awe as slowly his remaining legs were winched up, enclosing him in on himself. His body jutted forward and pulsated trying to escape, but it was too late. She was at work. She moved around him with pure confidence and focus, weaving and weaving. Her front legs at work like two knitting needles at work on a beloved jumper. Weave, weave, weave. At times she would stop and check to see the quality of her work. Making sure it was strong enough, that it would hold. There were no dropped stitches, this spider was on a mission to have her tea and she wasn’t letting it go.
It was fascinating, horrific, disturbing and brutal. I admired her.
The next morning I discovered the poor fella wrapped up tightly in a cocoon of silk and my female vixen sitting close to him, very still. I discovered later from a friend, to whom I had relayed this sight, that she was draining him of his fluid for her own being. That is what spiders operate by, internal fluid and she was drinking him dry. Sure enough when I returned home, there she was, sitting back in her corner, twice the size, her body now bloated and swollen, the empty shell of the captured spider now lying useless and limp in my soap dish. I ceremoniously flushed him down the toilet.
Chilling? Yes. It was a chilling example of the natural world and I feel honoured to have witnessed it. I believe it is good for me.
But it has thrown up some questions in side of me. How unnatural is it when as human being we fight and turn to violence? How have we, as a species, repressed this over time? I am not condoning violence, I am a lover not a fighter but if we are repressing this natural animal instinct, where does all that aggression go? Do we simply internalise it and what impact does this repressed animal instinct have on our inner emotional life? What are the consequences of civilisation?
Watching the play Grief, which explored a family who repressed emotion and subsequently destroyed their relationships because of this inability to communicate, I wonder if we are not destroying ourselves as a race by repressing our animal selves. The notion of civilisation interests me and I am not all together convinced that it is wholly good for us. Everything has it’s consequence.

A hard nut to crack

They certainly were. My DJing audience on Friday were certainly a hard nut to crack and despite extensive use of my disco weaponary, I left the gig with their shells un shatteringly in tact. Now, I pride myself on being able to get in touch with my audience and normally I do. I find what they like and I play it, I have good instincts. But at this wedding on Friday they were having none of it. The father of the bride was a little bugging and kept telling me that Level 42 would solve the empty dance floor problem.... I mean leave it out mate, Level 42????? Jesus H Christ. This is 2011. Don't get me wrong, I play anything and everything from 1940's swing to 2011 dubstep but it has never entered my conscious that Level 42 needs to make an appearance. I love my speakers, why would I do that to them? And despite the bride being a good friend and my loving her muchly, I could not wait to get out of there. If I'm honest, and not trying to make excuses, I think the problem was the bright white lights that were shining on the dance floor. Everyone was huddled around the outside and stepping onto the dance floor was like stepping onto a stage at the X-Factor auditions. This, mixed with what I consider to be a self-conscious crowd led to infrequent inhabitations of the dance floor... unless I played UB40 or Tiny Tempah. I just couldn't work them out and it was frustrating. You win some, you lose some. The bride had asked for cheese, but in hindsight I think they were a bit too 'cool' for cheese. Not my kind of crowd. I'm used to unhinged ravers who stomp their way through 18 hour raves, or pop princesses who love to pretend they are Beyonce. I put myself under both categories

I have to report that I didn't get the job I auditioned for. He was looking for someone older which is fair enough. Onwards and upwards and a new contact made.

Yesterday I was at a race course providing childrens entertainment for their family day out. It was really quiet to begin with but in the end a few kids came up and they got dressed up in our fantastic costumes and we did horse races with hobby horses. I had so much fun and love the fact I get paid for that! My only fear is how much I enjoy the chaos of childs play and will I let them get out of control? Oh well, time will tell.

Next week holds:

4000 words of a dissertion I have to do to finish my MA in Acting. Dull.
Some promo work in a cinema promoting contact lenses.
My second day at my acting agents office.
Seeing a show with two of my favorite actors: Kathryn Hunter and Marcello Magni.
Making a plan on how to make money.

Blessings xx

A Real Actress

Hallo friends.

I got a real rush yesterday. It was my first day in my agents office. We had to get me up and running, on the system and the like so I can be put up for acting work. Yes me, little old me living the dream. My photo was put up on the wall along with the other actors and there I was:
a real actress.

It feels amazing. I have come a long long way. Taken a brave step and bloody love it. This time 3 years ago I felt desperate, stuck in a job I no longer loved or cared about. It's hard being a paramedic when you feel like this. Really hard. I still cared about human beings, I just didn't want to take care of them anymore, it got too much. My heart had left and I can't live my life without my heart being engaged, that's just who I am. So sitting looking at my head shot, surrounded by other lovely actors I felt proud of myself. I've learnt I will never let myself down, there is real power in that.

I proceeded to an audition that eve (I'm living the life- insert happy face) and am tentatively waiting to hear. It would be a really brilliant opportunity but getting your hopes up is dangerous so I'm trying to control my hopes. I did my best and it's up to the director. Am I what be wants? This profession is weird cause you don't have control, you can only do your best. That's where sanity lies. Can you walk away saying and feeling you have done your best? I've been dreaming all night, different scenarios, losing my lines, stammering, being crap. Oh subconscious leave it out. But you see I have a weapon to defend me, I can't help but smile to myself, I'm living the life, I'm a real actress and that's all that matters to me deep down, so deep inside I am smiling cause I'm actually doing what I want wih my life.

I am djing at my friends wedding today. I need to download some recent chart music. Even though I'm old enough now to think it all sounds the same!!!! But I'll play whatever makes people dance. Prob invest in a Now album. I hate loading the kit into my old Astra but once I get rolling I just love it. I intoxicate people with pop, it's like being a drug dealer of synth beats.

And finally, I have grown to really love spiders. I've watched females fiercely protect their balls of eggs when I've tried to sweep them off the wall and they are such intelligent creatures. And spider webs.... nuff said.

Love xx

Here we are!

Sarah Conner is my hero. Always has been, always will be. Why? Because she is hardcore. Because she holds the heart of the human race in her destiny. Because she has good hair. Because she makes swearing a female necessity. Because she terminates Terminators. Now, my life is in no way quite as dramatic or necessary as hers but I've got a few things to share and from somewhere down below I have answered an internal calling to write myself a blog.

Having sworn at the template maker for the past 45 minutes, I am ready to go.

So, 'here we are' as my acting teacher would say. I've just finished drama school, I've had the showcase for agents and casting directors and I'm now a fully trained professional actress. All I've got to do now is get employed, preferably in something involving theatrics!

I left my job as a paramedic 1 year ago and set about following my life long dream of going to drama school and becoming an actress. So far so good. No regrets. No looking back. Just a hell of a lot of stories to tell. A lot of them involving things that people think they want to know but on hearing realise they don't. Human beings are messy creatures, inside and out, especially when they have lost their faculties, I'll spare you the finer details...... for now.

So this is my journey into my dreams. From paramedic to actress. I might quote some Shakespeare, I probably quote some Terminator (it's an unusual but character defining obsession of mine), I'll try and make some sense, I'll defiantly use spell check and above all I'll be as honest as I can within publishable limits.

Things happening this week:

A meeting with a director about an exciting opportunity involving a project about idiots.
My first day with my acting agency (it's a co-operative so I do the agent side of it too)
I am DJing for a good friends wedding.
I have my first job as a childrens entertainer.

Come along for the ride.

Much love.