Don't let the rain come down on me...

When I was back in college four years ago, our tutors took us to go see a production of Othello, created by the world renowned physical theatre company Frantic Assembly. I was taken aback by its risk taking, storytelling and integration of movement. I was inspired with this art form for its beauty, its rawness and its masculinity. From watching this production, I did some research into the company, and saw that they had a week long intensive training programme specifically designed for males between the ages of 16-19. I applied for this opportunity and was selected out of sixty others to participate where I had an interesting emotional and physical journey. Being around my peers, I found it difficult to discuss that I was gay, but was willing to say if anyone asked. I seemed to had donned a macho persona which prevented me from being as open as I normally was. It wasn't until after the week, chatting to a few of the cast members that they already knew but just didn't care. IT was from then on I became a lot more accepting of myself, and who I am. It was also a great opportunity to taking my mind of the recent passing away of my mother which had happened eight months prior. It made me more determined and even in the face of adversity, I am still blessed with a positive attitude.

After working with Frantic, I then went on to excel in my college course, finding inspiration from my fantastic tutors, my brilliantly energetic class mates, and from my rekindled self-worth.  I then applied to Drama Schools in and around London and got places in varying levels in three out of the five prestigious schools. I accepted an offer at East 15 to study Physical Theatre, what with that being my first choice degree.  It was a difficult process at drama school, battling with a lot of personal issues, and learning about the world, maturing and looking after oneself. Into my first term in second year, I realised that this professional vessel of education wasn't in fact the right place at that moment in time. Feeling like I just wanted to cut loose from institutions, education, responsibility and routine, I knew that I wanted to go travelling, and made the decision to leave school at Christmas. I then ended up moving to London, sofa surfing, house sitting, and crashing at friends’ houses whilst starting up a professional Drag career.  As time has told, I have been investing in things appropriately and am now becoming something I only dreamed I thought I would be.

It was an absolute pleasant surprise to receive a call from the theatre company that kick-started my career to offer me paid professional work. As it was around the time I had spent a number of weeks in depression, it was just thing I needed to boost me back into a proactive and motivated fashion. When going through the contract I realised that I shall be performing in The Royal Opera House in July. For me, this is one of the proudest moments of my life; four years ago I wouldn't have envisioned myself having the energy or inclination to be on stage, let alone somewhere as prestigious as The Royal Opera House. It’s going to be a long and intensive week, but I know I shall be feeling the physical and mental benefits… My body’s yearning for some contact improvisation!

I am overwhelmed by the world at the moment, I feel like it is gently cuddling me a nurturing me on the way to great things. The positivity and love I am exuding and receiving is wonderful, and I couldn't be doing it without all the support and kind words I receive from people. Thank you to whoever reads these blog posts too, and takes a little time in their life to follow my journey. I love you all.

‘We all deserve the best in life. If you don’t feel it has come to you yet, have patience. It’s not about waiting, allow yourself to ACCEPT that you deserve it.’

Protect ya neck...

I think it’s coming to the end of the road for me staying in this poky little room I reside in now. It’s been an arduous 5 months, battling with an ignorant, unhygienic flatmate; everything falling apart, including the will to live; and a space I wouldn't even allow battery hens to live in. Not to mention the fact that maybe I have a street gang after my blood.

After a beautiful day having lunch with friends and discussing future show ideas with inspirational people, I came home fatigued and ready for action with my pillow. I was just on the phone to the grandparents, telling them that their best grandson shall be performing at The Royal Opera House and was moments away from uttering the name of the place when I heard a distinct scuttling sound in my garden. After hearing what a rat sounded like scurrying my room from the other day, I knew it was a lot bigger than vermin. My voice trailed off as my nan was asking what was going on through the phone and I heard a loud thrashing on my door. I looked across and saw a young man of African descent covered in blood demanding entry into my room. Being a good Samaritan, I should have let him in and nursed him back to health; but being the precarious little girl I am I screamed and scarpered from my room and burst into my flatmates room. Barely being able to get the words from my mouth, my gorgeous flatmate jumped out of bed and ran straight to my room. I then got my other equally gorgeous flatmate from his room who was already with truncheon in hand (no euphemism) Whilst cusses from the ‘yout’ were being thrown at them left right and centre, they stood there and calmed the young man down whilst I feebly rang the police, barely holding the phone as I was shaking like a vibrator with new batteries. Being too scared to wait in my room as I knew my hunky flatmates were dealing with the situation, I waited for the police outside with a fag in hand wearing only my boxers. To my joy, within minutes I saw several flashing lights, and 3 police cars drove straight up to me. The first police officers came straight over, one female, and one awesomely attractive, young, tall, needed-to-be-broken-in male police officer asked for the direction of the incident. Like a school girl on heat I said ‘In my room’ and could only apologise for the mess, restraining any innuendos as it was not the time or place…

I hid in one of the boys rooms so the young man couldn't see my face to be able to recognise me and chastise me for not bandaging him up and kissing his hand better. Without needing a statement, the police officers bandaged him up, sent him on his way and left the house and out of my life. Naturally I double checked with the officer, whilst showing a bit of leg through my house coat, if there was anything else I could do…. Unfortunately there wasn't so let him on his merry way.

My room is covered in blood, and I refuse to clean it without gloves. There’s surgical equipment still in my back yard, and I am terrified of a repeat of this incident. It turned out he was running away from a rival gang, jumped the fence and saw solace from my lit bedroom window. It was unfortunate that I'm a cold hearted bitch…

After the metropolitan police get so much aggro from society, I think it is only necessary to thank them for being so rapid and dealing with it all so calmly. They were absolutely lovely, and definitely need to be paid more for the shit they do. I also think it is only apt to thank my two beautiful house-mates who stepped in when I was a nervous wreck. It’s wonderful to feel protected in your own home, when potentially it could have been violated in so many horrendous ways. Thank you, you sexy things.

So for me it’s one last cigarette, and to make love to my pillow.

‘Always use protection. Like a baseball bat.’

I'm beginning to see the light...

For the second day in a row I have taken myself on a 10 minute sprint around Finsbury Park. Even after a few cigarettes and a pint tonight, I still maintained a good speed and deep steady breathing. There’s always a first. For so long I have watched joggers and runners, speed walkers and sprinters, take themselves on a lycra coated, sweaty meander through parks and streets of London. Everytime I giggle to myself thinking how foolish they are, whilst I wait for a bus, or am running late somewhere huffing and puffing. I now take back every jibe, every cat call that I’ve ever made after experiencing how invigorating it can be to take oneself on a little 10 minute race around the park. I’m enjoying running for the first time in a long time as I am not pressured with timescales or weight loss or personal bests. I’m not trying to get healthier or fitter, or for any other reason of gaining or losing. I am running, simply because I want to run.

Of course I am feeling the positive effects of doing this task. A reconnection with deep breathing; an elevated sense of awareness, and an attachment to my physical body. But more importantly, I’m just enjoying saying ‘I’m going to go for a run’. No obligation. No hassle. I don’t even wear running shoes.

I’ve started to meditate again, weather that be at home, on the bus or in a night club. I don’t sit cross legged, breath deep and chant Buddhist mantras, but merely reflect. I have rekindled my being with my surroundings and am allowing myself to choose who I let near me, or communicate with. I am managing to disengage from people I feel who would drain my energy, and engage with the ones who I can feel a fluidity of exchanges with.  I am in a very delicate phase at this moment and have to get back in tune with me before I allow myself to share to the world. I radiate a lot of energy and positivity and need to allow myself some of it before I carry on giving.

It’s all very zen, but makes perfectly good sense. I’m enjoying being proactive and steady.

‘We’re all mad here’

A spoon full of sugar....

Today I have started to take proactive steps to get synchronised with myself. After spending a whole day in bed yesterday, wallowing over two really hard gigs and and extremely busy night, I could feel that my body wasn't happy with me for self inducing depression. I struggled waking up this morning due to my body clock being annoyed with me, and I willed myself to get up and shower. It's amazing how having a shower can really reinvigorate you to feel revitalised and ready to tackle the world.

Not having any commitments for the whole day I decided that it was the perfect time to get my hands dirty and 'de-clutter' the tiny cell which is my room. I changed tactics today and commenced at the opposite end of my room of which I normally leave till last. My wardrobe. After passing the sniff test, each item of clothing what I deemed repeatable was carefully hung back in my wardrobe, whilst trying to ensure I didn't knock the whole rail oh of it's bracket which it oh-so-regularly decides to do. 

After several hours and a ridiculous amount of sweeping, my room was almost there. With the homestretch in sight I though it best to reward myself with a break. So I had a another shower, called my friends and jumped on a bus to Shoreditch

Don't blame it on the sunshine.....

Spring is most definitely here! I’m sitting outside, on my chair, apple juice in one hand and a fag in the other, and taking in the scent of freshly cut Finsbury Park grass. To say that this was needed is an understatement. It seems I’m not the only one affected by SADS (Seasonal Affected Disorder). All my close friends have realised they all need a holiday with sunshine after their moods lifted since the sun made an unexpected appearance! I think I shall follow suit and go to a few sunny places this year… I’m manifesting Barcelona and Egypt again!

I’ve just returned back to London from visiting my family back in Norfolk. My short break was well overdue and it just goes to show that a bit of unconditional love from family, children and animals goes a long way. Although I only had a few days back home, it really gave me an opportunity to relax and rekindle with my personal self, something we should all do once in a while. I have started to recognise things in me that will help me to connect with my emotional, mental and physical needs and know when I am self-destructing these precious elements of human existence. But it’s only just the start of this journey of sensitivity and self-awareness. I do not know all the answers and I am not going to start making irrational decisions. Positivity and honesty will be a new mantra that I should keep in mind – positivity in actions and honesty to myself.

London seems lifted, spring has sprung, but my room is still a mess. I was listening to programme about cleaning on radio 4 with the Scottish one from ‘How Clean is your House’ (Kim or Aggie, both as insane as each other) explaining that people don’t ‘spring clean’ anymore as we so frequently do it over the course of the year, but merely ‘de-clutter’. I was also informed by the programme that cleaning products should drop in price over the next month. Looks like I need to get me to Sainsburys and buy the shelves bare and ‘de-clutter’ the SHIT out of my room. Tidy house, tidy mind and all.

And  to you hounds who want me to write more…. This is my blog. This is my opportunity to express how I feel in a cohesive manner. It’s my cathartic memoirs. I will not feel pressured, I will not feel obligated, and this will not become a chore to do. I give so much of my soul for others pleasure, entertainment and wants. This blog is not one of them.

‘Live, love, be’

The Crying Game

Hello you beautiful world!

This last year has put me through a wonderful and relentless rollercoaster of emotions. I’ve had build ups and break downs in relationships; saw a personally undiscovered part of Europe; been in and out of touch with myself as a person, a performer and a character; had a lot of success in a very short period; made some incredible friends and family; had a phenomenal amount of fun and spent more money than I own. I am thankful for the year that I have had for the opportunities with experimenting with parts of me that are still worth exploring, and for the love and support from all who have encouraged me and given me critical analysis of my craft and my personal behaviour. Most of all I am thankful to myself for realising that the true healer is time, patience and perseverance.

Over the last few weeks, I have felt an overwhelming change in my perception of where I place myself in this world. I have been through quite a few dark moments, reliving moments in my life I never wanted to see again, but was able to have a forgiving and objective rationale throughout in order to reassess coping mechanisms and self-destructive behaviours. Although I still wouldn’t say I am out of this difficult phase, taking time for me and being gentle to my soul is beneficial for the journey to my own personal acceptance.

I’ve realised that in the last year I have been working on overdrive, something I’ve always enjoyed doing as it gives me no time to feel lazy. I’ve let aspects of my career takeover my life in order for me to not allow myself the pain I am going through, which has sometimes manifested in aliments, arguments or antisocial behaviour. I’ve said the things I know others would want me to say, in order to continue on in this manner and I’ve not held the hands of people reaching out to me. For too long now I have been out of touch with my emotions, thinking crying and talking about the past is weak and drains the people close to me. I’m beginning to realise I’ve put too much pressure on myself and have got to find a proficient release which doesn’t make me feel like a burden. My close friends have told me I need to go to therapy, and I feel the same way too. I’m just scared to delve back into parts of my life I thought I’d already dealt with.

Balancing ones life isn’t just about eating the right food, or taking regular exercise. It  shouldn’t be just thinking about the physical properties of ones bodies within a space. I’m feeling a strong cry from my soul yearning for a spiritual awakening, but is being blocked by the emotional bricks I’ve piled on top of it. I want to apologise to myself being so brave. But now it’s time to be braver and open the floodgate. Life is about discovery, and there is a pool I’m missing out on from inside.

‘Beauty isn’t in the eye of the beholder. It’s in everything.’ 

There's a storm in my wine glass....

I am sitting here in glorious Leeds in a more expensive version of Weatherspoons. The current clientèle seems to be the love-children of the Benidorm cast and northern versions of members of TOWIE. All who seem to be on their stag/hen doo's. And what makes it more interesting is that the majority of this interesting species have donned their St Patrick's day Guiness hats. And I bet none of them celebrated St Georges day. Philistines.

So this is where my first gig outside of London is. In Leeds. Multicultural, intellectual Leeds. I am looking forward to seeing the reactions of the townsfolk of seeing a beautiful tranny, walking down the cobbled streets in holographic heels and a costume which the kids from Stricly Baby Disco would be jealous of. (I don't normally post links, but this programme is a MUST-SEE http://www.channel4.com/programmes/strictly-baby-disco/4od )

It's pissing it down. Great. No umbrella and now Miss Cairos mascara will run. The show will go on.

Well, the last few weeks have been interesting, and I have been constantly annoyed that I have had so many funny blogs that I could have wrote. But with out a charger I can do naff all, but think about all the things I coulda, shoulda and woulda. I haven't been as much of an extrovert as usual, and a lot of my epiphany moments have been very internal. But I have been drinking a lot.

My plans have now changed. I am not going 'travelling' per se. I shall be travelling around, but not in the sense of shedding everything, wearing linen trousers and joining a bedouin village in a kibbutz. I left drama school to feel free and young and to shed all of my routines. But dare I say, I have realised that not having a humble abode, crashing on peoples couches, whilst climbing the proverbial ladder of the performing industry, is making me feel as free as ever. I don't have to bugger of halfway round the world to 'find myself'. I can do that in London...looking in a mirror is always a good place to start.

I am enjoying earning my own wage, and appreciating that the more stuff I want to do or have, I have to work harder and make sacrifices in order for me to understand the difference of needing and wanting. I can have anything I want. Everything is completely obtainable. And if I don't work hard at something I want, I obviously don't want it that much.

My plan is as follows: Work hard, take some holidays around Europe, come back to London and get famous.

I am bored of being humble. I have never wanted fame. But right now, as a naive 20 year old, I can stop being so humble. I can work just as hard, but instead of trying to change the world, work with it to then turn it on it's head.

Not eating and drinking wine is SILLY. I ramble too much.

Bored now. Will write some more tomorrow...

Peace