crafty work

Something unexpected happened to me on my daily commute to work (okay, internship), the other morning. It usually does. I even joked with a colleague, that when travelling on the tube you have to be a person of many hats. This time I had to put a new one on.

One stop from Vauxhall an older man gestured towards my seat. If you’ve ever ridden the tube… ever, then you’ll know unusual behaviour isn’t unusual. Except he wasn’t crazy. He was trying to tell me I’d dropped my phone. But I hadn’t. Confusion ensued.

Turns out somebody had. I sighed realising I was now responsible for this phone. It’s safe journey back to whoever owned it. And I felt guilty even picking it up. I began blabbering that I’d hand it in; it’d end up back at Baker Street lost property office, no problem. My hat began taking shape.

Then I thought about how annoying this would be. They might not see it for days, weeks or months. And if I’m honest I didn’t even trust the office to get it back to them; who were they to me? So I opened it up, awaiting the person who owned it to pounce on me there and then. Take back what rightfully their’s. I quickly messaged a “sister” and hoped this would work it’s way out throughout the day.

Then it started ringing.

A massive part of me was relieved I’d messaged someone before this happened. Because we automatically think people are going to do the wrong thing. I hated the responsibility at first and the idea that I had to prove to the people in my carriage I was a good person in that moment. I remember getting my phone out at the time as my way of saying, ‘Look I have a phone, I’m not going to nick it’. Even the lady who’d lost this phone was relieved and surprised that I’d done the “right thing”, I think.

She sent me a lovely postcard, note and present as a thank you. I told her she really didn’t need to. And I felt guilty again, thinking about being rewarded for doing this “right” thing. I have no idea what the next person would have done. But I have feeling it more than likely would have been the “wrong thing”. Maybe I’m wrong?

(The real reward was filling my Saturday night with this)

It’s not all just one big dole-iday

Unemployment. It sucks. Like, massively. But like so many people these days, I’ve found this hard to change. However I’ve come up with some tips to staying sane while having no dol-lar (sorry).*

1. Complaining

I’m not saying make a fuss over nothing. No. Make a fuss over almost nothing. You walk into a coffee shop, there’s sticky syrup all over the small part you’re queuing in (for over five minutes, that’s important too) and BAM, complaint. BAM, £10 voucher. Goodbye miserable Monday, hello vanilla latte. It’s not about lying, it’s about helping the truth.

(Notable complaint wins include; guest passes to cinema, vouchers, goodie box of…goodies and expensive branded make up – if you don’t ask, you don’t get)

2. The Job Centre

BLARGH. There are so many things I could say about this. And for most of the time I want to scream and kick people in the eye (Morrissey style), BUT you can’t do that, apparently. Staying sane in a system full of the most stupid rules and people is a tough one. If I’m honest, it’s one I’ve not completely mastered. But there are a few things you can do to manage the madness. Firstly I’d advise you to remain polite. This is hard. REALLY hard, but it really annoys the person who’s telling you to go for a 40k a year job when you say, “I’m sorry you have taken the time to research that but I think my experience doesn’t quite match what they’re looking for”. When what you really want to say is, “Read the job in full before you swivel your stupid screen my way, idiot!” You’re telling them they effed up and not you.

Which leads me to my second tip – if possible (it almost certainly will be possible), make them feel as stupid as they make you feel. One of my “advisers” asked a friend of mine how to spell her degree title. This left her little hope she was going to advise her how to find a job. Most of the time they don’t even understand the roles your going for, yet they think they can tell you either how to get a job or what you’re doing wrong. If you ask them to explain their point, they usually can’t offer you anything.

And lastly, if all else fails, use the simple – GET IN AND GET OUT, method. Start asking too many questions, resisting their stupid suggestions too much or refusing to listen to their, “You might want to look into a different career” speech, then you’ve got a lock-in crystal maze style situation on your hands. By all means, don’t give up but don’t give them much either. You might end up giving someone that kick. I’ve come close.

3.Get excited about things you might think are rubbish if you had money

I’m talking about local here. Jumble sales, craft fayres, street parties, etc. Sometimes, and more often than not, you’ll need a little light relief, and more importantly, an escape from the house. Okay so it’s not much to tell but you’ll be surprised how much humour (alright, as well as boredom) can be generated out of local events. You won’t have to pay the ridiculous tube prices and you’re in walking (or running, depending on how bad it is) distance from your house.

4.Do the thing you want to do while you’re waiting

It’s not always possible to do this. For instance, if you really want to be a doctor please don’t start diagnosing people and/or prescribing over-the-counter drugs *LEGAL DISCLAIMER INSERT HERE*. No, no. If you can do it at home, then do it. You never know when you might need an example of something you want to do when you go for you first interview. And lets face it, nobody’s going to give you an opportunity without it. If you can’t do it while you’re waiting then try to (and I know it’s hard) get yourself a good internship or work experience. Internships have had some bad press in the last year, but I promise you there are good people out there. I’m currently undertaking one I love and I’m getting so much I can take with me from it.

So that’s it for now. Please feel free to comment and tell me what keeps you sane.

-

* Please ignore everything from this point on; this post was born out of a completely infuriating, hopeless day. Sorry.

Glittery Goodness

Now, I’ve already shared this with most of you. But, these are seriously the best cakes I’ve ever made. Dark chocolate and banana with chocolate fudge icing, edible glitter and peanut m&m’s and smarties. If no one was watching I’d take down both tiers. (Also check out my super cute blue cup cakes cases with beefeaters on)

Tiny Furniture

Now, I’m not talking about Sylvanian Families. If I were then I’d definitely feature my only memory of them – my friend Emma who smashed hers up after her parents divorced. If she couldn’t have a family neither could they. She had a point. No I’m talking about the release of actor, director and all round artist and writer Lena Dunham’s first feature film, Tiny Furniture.

Inspired by her own life, the film opens on Aura (played by Dunham) returning from university. She didn’t quite “find herself” there. In fact she seems to have lost herself. Completely. Something her sister Nadine (played by Dunham’s real sister) suggests is her, “epilogue to felicity”.

As well as being in her own self-confessed “post-graduate delirium” this film is about more than leaving university. Themes of becoming an adult but still living like a child with adult problems; sibling rivalry; family life and finding love, are just some of the issues this film so cleverly weaves through; never feeling too heavy but instead very real, full of moments of truth.

Speaking for a ( and maybe not her) generation growing up later, Aura is endearingly hopeless and not always through her own doing. Although it seems to be a somewhat middle class preoccupation (almost luxury), Dunham’s message still works, whispering- it’s ok not to know what you want to do, I don’t either.

Finding yourself and indulging in the getting lost is becoming less uncommon in film. With Miranda July’s The Future and Mike Mills’ Beginners being just two of the many recent films to focus on a twenty – thirty-something crisis. They’re looking at the little things, the everyday.

Sincere and playful, Tiny Furniture is certainly following and extending this wave. What’s more Dunham (or rather Aura) is leading a new slacker generation. Her work colleagues, friends and “little bit famous” on youtube friend, Jed, also relish in doing nothing. Contradictorily it is a necessity to do so in order to get somewhere. And this is where most of the film’s humour comes from. Most accurately summed up as Aura’s mum (again played by her real mum (it’s a family affair)) asks her daughter’s friend, “Do you have the same sense entitlement as my daughter?” To which she replies half naked, “Oh believe me, mine is much worse”.

A moment in life we can all identify with, it is surprisingly funny and compelling to watch. If I could I’d have happily watched Aura’s whole year. It is my year and your year at one time or another. So I urge you, go get lost in Dunham’s Tiny Furniture.

A bunch of FREAKS

I’m a freak. You’re a freak. We’re all freaks – says co-creators Nik Perring and Caroline Smailes in their new short story collection, FREAKS, illustrated by Darren Craske.

Following on from Perring’s short story collection, Not So Perfect, it’s becoming clear being abnormal is the new normal. If you’ve ever felt like a freak or weirdo or that you weren’t quite right – this is the book for you.

FREAKS, an assortment of mishaped stories (in content and form) centering around everyday people who have out-of-the-ordinary super powers (as if having a super power wasn’t quite unsual enough), is a captivating and compelling journey of escapism and affirmation. Essentially shouting right in our ears (and eyes), we’re all feeling like we don’t quite belong, and this is okay. Playing on a willed naivety while dealing with adult themes, FREAKS hits the perfect balance.

As a special treat they have been lovely enough to let us have a sneak peak before you (really must!) buy.

Check out Invisible below. Who’s written it is up to you to decide, with Perring and Smailes each writing seperately and together.

*

Invisible 

[Super Power: The ability to make oneself unseen to the naked eye]

 

If I stay totally still,

if I stand right tall,

with me back against the school wall,

close to the science room’s window,

with me feet together,

pointing straight,

aiming forward,

if I make me hands into tight fists,

make me arms dead straight,

 if I push me arms into me sides,

if I squeeze me thighs,

stop me wee,

if me belly doesn’t shake,

if me boobs don’t wobble,

if I close me eyes tight,

so tight that it makes me whole face scrunch,

if I push me lips into me mouth,

if I make me teeth bite me lips together,

if I hardly breathe,

if I don’t say a word.

Then,

I’ll magic meself invisible,

and them lasses will leave me alone.

*

Get your freaky hands on this innovative collection now. Or for the more technically inclined they’ve even gone and made you an ebook. Super.

Dazzling Debt

(boobs!)

Okay maybe this doesn’t deserve its own blog post. And then again maybe it does. But I couldn’t resist sharing the most brilliant calculator I’ve ever found with you (not that I’ve been looking or anything…) At only £4.99 from Scandinavian brand, Tiger I thought it was the only device pretty enough to tell me how much money I don’t have and not get angry.

(I can also do silly things like write ‘boobies’ when things get tough – so many uses!)

Home Sweet Home

‘What would you say to your childhood home?’ asks Art House Co-ops’s Letters To Home project. I haven’t left home yet. But I have had many homes being a student. So instead of writing a letter (of apology, really… ) to my student homes I thought I’d try and sum up my very different experiences.

Yew Tree Road was my first student home.

“The dodgy end or the nice end?” Jak, asked me when I told him where I was living. I didn’t know. Turns out it was a bit of both. Someone was shot at the end of our road and we were broken it to. But we also had a sweet but annoying old man as our neighbour who took it upon himself to tidy our garden. He was doing his bit to ignore the bad things. I lived with three boys and one girl. It actually felt like I lived with one boy because the girl came with one of the boys and the other boy was out a lot. There is always somebody who is out a lot. That boy also decided to reinforce his space; padlock his door and cupboards and not say a thing about it. That was the end to laughing at his CD collection.

Central Road was better.

(central road (artistic) chaos)

Three boys became one and one girl became none. She didn’t like paying for things. Like bills. She had to go. We didn’t have mice there either and we both knew where we stood. It was a pretty great year. We listened a lot to the couple downstairs arguing and smelt the guy smoking weed. We covered the walls with our art and our kitchen table was always inviting us to make something. It was also the year I switched courses. I felt like a fresher all over again. I had my freinds to stay and brought people back for parties. But then my friend graduated. I’d decided to live in Paris for half of the following year which led me to living with strangers all over again.

Whalley Range was a four month sentence.

I actually can’t remember the road I lived on. It’s just not there. All I remember is that it was temporary. And I was okay with that. It was always far too clean and the girl who owned it rarely went out. Her ‘one-pot’ recipe book took a battering and she wouldn’t let me wear my shoes indoors. This was not my kind of house. I shared it with another girl also. She skyped her dog daily and really had the most boring boyfriend imaginable. He laughed when I told him I’d joined a sewing soceity. I wanted to stitch his mouth up. He was a policeman and she was so scared of all the horrible things he came home with she didn’t go out. I later gave my room over to a girl who got kicked out for growing something she shouldn’t have. It was my revenge on them.

(obligatory student scumbag evidence)

Northen Grove came after Paris.

Paris is too much to sum up. Too much for here anyway. So I’ll just skim over it… My final year sent me back to living near Central Road. Joining a sewing society paid off as I met one of girls there I ended up living with. She told me there’d be cats. And there were. Ziggy and Napoleon were with us for about three months and then they had to go. One out of the five of us didn’t like them much and they needed a lot attention. We also got a lot of attention for the sofas we had in our front garden. This was the result of a house party we took a little longer than we should of getting round to fix. During this time we had a new visitor. Albert (pronounced Alber, he was French you see). A snowy white cat who came into our lives (and home) like he’d always been there. I felt very sad leaving him. We waved goodbye to our house with a house party to end all house parties. Pool, punch and plenty of dancing. Even Albert showed up. It was wonderful.

(ziggy and napoleon; my favourite housemates)

*

And that’s it. I can’t imagine living like that again. Or even living with people I don’t know very well again. Each house, flat or room was so different from the last I’d only be disappointed by what I found. Time to fill my future home with cats (and/or babies).

(Check out Art House Co-op for a weekly free burst of inspiration with the opportunity to add your submission to lots of other creatives all over the world!)

2011: The Year of The Gosling

2011 was a very good year for films; Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy; The Future; Begginers; Jane Eyre…etc.

It was also a very good year for Ryan Gosling. Forget The Year of The Rabbit. 2011 was The Year of The Gosling.*

A huge fan of his from films such as; Half Nelson and Lars and The Real Girl, I was excited to see him turning up in both independent and bigger budget films last year. However…

GOSLING WAS ROBBED. Barely a nomination. No awards. NOTHING. Sorry, not ANYTHING! This prompted me to pay him a little attention.

And so I bring to you my, Gosling 2011 Round-Up.

-

Blue Valentine

Blue Valentine like the title suggests, is an absolute heartbreaker. With a moving script and superb acting by not only Gosling but Michelle Williams also, this film will break your heart.

Seriously.

It should swap its parental guidance sticker for one warning you of the perils of finding out just what happens to couples after they’ve been together for longer than five minutes. So painful at times, it makes 500 Days of Summer look like a Rom-Com (Okay maybe that one was kind of a Rom-Com, but you get what I mean…)

With some really beautifully shots scenes, a great sountrack and an interesting manipulation of story, this film is my top pick of the lot; aptly at the top.

The Ides of March

There were so many things to already like about this film. Ok, three. No, four; Ryan Gosling, George Clooney, Paul Giamatti and Philip Seymour Hoffman.

To be honest this film could have been as bad as it liked, I’d of still found it hard to slate.

But that was before I saw it.

Often lacking in pace and…pizzaz, (yes, pizzaz), this film for me never really got going. Possibly a good cast wasted with lacklustre writing and performances; trying it seems to highlight the two-faced nature of politics its poster suggests, a little too much.

Gosling dubbed by many as the new George Clooney, is however rightfully showcased; if you look closely you can even trace him handing over the baton throughout. It’s a good progression.

Other than a great cast, if you never saw The Ides of March, you wouldn’t lose any sleep. I’ll let the academy off for this one…

Drive

(thanks to Daily Acutu)

Gosling’s highest grossing film of the year by a long shot; Drive, is probably the biggest shocker for no big award wins.

Nominated for an Oscar in sound editing, like Gosling the film was royally snubbed by the academy.

With frequent use of slow motion and explicit vioelnce, giving Goodfellas a good run for its money at times, it was a little style over substance for me.

However, Gosling gives a good performance (a pattern which seems to be emerging…) but is let down a little by Refn’s neglect of character development. We’re thrown into relationships and characters we’re supposed to care about and silences that are supposed to have a powerful poignancy (along with a lot of smiling between gosling and Mulligan). Refn can’t take all the flak for this. Gosling is pretty open about his involvement in it’s development, favouring to take a lot of the novel’s dialougue out, of which is was adapted from.

A Scorsese use of music and a noticeable change of pace in the second half, Drive was certainly still enjoyable. Possibly a tactical inner circle snub of Refn; it definitely deserved to win something.

(okay there might have been another reason i liked this film)

Crazy Stupid Love

Okay I didn’t save the best till last. And no I didn’t buy it. But it shows Gosling doesn’t really take himself too seriously. Something which is evident in interviews and various online videos flying around.

Yes, the film was cheesy but it also had some genuinely funny moments.

A film about a forty-something year old loser (a role Steve Carell seems compelled to play) seeking the return of his wife (Julianne Moore), through the help of ladies man Jacob (Gosling), kind of works. As does the relationship between Gosling and Carell.

Even when at times it could have so easily been sabotaged by both actor’s attempt at being funny, the script flows and is upheld by a strong cast.

This one is maybe one to stick on post, Blue Valentine.

Predictions for 2012: The Year of Fassbender

-

*(not to be confused with the baby animal (though…))

Pieced Back Together

Melodica, Melody & Me are back with a cheeky new video to the b-side of their, Piece Me Back Together EP. Plunge features men, women…even couples all having a lovely warm bubble bath. You can’t but help wish you were there.

After disappearing for what seems like a very long time, the band have also lined up some new tour dates across London. The highlight being their absolutely free April 1st show at Brixton’s Hootenanny. Let’s hope it’s no April Fool!

V.ery I.mportant P.ainter

The National Portrait Gallery’s Lucian Freud exhibition opens up to the public this month in London and I was lucky enough to be offered a sneak preview at this Sunday’s (5th), private showing.

And so I battled the snow and headed into a very cold Sunday morning.

Unaware of the majority of Lucian Freud’s work, I am a little embarressed to say, I was eager to discover just what his enormous collection stretching from the beginning to the recent end of his career, had instore.

Numbered and easy to follow (easier if you’re already familiar his work I’m sure), the National Portrait Gallery has done a wonderful job compiling such a vast and interesting collection.

Beginning with Freud’s earlier more finely detailed driven pieces notably featuring his first and second wife, Kitty and Caroline, (and many lovers in-between), passing iconic figures and portraits such as, Big Sue and Leigh Bowery, the collection halts to an abrupt and untimely end with his final unfinished piece, Portrait of the hound.

Kitty cat - Freud's 'Girl with Kitten'

There is a haunting quality to this painting that just had to be there. It is the unfinished limbs and bodies of the man and dog fading into the white of the canvas that appear so prominently poignant.

And, it is also the contradictory coming-to-life through Freud’s own limbs at work that reassures us this huge body of work and life won’t be forgotten in a hurry.

Highlights of the collection for me include; the chronologically ordered self portraits of Freud revealing both a change in body and character, as well as artistic style, his early surrealist portraits of first wife Kitty and a playful and revealing photograph, dotted between rooms, of Freud painting his more well known portrait of the Queen, uncovering a vulnerable and captivating atmosphere only a true artist could bring out.

Unknowing and unable to say no to a sneak peek I was pleasantly surprised to find such an interesting and accessible exhibition.

Running until 27th May, this imprresively comprehensive collection is not to be missed.

Portrait of the hound