Saturday, 31 March 2012

energy at 3am

I shall begin with the considerably generalized comment of: So much has happened as of late that I sooner or later follow with the thought, 'I must blog about this'. But these things keep happening, the thoughts keep occurring faster than my mind can keep up with, and this results in a significantly neglected blog and a mind so entirely full up to capacity that I am sat at my desk at 2.30am almost shaking and buzzing from empty, hollow energy. The kind of tired energy. The energy that doesn't switch off no matter how hard you try. The energy that has resulted in me manically laughing like a crazy drunk girl high from the illusions, insanity, and senselessness of life itself.

Granted, today has been a little unbalanced. A good friend of mine has been in hospital, which is always worrying and leaves me feeling helpless and sad. I have a number of people I care about so very much who I wish I could do more than simply 'be there'. Being there is never enough. Or at least it never feels enough.

Anyway - I am going to try to gather together certain things to form a coherent piece of writing for this blog. I know already that it will not be coherent. I wanted to mention the dream I had last night.. I had a dream that an assignment deadline was frighteningly fast approaching. In fact, I had not even written one page and was left with less than an hour to finish the essay. Clearly an impossible task. This dream occurred when I had dozed off to sleep at midnight and woken up at 1am. I woke up in such a panic over the 'dream-deadline' that I fired off an email to my tutor asking for a tutorial with her over the Easter holidays because I needed to see her sooner than three weeks time. She is wonderfully helpful, so she proceeded to reply to this email promptly at 9.30 this morning offering me a meeting with her on Monday morning. I of course read this email feeling rather confused until I realized that actually, in my 1am dazed and dream-like panic, I had emailed her. Oh my.

On a lighter note, it has been what can only be described as gloriously warm weather. Coats have not been required and I have even indulged in purchasing some pastel shade nail polish and some semi-outrageous floral sunglasses to greatly welcome the sun into life. Wonderful, wonderful sun. An ever-natural anti-depressant. The little snippets of spare time I have had, have been spent outside in the gardens of York city enjoying beverages either alone with a book and lovely music, or with a friend. Music, books, contemplation, lectures, writing, thoughts, more reflective philosophical contemplation, and work, placement, planning appointments, food diaries, jobs, possible jobs, and more. I worked a couple of days this week - a shoot for Victoria Quarter magazine again. It's always nice to get booked again from clients you have worked for before. It was hard work - but work is always good. And an excuse to go home and see my lovely sister (partly because she does brilliant massages for a thirteen year old).

This week has also been a reminder than lifting the caffeine ban was a bloody brilliant decision. How did I cope a year without it?? I do not know. The little kick of a small dose of caffeine is well and truly welcomed with open arms back into life. Perhaps this is a contributing factor as to why I am still buzzing at almost 3am? Perhaps, perhaps? Goodness only knows. They do say (the wise old creatures we often refer to as 'they') - that the night is wasted on sleep. Like youth is wasted on the young, supposedly. Why sleep just because the sun goes down? The world doesn't stop moving round and round. Time doesn't freeze. We don't stop breathing. Unfortunately we are not super-human and some things are beyond all we will ever have the power to control.

I have been adopting very philosophical thinking as of late. Very, very thoughtful and reflective ways of thinking. Anna very wisely said that we are all philosophers in our own right. I actually like this and agree. How incredible it would be to be a philosopher. The more I read (I am reading a brilliant book at the moment), the more I learn about people, the more I work - both academically and otherwise, the more I open my eyes to the world.. I just think. I do sit quietly and think. I shall without a doubt share some of these thoughts - and of course some words from the said book too. There are endless beautiful words for me to remember in there. It's one that's providing me with a little knowledge for one of my assignments, called 'Necessary Losses'. And somehow I'm relating a lot. I know why. But the way it is written also, it compliments my patterns of thought and my way of relating to the world and myself.

I shall stop my ramblings before I lose the will to stop myself!
Hot chocolate shall be made
Book, then sleep.. And hopefully no midnight panic emails to the tutor this evening.
Happy Easter holidays (as of now I have three weeks off university. Let's hope I get lots of jobs)

Sunday, 25 March 2012


the meaning of reality

Last night I succeeded in reading the book 'A Grief Observed' by C. S. Lewis in one sitting. It's possibly one of the few somewhat short but intriguing books there are (in my opinion) so it is very possible to read it from start to finish in one evening.
He writes about reality. The words are about reality - yet the pages of the book take us simultaneously out of reality. Enough contact to relate but distanced enough to separate. The space between the pages, words, and your own mind are enough to create the distance. It's a fine balance - between feeling and understanding. Between the existence of realism and fantasy. Between our perfectionist ideals and life's actuality.
Such a fine, delicate line.

Can imagination coexist with the bitter substance of the real world? What does reality really mean? Is it possible to exist (albeit naively - down to interpretation) in a reality we have self-created? We are continuously presented with messages of wisdom and advice: 'life is what you make of it - you are the future - the world is your oyster - go and create beauty'. All these, messages of power and autonomous control if you like. Control of the future. In other words, the future is not set in stone. It is to be created by those living in it. Reality can be created, not fought against.
But we also see less gentle and appealing messages of harsh incompatible truth? (again - it is what you make of it). These messages imply that the world is evil rooted. Life is a lonesome brutal battle - good against evil until the very end. Life is what it is. Reality can never be changed - we must surrender to it and do all we can to survive. Some come out winning and others fall before their time.

So the messages appear contradictory.
It's no wonder we get lost.
It's no wonder we question our very being if given half the chance.

'Finally, if reality at it's very root is so meaningless to us - or, putting it the other way round, if we are such total imbeciles - what is the point of trying to think about anything else? This knot comes undone when you try to pull it tight.'
- 'A Grief Observed', C. S. Lewis

Saturday, 24 March 2012

song of the week

My wonderful sister Frankie kindly let me borrow a handful of her CD's, including Ben Howard's album. My goodness, it is a beautifully written album with some wonderful lyrics that I wanted to share. It has definitely been the 'soundtrack to my week'. A lot of reflective contemplation, reading, writing, thinking, alone time, and time with others.
Just, time.
I always find that words combined with music have a certain depth that words alone cannot reach. My iPod has been travelling along with me everywhere this week. Always playing a melancholy yet comforting tune. 

'Everything will start again anew,
cause everything just goes away my friend.
And every king knows it to be true
and every kingdom must one day come to an end.'

Ben Howard, Everything.

Friday, 23 March 2012

In blackwater woods

'Every year, everything I have ever learned
in my lifetime leads back to this; the fires
and the black river of loss whose other side
is salvation, whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal; to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go'

In Blackwater Woods, Mary Oliver.

I have just finished reading a book trying to fool myself that it'll help with the next essay I have to write, but really it is just a wonderfully written and moving memoir of a woman's journey to her death.
I have always found myself strangely drawn to the 'sad' stories so it's no surprise I have enjoyed this book.
'Before I Say Goodbye' by Ruth Pickardie.
It was recommended by a lecturer while we were covering separation, loss, and attachment. So, of course, with my strange fascination, I sit here with a small mountain of uplifting sounding books about such subjects.

Sunday, 18 March 2012

behind the scenes round 2

Second S/S 2012 Harvey Nichols show last week - slightly more painful on the feet this time. They are currently suffering. But Louboutins are far too beautiful to complain about. 

on a sunny, cold, beautiful Mother's Day

Today is March 18th 2012 - Mothering Sunday.
I spent yesterday drinking coffee with Kat, watching a film at the cinema (We Bought a Zoo) which by the way, is a definite must-see. And then a trip top Harrogate to have a drink with friends and spend the evening at home, ready to spend time with family today for Mother's Day. And that is what we did. A lot of catching up, and a rather long walk with Bryony, Mum, and the dog out to a beautiful reservoir. It was sunny, just deceivingly cold. But it was freeing to be away from the house, away from housemates, and out in the fresh air. 

Saturday, 17 March 2012

a story from today

It is currently 4.15am, so really this is a story from yesterday but as I have not slept yet, it seems relevant to post this before I sleep, before today turns into tomorrow and before a new story of tomorrow is created.

This morning I finished my social psychology essay and submitted it before leaving to go to Manchester for castings. As I was waiting at the platform at the train station, I noticed the most beautiful boy sat on the bench also waiting. I decided to sit next to him - it was rather busy and I had fifteen minutes to kill so purchased a cup of tea and sat beside the mystery boy while I waited. He was beautiful. Early twenties, tall, dark, handsome. A little tanned. Not too dark, but a healthy glow, nothing more. He wore a casual shirt and jeans, had his iPod playing, and also had wonderful deep blue eyes. He just looked gentle. It is impossible to know too much about a person simply from their appearance but sometimes there is a certain unspoken vibe. Micro-communications. Mannerisms. The way they look at you, the way they look at others, and the way in which you can discover a little more about a person from their eyes.

At this point, I have to point out I am not a psychopath girl with stalker tendencies. I just happen like people. I find people endearing; especially those who have a little air of mystery about them. I believe it's a common theme of my writing - but really, where would we be without people? The world would be a somewhat mundane and ordinary lifeless planet without the beautiful people who offer a unique way of being.

Anyway - the story.
The train arrived at the station, there was of course a mad rush of people fighting over the spare seats. I stood up, and left the mystery boy still sat on the bench. He obviously was not heading to Manchester. I found a seat, sat down, and waited for the train to leave but it remained at the platform for an unusually long period of time. It was then, that I looked up to see at eye level a model book belonging to me. It was my book. In the crowd of people, I had left it on the platform. I looked further up to see who was holding it, and mystery boy had stopped the train from leaving to walk through the crowds of people on the train, find me, and return my book to me. I am aware this is just one small gesture that may be absolutely meaningless to the majority of people, but afterall - isn't it the smallest gestures that signify the largest meaning? I was taken aback not just because he honestly was beautiful. He didn't have to stop the train just to return my book to myself. But he did. He made me smile - and that, is just lovely.

If this was a romantic novel, he would perhaps find me again. We would meet again. Fate or coincidence, we would cross paths again, and who knows? The imagination knows no bounds. There are no limits to creativity. We can paint a picture, and that picture is as real as we believe it to be.

But life is life. And it is unfortunately not a romantic novel. It is not an idealized story that we create for ourselves and appropriately edit whenever we wish, whenever it becomes too unbearable to hold alone. But it is not to say that moments like this should be overlooked. I have a mind that sometimes gets a little carried away - probably made clear by the copious amount of writing I tend to do at times like this (4.30am). Stories like this are very much real life, and serve the purpose of reminding us that life is lovely and good. There are people out there who really make the world a better place. Even if that is bringing a smile to one person's face on one insignificant day for one small moment. The world is made a better place.

That is the story of today.

Wednesday, 14 March 2012

don't mind if I do indulge..

Today was day two of Harvey Nichols shows in Leeds. Again, lovely lovely people and good show. Shall put a few pics up at some point. Had the most wonderful chats with my make up artist too. I adore that about my job - always meeting really endearing and interesting individuals.
Anyway, I have returned home, with cup of tea, and ready to do a little more essay writing. Oh, the thrills of being a model and a student. 
The focus of this post is only to state that there really is not a better way to start the day than a soy latte, free of charge, personalized, courtesy of Starbucks.   

Sunday, 11 March 2012

amazing, amazing realness

I watched the film, 500 Days of Summer last night. It was on TV and I've never actually seen this film fully from start to finish despite many opportunities to do so. I am not one for your usual love story where girl meets boy and falls in love. I like to see beauty, but in it's absolute authentic reality. But this one is different. It is beautiful. I'm not even sure if I believe in 'love' as such. I mean, of course I do. Of course I see love and beauty and feel compassion and adoration. But 'love' in the sense of two beings coming together as one because they are 'meant to be'? It just seems somewhat too naive and idealistic for such a thinker as I am.
Anyway - there are some wonderful words spoken  in this film, about life and loneliness. But I particularly like these words..

'And then I'm running so fast that my feet aren't even touching the ground and I'm floating. And it's like this amazing, amazing realness. I'm free. I'm safe. Then I realize, I am completely alone. And then I wake up.'
- 500 Days of Summer.

It actually reminds me of something I said to a friend earlier; about a disconnection from life. So much so that it feels as though you are not even walking on the ground. No sense of time or gravity. No real space but you have all the possible space in the world. No real existence but a profoundly real intrinsic existence at the very same time.

Okay it's probably clear that my mind is rambling away and it will continue to do so and baffle anyone who may be reading this unless I stop myself.
I shall take this as my cue to get some reading done now for my assignments. Attachment theory and adult attachment types are on the agenda for now, followed closely by some social psychology, deindividuation, and depersonalisation.

Oh, and it is wonderfully sunny outside.

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

behind the scenes today

Today's shoot took me to the studio of the ever so lovely Asia Burrill. Tess Daly provided the most amazing wardrobe for styling, including beautiful masks and this one particular body lace dress. Shots shall follow soon, but here is a little iPhone snap the assistant took at the studio

backstage at Harvey Nichols S/S 2012

Tuesday, 6 March 2012


Yesterday entailed lectures, tutorials, and the evening back at home for my mother's birthday. We had a home cooked birthday dinner followed by lemon cake, plenty of chatting and happy smiles around the table. The mother actually just seemed happy enough to have us all together. En route to the show this morning, essay stress rather cunningly put aside nice and neatly in a little box in my mind to deal with later.
Starbucks vanilla rooibus tea in hand and the hat is back. It must be feeling a little more like spring.

Monday, 5 March 2012

a Sunday song

If you were to read through my tweets from tonight it is plain as day that I have been listening to Damien Rice on repeat for the majority of the day. Approximately ninety percent of this Sunday has been spent on the laptop in my bedroom with a scented candle burning and cup of tea in hand while observing the grey and rainy skies outside my bedroom window and feeling somewhat comforted in the knowledge that there is safety within the four walls of my room. I finished the first draft of my social psychology essay - therefore, completing the mission of today. I now have the following four days to edit, reference and perfect my masterpiece (which in reality may be perceived as total and utter bollocks).
Ever the optimist at 3am.

There is a certain air of delicate grace in Damien Rice's words and music. Calming and gentle and lovely.

'Nothing is lost, it's just frozen in frost
And it's opening time, there's no one in line...
.. And I've still got me to keep me warm.
Warmer than warm'

- Damien Rice, Grey Room.

Sunday, 4 March 2012

to be different

'You are different'
What does this mean?
Different compared to who, or what, or when?
Or just 'different'..
Sometimes it is good to be different. To be unique in some kind of way. Distinct, distant, individual, peculiar, abnormal, rare, unusual.. The words could go on and on in a never ending sort of way.
So yes, sometimes different is good. Lovely even. Sometimes it is intriguing and  mysterious and endearing. But on the other hand, it is scary and unknown. The different ones don't tick boxes and don't conform to the expected behaviour. They have a certain air of unpredictability.
Why am I over thinking this? I have an essay to write in which some reflective insight and plenty of words would be incredibly useful. A 'different' approach would be useful. A focussed mind would be equally welcome. So why over-think this?
What does it mean to be different?

a week behind the scenes

Saturday, 3 March 2012

snakes and such

I have been wanting to blog but have been constantly far too exhausted. I am still exhausted but anything is a welcome distraction today so here I am. A million and more words in my mind; only a few appropriate for blogging about, but here I am. I shall attempt to draw a little picture of this week, in the form of words.

Whoever knew that I would develop an appreciation of snakes? Snakes out of all things? Yes. Snakes. I did a test shoot yesterday with two 5ft long snakes but we only really worked using the larger one of the two. Most of the team were somewhat afraid. I was of course a little nervous - I'd never even touched one of these strange creatures before but once I learned how to handle him I really really enjoyed it. Definitely the best shoot I've done in a while. We had a lovely, lovely team, a fairly relaxed day, and lemon drizzle cake for lunch :)

The snake I took a liking to was called Jake. Admittedly, a snake still wouldn't be the pet of my choice, but it was such a surprisingly calming experience. Given certain happenings this week, this calming and gentle being is what I needed so perhaps I was just holding out for anyone, or anything to love me. But the less said about that, the better. Perhaps it was just this particular snake but he was ever so gentle and peaceful. When he was comfortable and rested he would rest his head on my shoulder next to my ear and fall asleep. His entire body would relax and I could feel his breathing in and out and in and out. It could almost be used as snake therapy.

Prior to this snake shoot I had a brief stint in London with three other beautiful models from Boss - Lauren, Wing, and India, for a L'Oreal hair show. These three are really really lovely girls to be away with and we of course found time for sushi, tea drinking, and late night chats. All part of the job, oui? Plus side - Lots of goodies in the form of make up and hair care for us to take home.

So the times that don't account for working or sleeping on trains, consist of a daydream of thoughts, actions, things I may or may not have said or done. There's a state of being which we slip into when we are in-between dreaming and consciousness. I seem to spend a lot of time existing in a state very similar to this. It is wonderful, of course. Why would it be anything other than wonderful if it is something we create for ourselves? The point being, that it is not reality. Right now, reality is a land in which I must find my feet and it must begin tomorrow. I currently have a substantial amount of essay writing to be done. This should not be too challenging, given that I am now fully stocked up with vanilla rooibus tea. I have my notes and papers at the ready. All I need is my mind, and a little sleep tonight.

Anna has arrived in my room. Lovely lovely Anna.
Last night I fell asleep in her bed, she then decided to sleep in mine. It was funnier at the time. Still amusing now, but yes. The life of the crazies.