SING FROM YOUR SOUL AND FATE FOLLOWS

After a long day of doing whatever the billions of us do everyday, we should climb into bed, legs weary and head heavy, able to recite our day’s achievements, whether that be working towards our goals, learning about something new or just smiling because you’ve done what’s made you happy.

For an extra special bonus gold star, we should do something that pushes you out of your comfort zone.

Some of us may appear to push more than others, but the simplest things can often be neglected, and we should all strive to leave people with a good impression of your true character.

Blending into the background in Senate House Library, tapping away at my keyboard, writing the script for my play AUNTIE: Hackney Gospels.

One of the biggest indicators that we’re growing as individuals is if we regularly encounter things that make us anxious, nervous and worried about failure.

And one of the most satisfying but frustrating things in life is when we overcome one of those niggling, debilitating fears and make them everyday; ordinary. The frustrating part comes when other people in turn normalise what you’re doing, and the initial optimism and exciting uncertainty dissipate. You’re now expected to do extraordinary things that were once pie in the sky.

For me, having been a terminal show off from birth, I never even considered the possibility that at 22, I would be writing, producing and performing a one man show for the Camden and Edinburgh Fringes.

I hadn’t even heard of the Fringe festival!

The feeling of overwhelming exhaustion from endless emails to endless theatres, reviewers, agents and anyone else I could possibly contact to come to my show, many of whom do not reply, endless elevator pitches to people I meet, producing my own flyers and posters, putting up said flyers and posters, maintaining a presence on social media before the play has even been written leaves is the unglamorous reality of pursuing one’s dreams.

The people who aren’t doing what you’re doing are hardly sympathetic as they have no experience of it and think you’re having a great time, and the people who are doing it have no sympathy because they’re all going through the same slog.

Moral of the story?

“Anything worth having ain’t easy to get!”

One of my many New Year’s Resolutions (among passing my first year at university, becoming really good at makeup and painting my nails, writing a fabulous show, getting into fashion shows, blogging more, learning Portuguese and being more of a general high achiever et cetera et cetera) was to begin to appreciate the world of art. The image of elitism surrounding art, kindly diffused to us through television shows we watch and the magazines we read, kept my passion at bay. My little sitcom bubble of fantasy was walking into gallery private views, glass of champagne in hand, able to impress anyone who listens with my self-taught knowledge of [insert name of art movement/artist.]

Verdict?

I’m getting there.

Part of the Utopia exhibition at Somerset House, asking members of the public to give their thoughts on how London could be improved to become more like the elusive Utopian ideal.

 

The delightful Jasbir and a mutual friend of ours at a spoken word and musical performance night in Brixton! I sang for the first time in front of a crowd of people, conquering a fear that affects many of us. Turns out I share further mutual friends with this lovely chappy, friend in question being Shona Mercy, whom I met one night in Liverpool. She introduced me to a taster of the London worlds I would flirt with but later realise were not the right worlds for me. Remember those helpers in life! 

 

 

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