Platonic Fires

These days I tend to be on the cusp of meeting someone extraordinary. I'm not talking about romance, that's a discourse that can take a back seat for the time being. I'm talking about friendship. At the beginning of 2014, sometime in the miserable depths of winter, I went to see a play by my friend Vanessa* called 'Love and Other Fictions'. I remember on line just hanging in the air, tangible and real enough for me to grab hold of and turn over in my head. 

'Platonic fires burn just as bright'

This line struck a chord with me that night and I've been learning to improvise around it ever since. Being unattached has enabled me to love my friends more freely than ever before. I have more capacity, more time and more need. This year friends have become family and a safe space amongst the chaos. We go on adventures, we talk long into the night, we recite our favourite poems whilst lying on the carpet, we provide each other with the necessary 5 hugs a day for survival, we suprise, spoil and support each other. At points when I've felt overwhelmed by how absolutely brilliant my friends are, I often wondered how I could possibly meet any more, how I could keep up with everyone the way I would like to. Then another season arrives and my life is flooded with another load of excellent individuals, whose hearts and minds make my soul explode. I've realised that love is not exclusive but inclusive and once my heart was opened to the possibility that everyone I meet might be significant, I started to see love in a whole new light.

A platonic love, the kind that pulls at my heartstrings and is often too extravagant to express. The aches of distance soothed in soft pockets of handwritten letters, from the cobbled streets of Salzburg to the musty grandeur of the New York City Library. The assured Facebook message reply that lets you know that even if someone doesn't want you at 3am, they still care and hold you in their hearts. The bleary eyed breakfasts, the post-party, post-dancing long walk home, rice cakes and peanut butter in the kitchen, spontaneous dinner parties, the hug that comes at just the right moment. My biggest mistake was trying to cure loneliness by falling in love. I cured loneliness by investing in the people that love me and make me better, the platonic fires that often burn brighter and longer than any whirlwind romance. 

*Check out Vanessa Kisuule. She writes some beautiful things. 

Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey

Last night at home together. 

'Tap, tap, tap' on little Bro's door.

'Records and Whiskey?'

'Go on then'

Clatter downstairs, glasses out, ice-star filled, record player set-up, Paradise Valley on, Jack Daniels from the off-licence.

Pour, sip, chat, ponder, sing-along, repeat.

Swap John Mayer for Ella Fitzgerald.

Dad comes home.

Red chair cleared, another glass poured.

Sip, laugh, sing-along, repeat.

Disperse at random intervals.

Things I've Learned/Realised

I found an old journal full of such lists. I got inspired. Here it goes.

1) Invest in the people you want to invest in, not the people you feel that you should.

2) Time with family is priceless. 

3) Working in customer service is good for your soul.

4) Prayer is effective, even if the outcome is not what you expected.

5) The twenties are really, really fun.

6) You have to respect and love your roots, even if you never return to them.

7) Platonic relationships are worth every bit of investment.

8) Worship heals.

9) Reading restores.

10) Mindfulness is a good philosophy.

11) It does NOT matter what people think, do or say. It is not a reflection of who you are.

12) I will never tire of walks along the South Bank.

13) You can never have too many friends if the connections are true. At the same time, don't expect to be able to keep up with all of them all the time.

14) I really like Shakespeare.

15) I really like cooking and feeding people. Eating together round a table - it's powerful.

16) Just because you've labelled something 'family' or 'love' or 'community' doesn't mean it actually is. These three things are fluid and organic; they appear in the most unlikely of places as long as you're always open to the possibility of them.

17) Black coffee really isn't that bad.

18) Reading poetry aloud is a great way to fall asleep peacefully (depending on the poem of course!)

19) I can watch Greta Gerwig films over and over again. Lola Versus in particular.

20) Being able to laugh and work with great people 6 days a week really is success to me.

21) London can be a friendly place.

22) There is no heartache that cannot be softened by musical theatre.

23) I need at least two new bookcases.

24) Just because something is free doesn't mean you should take it (note the squeezy cow stress ball, obscure German literature and broken cameras that litter my room)

25) Wearing all black is the cheapest way to look sophisticated and put together. Although it does make it difficult to get dressed in the dark.

26) Doing one creative thing a week, just for you, keeps you inspired.

27) You might change your mind about things. Sometimes cynicism turns into to enthusiasm. 

28) Everywhere is transient, the place you call 'home' is constantly changing. Don't have a hissy fit when things look different to how you expected, it won't help.

29) I cannot eat chocolate anymore. SAD FACE.

30) To quote the guru in Eat, Pray, Love: 'I'm smiling in my liver' 

Names

Let's have a chat. I want to talk to you about something that I've noticed in myself and others recently. It's quite simple, perhaps it might even seem irrelevant, perhaps it doesn't impact your life at all, but bare with.   I want to talk about names, about the identities we take on because of the way that people speak to or treat us. It probably needs more space than the average blog post, so forgive me if it comes across as brief. 

Here's the thing; we let people name us all the time. We seek affirmation from a source that is, by definition, subjective. We are so quick to put ourselves above or below people in the social pecking order, we cradle criticisms and carry them on our backs because we think that's what success looks like. We take on other people's expectations and let them define us. Sometimes these things are not in themselves a bad thing. No one wants to be nameless and sometimes people have a name for us that fits and resonates with who we are at our very core. It's about choosing to listen to the right people. I don't know what that looks like for you, maybe the expectations of your parents sit right with you, maybe they don't, maybe the words your other half say over you seem to fit, maybe they don't, perhaps you have a friend who has spoken a new name out of nowhere that has sparked something wild inside your heart, perhaps not. But let me make something very clear; you shouldn't allow your worth to be tangled up in the words or actions of people that have hurt you. Parents that abandon or criticise consistently, friends that are flakey and dishonest, teachers, bosses and mentors that exploit, ex-boyfriend and girlfriends have absolutely NO impact on your worth or your identity.

I have carried so many names. When friends and social groups pulled away, I called myself pariah, when people criticised, I called myself unworthy, when love failed, I called myself unloveable, when christians stopped caring, I called myself unholy and unworthy, when I was ignored, I called myself boring, when I was rejected, I called myself fat and ugly and so on and so on and so on. I took these names and made the wounds deeper. It made me unkind, it made me hold back friendship, trust and encouragement. It made me so bitter and unhappy and I wanted to make sure everyone around me could feel the pain that I was feeling. Then one day I'd just had enough. I realised that I was just as responsible for this pain as the people that caused it in the first place. Forgiveness is the easy part (although it's definitely not easy!). Letting go of the names is the hardest. Everyday I have to realign my thoughts with the truth and I guess my 'truth' relates directly with my faith in God. God says that I am enough, that I am created with a purpose, that I am worthy of love and worthy of joy. I guess what I'm trying to get at is that we are not obliged to take on the names that others give us, we can choose whether their words or their actions have an impact on us. It takes practice and I'm by no means perfect at it, but let me encourage you to always realign yourself with the truth. A good marker is: Love your neighbour as your love yourself. As Don Miller says ' I would never talk to my neighbor the way I talked to myself...somehow I had come to believe it was wrong to kick other people around but it was okay to do it to myself' I promise you that if we live our lives from an identity rooted in truth and names that resonate with who we ACTUALLY are, then the world will become a much brighter place. 

The Stay-cation

There's something about breakfast in bed that makes an ordinary day feel spectacular. Even if there's no one to bring it up for you, it's still a cosy feeling to wander downstairs make some yummy eggs and then bring them back to your mess of blankets and books. I was supposed to be in Paris last weekend but unfortunately my plans fell through. Instead, I set about making being at home as special as possible. I put some film into my camera, spent a few days in London wandering around the galleries, bought some sharp pencils to write with, had a coffee in Santa Fe, wrote letters, devoured novels in a duvet cocoon and went for a photowalk in the woods. Sometimes being at home is enough. It's not Paris, but it's more than enough. 

Mondays

People are so anti-Mondays, myself included, and yet I've been growing fonder of them recently. Sometimes it's because I dread a weekend full of empty hours; I find it hard to wind-down, it can give me too much time to dwell on things, it can paralyse me with choice (like what book to read, what film to watch) and sometimes, when no one's around to make plans with, it just makes me feel alone. Monday is a chance to start it all up again, to approach life with a new vision, a clean slate. Monday means another week full of people, full of work that I love, full of opportunities to learn. Yes, it's cliche, yes it's slightly idealistic but Mondays are never going to leave us, so we might as well make a choice to enjoy them. My boss in Berlin used to make Mondays her 'vision day', she'd spend time thinking about the long-term goals of her business and consider how she might go about putting ideas into action. I think a lot of us do this without thinking, I certainly did it a lot as a student - a 'to-do' list for the week. But it's not always about work, we often start diets and fitness regimes on a Monday, so why can't we put in other changes? I try to spend a few moments on a Monday reminding myself of the where, the what and the why. I deliberately get everything ready on a Sunday evening in order that Monday can be a slow and restful start. It keeps me thankful and focused. Monday is the chance to put into practice, what the weekend has taught us. 

How will you make the most of yours?!

South Bank

A few shots from London when I went to meet up with Brynne a few weeks ago (do you guys remember here from Florence?) The light was perfect, so I could forgive the cold. This is my standard walk around London because it's close to Waterloo. It has a bustling familiarity to it, I always stand on the bridge and look out towards St. Pauls, I always run my fingers across the spines of the books on the stalls outside the BFI, I always pop to the National Theatre in case I feel like watching something or in case there's a book I need or in case I need a wee, I get frustrated by the tourists, soothed by the sky, enticed by the smell of mexican food and comforted by the sense of homecoming. However, I think I'd like to branch out from the South Bank and do more walking around London. Going for walks is quickly becoming one of my favourite things, it puts life in perspective, forces you to appreciate the quiet (or loud) beauty of your surroundings and it's good exercise. Despite my last post, Spring seems to be holding back the warmer weather, it's getting a bit desperate now. COME ON SUN!

Coffee Diary: Roasted Rituals

 It's been a while and you're all probably desperate for some new coffee places. Seeing as it's nearly Spring and you're not necessarily going to want to sit inside to drink your coffee, this place is perfect. Saying that, I've been visiting all winter so really it's an all-year round kinda place. Now, brace yourselves because I have a huge statement to make. I think I might have found the best Flat White in Bristol. No seriously, Roasted Rituals is the real deal. You can find it just off Apsley Road and it clearly already has it's loyal customers. It's run by Kiwis who are clearly very passionate about their brew, they have their own roast, a drip filter option and proudly sport a South West Coffee Guide. The other thing that makes this place super special is the price - £1.50 for any black coffee and £2 for any white coffee. Such a bargain! Even more of a bargain when you think that a Flat White at Starbucks in now 2.50 (2.70 if you want to have their origin espresso, which improves the taste considerably) There is a perfect coffee, milk ratio. Even at the top you can taste the richness of the coffee and the flat-white silky milk foam is so consistent, it's hard to believe such perfection exists.  I've popped down to the van when I've had a break from rehearsals and it's so relaxing to just sit sipping my cup of joe, listening to a podcast, watching the world go by and getting out of the crazy theatre world for half an hour or so. This place is HIGHLY recommended, perfect for a pit stop or an outside coffee date. Definitely go check it out!

SPRING

 It always captivates me how the seasons manifest themselves physically. After months of dark, cold, winter mornings, you step outside and the sun is warm. Warm enough to soothe your skin, bright enough to adjust your gaze. Bristol stops being 50 shades of grey and the sandstone starts to reflect the colour of the sky. Blossom surprises at street corners and daffodils sneak out of the ground. All of a sudden, everything's looking up again. The cynicism, loneliness and isolation of winter, that you didn't realise you were carrying around inside, starts to dissolve and you can't help but exclaim 'it's March! It's March!' to all your friends. 

MA

In the final episode of Gilmore Girls, Rory Gilmore is about to leave home to embark on her dream job. As she's about to leave the house to catch the early morning bus, her mother Lorelai asks her whether she's got everything. She replies 'Mom, you've given me everything I need.' When I think about my Ma, I always think about that moment. She really has given me everything I need, managing to find the perfect tension between tough-love and indulgence. 

Today is her birthday. She's 52, that might not seem particularly significant, but trust me it really is. Today marks an answered prayer for more time. Ten years ago I was made painfully aware of how finite her life might be. From then on every moment was precious, every argument more devastating because it felt like a waste. We never shy away from the pain of her disability, but we refuse to let it define her. Being your mother's carer is tough but a privilege - vulnerability is inevitable and with it a strong and irrevocable bond.   She has been there for moments I thought I might have to experience alone. In the decade of time we've been given there have been countless moments of significance: afternoon coffees, middle of the night tears, momentous drives to Bristol, evenings out in London, raw conversations, sofas full of laughter, graduation, prom, boyfriends, year abroads, good news, bad news, banana bread comforts and a rather ridiculous amount of tea. She's vetoed all my important outfits, thrown me the best birthday and coming-home parties, sent me care-packages, held me close when my heart was broken, taken me to the doctor when things got too much, told me when I'm being selfish and arrogant, re-decorated and re-organised my room after a year full of pain and challenge, re-packed every suitcase I've ever packed from home, introduced me to some excellent films and encouraged me more than anyone else in my pursuit of a career as an actor. 

On the night before I returned to Bristol to start at the Old Vic, my restlessness found me curling up on her bed and falling asleep, just like the old times. Even now she is my anchor,  as well as my friend, my critic, my role-model and my darling mother all at once. I am so very thankful that she still exists and that I get to spend EVEN MORE of my life around her.

Happy Birthday MA!

Actors

Sometimes I wish I could always carry my DSLR or SLR around with me so that I could take better quality photos. However, there is something quite charming about the grainy quality of a phone camera. These photos are honest (if occasionally posed) snapshots of drama school life. Actors off duty. The essence of my new friends. I'm so aware of the transience of this time and this place. The building is just an empty shell, it's the people that give it shape with their lively bodies and colourful personalities. That's why I'm constantly snapping away, making sure that the fun, the weird and the lovely doesn't go un-noticed. I think one of the biggest challenges that drama school has lumped me with, is the courage and confidence to identify myself as an actor. It's difficult to move forward if you cannot embrace what other people see in you. So I call these people actors, because they are enormously talented and I love to marvel at their work. Their interpretation of life is, as with everyone, entirely unique. I see them as artists and I seem them as successes, I value them as colleagues and I cherish them as friends. It is a glorious privilege to spend such an all-consuming amount of time with every single one of them; supporting and collaborating.  The moments we share are hard to articulate, it's a surreal bubble of frenzied activity, but these photos are a evidence of stillness, of time away from the grind of work. A reminder that actors need to switch off and be human.