‘Tis the season, no, not that season (quite yet), but another season: An ode to autumn

This is from my 2011 scrapbook! I know right! Original images. Don't get used to it.
This is from my 2011 scrapbook! I know right! An original image. Don’t get used to it.

Happy Fireworks night. I don’t feel so firework-y tonight (long, heartfelt sigh), I’m just gonna have a huge bowl of spaghetti and read a book. I wrote this at the start of October but it’s been laying dormant until now – so sorry if it’s already a little outdated. Like, if this post was a fresh leaf when it was written in late-September, early-October, it’ll now be a mushed-up, rained-on mixture of pulp and chewing gum mashed into some pavement somewhere. Such is life. 

Look – I don’t know if it’s anything to do with the fact that both my parents were born within a week of each other at the crossover of September into October, so it’s ingrained into my DNA make-up or whatever; perhaps I’m overly sentimental for things like transitions and change and every other darned thing a writer can get sentimental about (SPOILER: everything)

Maybe it’s the familiarisation of routine that sets back in after a long summer: early nights, hearty meals, people bonding miserably over the miserable and changeable weather; maybe I’m a witch, whatever, who even cares – but autumn is my lady.

There is just something about darkness setting in earlier, leaves browning and yellowing and dark purpling, lying dead on the ground; that smell when they get rained on, get dried, and then turn into autumn sludge again. 

This season has more memories for me than any other. In the way that childhood/adolescence is often portrayed in films – hanging out with your friends all summer long, in sepia – I don’t feel as nostalgic about the summer as I do the autumn. (I spent a good few of my summer holidays as a child counting down the days until I could get back to school)

Autumn feels a lot more familiar than other seasons. Autumn and I are friendly to each other. Well, I say friendly. Ms. A.T gives me the gift of big, woollen jumpers, increased portion sizes with every meal (it’s getting colder – I need to be insulated) and this. I mean, I don’t listen to that all the time, although I wish I could say I did – but all I’m saying is autumn provides us with all the tools we need to stay in, get our heads down, and begin to create things. We don’t give it anything, we just sort of walk around in it. But thanks anyway, autumn!

Applying to online courses, looking up university degrees, pitching ideas to magazines. Maybe I link this time of year to being at school, slightly perspiring from the dusty heaters cranked up to 11.  Autumn feels pretty studious – until the clocks go back and you’re all ‘I’ll stay in Dreamland for another six or seven hours, thank you” – but there is a brief changeover period where I feel like getting my head down and getting to it.

I hope this feeling of wanting to begin new things prevails throughout the rest of my life. It’s convenient getting stuck into new projects at the start of the season when there’s stationary deals going on in every store across the world as everyone’s getting geared up for another academic year. 

Once we get into winter, every evening is a prime Netflix and chill time. And I don’t even mean Netflix and chill, I just mean Netflix and chill. Unfortunately.

Autumn, on the other hand, is pretty expectant. Suddenly, I have to face the fact that there is LESS than two months left in the year. The year! Like, Christmas, guys! Again!

And as I have to pretty much dismiss the potential of doing anything at all in the winter (hibernation, impending eternal darkness, Netflix), I always feel so inspired to spend time on my own, reading books I’ve been saving up all summer, scrapbooking everything I’ve been collecting over the last few months, taking time out to check in with myself and make sure I’m set for the long and cold winter (kind of like a squirrel collecting nuts).

As the nights get colder, it becomes way too easy to indulge nightly in mass social media-ing. I’ve recently deleted my Instagram, because although it’s great fun, it was stopping me from getting all my shit done by the time it needed to be.

[EDIT] That other girl that deleted her Instagram this week got loads of attention online, possibly because she was ‘goals’. Although she cried about being ‘goals’, so everyone was all “This girl was goals for her hot bod, now she’s goals for taking a stand on what is becoming a boring and negative daily ritual for many. The girl is just GENERALLY goals.” I deleted my Instagram and NOBODY even noticed. So I’m not goals, but I’ll do.

I thought it was about time to get rid of all those distractions as I work full-time and have so much I want to do in the evenings. The small solo projects I’m working on now may not amount to anything, but it’s not a waste of time. Use these precious autumnal opportunities to their full potential. It may be the compost that’ll turn into that good idea. Stay in for the night, turn your phone off, throw a huge jumper on, and work all the way through to the witching hour. (‘Tis the season, non?) Pritt-sticking, writing, painting, practising cartwheels: Use your time wisely, and get to it.

(Just for the archive, my first play is on in a couple of weeks (16-17 November)! I’ll probably write more about it and the process of writing it soon, when I have a few spare hours. I’m soooo proud of it. Now I just want to get started on something else! A feature film! A fashion line! A symphony!)

having fun isn’t hard when you’ve got a library card – 15/10/14

I am writing from my local library, somewhere I have come to love really too dearly since all of my friends moved away to make it big in bigger cities. Obviously, being a total nerd – quite surprising for those who would see me as a cool, hip young thing with an icy persona, I probably would live in the library – so comforting is it with it’s books, CD’s, DVD’s and internet access. And magazines! You can actually loan out MAGAZINES from the library! I will never have to spend another penny again in my life, which is comforting, as I only have about 14 of those at current.

Caitlin Moran wrote a lovely piece about how libraries are the “Cathedrals of Our Souls” – which is so lovely and true, commenting on the fact that it really is the last places on our high streets where we are still a citizen, rather than a consumer. I also didn’t realise I could use a computer here; obviously I’d seen people on them before but thought maybe that was part of a super deluxe package of being a library member. Alas, here is a free for all. Hooray for libraries!

Meanwhile, I’ve just been back at my former school to return books from THEIR library (a definite recurring theme here today) and was very kindly told since I obviously liked the edition so much (it was a lovely, tatty old version of Le Petit Prince) I could keep it and not pay a fine! Plus my old French teacher signed it for me with the message “meilleur voeux!” Best wishes!

Also, I was told if I wanted to help with the production, I’d need a police check- so am going back for my CRB check tomorrow – l o l x 10000. Is this what adulthood is?

Going to see Gone Girl tonight with Momma. Things are alright, and I think I’m okay at the moment. Began my Gap Year Diploma at Central School on Saturday and it exceeded all expectation- I am very excited to fully commence. Reading everything I possibly can about drama school, and nearly finished my application. Now comes the challenging job of finding suitable audition pieces again………

Sorry that this was such a diary post, but I haven’t had a pen for the last 2 days (only lip liner, and there are tooooo many journal entries in my notebook writing solely in lip liner- and that madness has to stop sometime.)

Write soon,

T A L x

Things what I gone and learned, aged 17

I turn 18 on Friday, and the other night I was gripped by an insatiable need to write (which is so so rare)- where I was lying in bed and then had to get up in order to note some stuff down.

17 is so romanticised, and I’ve tried to emphasise that even further- which goes to say that I’ve had a pretty intense year if anything. I remember watching a video with Mike from Friends, or Paul Rudd as people now know him (after the Clueless revival) where he says your teenager years are irreplaceable because you will feel the happiest you’ve ever felt, the saddest you’ve ever felt, you’ll laugh the most, and cry the most etc, but everything is so blown up and gives a lot of potential for learning, or getting creative, or just thinking about things and sussing them out for yourself.

I remember a few years ago, when I was about 14, I was really concerned that I was too ‘aware’ of being a teenager. It sounds really, really awful and shallow- but I genuinely feared that I didn’t feel like my peers because I couldn’t relate to things that were happening around me at the time (TBH, 2010 was a time when people did those ‘Rate me’ status’, etc) & I really didn’t get it, I just felt really aware that I was trapped in that horrible mid-teen existence, and I was just waiting patiently for it to be over.

My early teen years were ragingly ragingly angsty, in ways you wouldn’t believe, I once wrote a love letter to a crush in red watercolour and then ripped up the paper and ate it!! I was very passionate!! (and still am, but hopefully channel it a little better.)

Early adolescence is awful because you want to change your life so quickly and frequently, & nothing seems right (i.e SHALL I BE THE GIRL THAT WEARS A SINGULAR CLIP IN HER HAIR EVERY DAY? WAIT, NO, DOES THAT MEAN PEOPLE WILL PUT ME IN A BOX???) – but on the other hand you don’t want to change too obviously, so that your auntie will look at you and immediately say OHMYGOD YOU’VE GROWN UP SO MUCH! HAVE YOU STARTED YOUR PERIOD YET?! in front of your mortified dad.

Ways in which you can change your life when you’re 14:

  • Delete your Facebook for a few weeks- people will think you’re really wild.
  • Get a block fringe, write poetry about your newly-found identity, regret block fringe, write poetry about confused identity in relation to new appearance and lack of forehead.

Anyway, as I was saying. I used to try and reject the idea of change too much, because I didn’t want to control my life at a time when all I craved was adventure. I’d listen to an album, and beg for the belief that it’d be playing in my stereo forever, but deep down I’d know that nothing lasts that long and was desperately trying to cling onto these things, which were actually preventing me from trying new stuff. It got pretty cynical, “Oh, all of this stuff won’t be the same next week *mood swings mood swings* what’s the point of trying with anything if it’s likely to be gone when you begin to obsess over the next phase?”

I used to say no to quite a lot, ‘No, I wouldn’t normally do that.’ ‘No, people would think that out of character.’

SPOILER: You know when you were scared of working that singular clip in your hair, lest people put you in a box? Sister, that’s what saying no does too! Saying no puts you in a box. Putting a cool clip in your hair puts you in the coolest gang in the school, and that is what I learnt as a 17 year old. The End.

LOL! Just kidding.

(Please stay with me.) So, for ages, I was pretty bummed out being me-  I had a lot of opinions, all pretty negative, I got exhausted by this, my friends dragged me out of the hole, but I was pretty stressed out for a while because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life (and unfortunately at that time I had no idea how insignificant and unimportant that decision was, and I wish someone at school had told me that, rather than give me a Work to Action list.) Of course, having an idea of what you want to do is really great for some people, but right now I’m happy to not know. Yes. Full stop.

When you get really stressed, heartbroken, rejected, exhausted, burnt-out- it tends to take it’s toll, and that’s when I realised I couldn’t add to the problem myself by using the little energy I had in a negative way.

I began to say ‘Yes’ to things I wouldn’t have done before, which is a great way to find out who you really are, cause you get to have it all, and keep some of it. It’s like saying you only like chocolate cake, and never eating anything else for 17 whole years, but then one day someone suggests you try a carrot, and you do, and your body is like ‘Wow. I really need more of that because Vitamin A is delicious’. Kinda.

So, yes- I’ve come to understand the importance of mindfulness and being present- but certainly the hard way- as 17th year is ALL ABOUT the future, (or that is what they’ll try to tell you.), whereas, in fact it’s about the weekends! DUH!

SPOILER: Sometimes during weekends you can get a bit Yes- happy, and people around you will keep asking you if you’re okay, because they care about you, & even if they can’t understand why you’re doing things you wouldn’t normally, well that’s fine, too. They just love you and want to know you’re doing good.

It’s a total cliche, but you have to really hit bottom for a little while in order to realise that change is ever-evolving and essential to life, and all things must pass, all the bad (YAY) and all the good (boo!) When I was thinking about this stuff the other night, I was reminded about the Buddhist tradition of the sand mandala’s, where they create and destroy sand mandalas as part of a ritual, to represent the transitory nature of life. – Read: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sand_mandala

Ephemeral is a great word,  literally meaning ‘lasting a very short time’ – and sometimes I just say it to remind myself that if you’re feeling shitty, you won’t soon, and if you’re feeling good, you won’t soon- so make the most of it. 17 isn’t forever, but that’s OK. Happy birthday me.

 

It’s not impossible/unfathomable/unusual ~~& *future plans* & a catch up

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Good afternoon! Being off school for the next two weeks, I firmly told myself in the mirror that I must aim to be out of the house by noon each day, and, being 12:03pm as I write, it is nice to be like ‘Fuck you, me!’ It has helped with meal times though, I have been known to wake at half 12, have some breakfast, and then immediately follow it with some lunch because ‘well, it is lunchtime.’

Anyway, things are good! I have 3 days off now with no school or work, and I’ve treated myself by finally emptying my Amazon basket and turning it into a real delivery that will turn up at my doorstep in a couple of days (if I have sufficient funds, fingers crossed.) It wasn’t much anyway, just things I’ve wanted for a while, including Pink Martini’s, ‘Splendor in the Grass’, Godard’s Au Bout De Souffle (which I have literally wanted for over a year) and some iron on patches- great conversation starter, especially with cute boys with floppy hair in pop-up bars.

There is a lot going on at the moment, I’ve decided to take a gap year (an involuntary one, of course, thank you drama school) but no, actually it seems like a really good thing for me right now, and I finally will get to s
ee my beloved Europe- still young, blonde and unaware of danger. This blog might begin to slide towards travel writing/hoping/dreaming etc, I want to go there so exciting and with the highest expectations that I will have to fulfill as a matter of necessity. Yes, I have such a romanticised view of it, which derives from too much teen trash novels- which means I have too much of a romanticised idea of pretty much everything.

I am probably going to Interail it all, and am particularly excited about travelling through Italy, where my dad’s side are from. If anyone’s been through this all before, please get in touch! I want to know the best places to go, eat, drink, dance etc.

This wasn’t supposed to be a post about this, but I guess that is what it’s now become. I really must leave now though,  I have to meet a friend about a little upcycling business we’ve started up (you will no doubt be hearing about this too!)

Write very soon, I promise. (Setting myself up to fail, as per.)

P.s Glastonbury line up half announced, next 3 months have POTENTIAL!!!!!

Tay x

“What makes me sad, won’t make me quit”

I wrote this on the way home from London, after another (failed) audition today. I am typing it up fairly tipsy and pub-bound, so exaggerations probably will be everywhere. (I am writing this after I wrote the things below and now I am quite drunk)

Saturday 18th January 2014~~~

It has been a total rollercoaster of a day, and I felt I had to buy a new notebook and pen because I knew I would want to write on the train journey home. Although I don’t know what exactly.

I do this thing every time I get a rejection from yet another drama school where I walk around Leicester Square/Covent Garden to see that the theatre actually exists outside of stuffy waiting rooms full of hopeful and jittering auditionees. I hit a total slump earlier and nearly cried on the Tube (this is actually a way embarassing situation)- which is ridiculous as my only problem to an outsider is not getting into a highly competitive and prestigious drama school, which is so dumb.

Then I walked across the Waterloo Bridge to go to the National and buy a ticket for the matinee, I was like: I don’t care what the show is! I’m gonna be reckless!- but it was The Light Princess, which is apparently quite shit, so I just moped about in the bookshop for about an hour, recklessly spending £20 on a collection of new plays by Dennis Kelly (which is actually delicious) because I am sick of Sartre and Pinter and old men in black turtlenecks telling me my choice of speech is unusual and ‘So you say you have read around other existentialist playwrights, tell me more???’ **Obviously I only wrote that to appear like I am well-read!! Duh!*

Anyway, so I was sitting at this caff on the South Bank, obviously with a face of death, as this guy approaches me and starts talking to me. At first, I gave him no attention: You are a homeless man, I have no change because I have just spent my last £20 on this ridiculous book (I hadn’t started it yet, it is actually awesome) – please let me be etc. But then I realise he was just telling me to ‘Smile’- and of course you have to force yourself to smile, which is funny in itself, as this stranger is forcing me to do something so I laugh, and he said:

“Fuckinghell I’m homeless, and I’m still smiling!”, and I thought, “Fuckinghell he’s homeless and he’s still smiling!” He went on to say, “Whoever’s made you feel like this, just be like fuck em.” Then he walked off repeating “Do what you want to do, be what you want to be”

God that sounds like such a lie. I could literally write a book about the weird experiences I have with strangers like this AKA guardian angels sent from heaven. Over the past few months I have had a few encounters with these male angels (albeit some dirtier than others), and they’ve all cheered me up or taught me something (even if that is only – when you think you could have another few Jagerbombs, you have already had way too many and it is time to go home.)

After this man walked away, I picked up my new book and started to read it with a fresh mind. Everything that had happened to me this morning suddenly didn’t feel like an end anymore, instead it felt like a new start in the sense where I could say ‘Hey, maybe that particular course genuinely isn’t what I want to do.”

I think my main trouble recently has been trying to do everything, which has meant that I haven’t been able to do anything properly at all. There is no point being like ‘Chill! Everythin’s easy!’ unless you truly believe it, but I think come June, I can start enjoying it all a bit more, rather than going to auditions so unprepared because I had to conjugate millions of French verbs the night before. Anyway, this is not forever. Ephemeral, and all that.

The hardest thing about rejection is being told that you are not good enough at the something you have chosen to be best at. I am coming to accept that this is just going to keep happening again and again, but hopefully my journal entries will get shorter & shorter as I learn how to cope.

As long as I can cling onto the spark, and stop seeing the ‘struggle’ as so much of a struggle, things will have to gradually start heading somewhere, wherever that is. It is not a struggle really at all, it is something that I am quite sure I really want to do, and to just have the chance to try to achieve this is v. exciting.

X

Bye
Bye

The title is optional, but I’m going to take the option

Hello all! I haven’t written in an age, but I’m feeling fresh and zen and kind of like a new person (woah, this REALLY MUST BE A MOOD SWING) so i thought I’d take advantage of this and try and write a post and re-greet my 5 followers!

I’d love to say that I’ve instantly become infatuated with this beautiful, wordy, blogging site, but being a 16 year old with a short attention span who has, since, writing this post been distracted by everything EVERYTHING including the grapes next to me, (grapes are so firm and juicy i love grapes) my dog (isnt he so fluffy) and the telly (did you know the sound of music was the best selling album of the 1960s?? Boss).

Anyway. I’ve been off school for nearly a month (going giddy at the thought of this) and I’ve been having the most wonderful time, doing little revision (I am motivated I am I am….okay yeah i’m not) and kind of just drinking a lot- but having fun, and that is the main thing. In fact, since the Jubilee shenanigans I haven’t really been out or done much- but maybe that’s because my mum has JUST got over her hangover (4 days people) and I kind of had a reality check.

Clothes, lets talk about clothes.

I’ve been reading a lot of magazines of recent (IT KIND OF COUNTS AS REVISING, I WANT TO BE A WRITER- HELLO!??!?!) and sometimes I truly believe that their is little passion, especially in the weeklies. Sex position of the week, Beauty under £5, Best Celebrity Tweets!

Good fun, but do I want to clog my mind with pictures of Tulisa’s cellulite? I just want to read something that will make me feel good about myself- even features in monthlies sometimes make me a bit depressed, such as ‘Is the Internet making us loners?’, ‘Are we living virtual lives?’

Its like c’mon now, show me some Valentino creations so I can sit down with a brew and get lost in this fantasy! I don’t GIVE A SHIT IF PATRICK KIELTY IS GOING OUT WITH CAT DEELEY

(i said I was in a good mood didnt i)

What have I been wearing?

What have I been wanting to wear, (I have mainly been wearing stolen clothes from my friends or just towels. A big towel is nice and so versatile)

With all the Royal stuff, pastel and pleats are in probably, see I dont even know, I’m just a recluse- but this makes me want to be all grunge even more it feels British to not want to wash for a week

This is the dream outfit for summer, not too short, not too LA!!!!!!!!!!!! A bit too chavvy, but definetely how I’m feeling

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I feel like I’ve outstayed my welcome. Please like this, because I genuinely feel like crying with ecstasy when i realise people read this. I’ll give your blog and browse too, we can all make each other’s day.

Remember to keep reading and walking about, watching people, learning. We’re learning every day

GBx