Dramatic Endeavours

I recently saw a fantastic page on Buzzfeed (a massively addictive site) that featured 21 pieces of art that captured part of what it means to have depression. All of the pictures were brilliant in their own way and there were a couple referencing the effects of depression I could relate to very well. There were also several that depicted the reactions people with depression have come across from other people. As I have posted before about the stigma and difficulty of sharing the mental health issues one has with others, about how often one is treated as though they are being over-dramatic, I have chosen artwork capturing that to post here. However, all 21 images are well worth looking at (here: http://www.buzzfeed.com/hnigatu/comics-that-capture-the-frustrations-of-depression) and I recommend you do check them out. By Moose Kleenex. More artwork here: http://moosekleenex.tumblr.com/ By B. Patrick, more artwork here: http://www.akimbocomics.com/ By Susie...

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about what constitutes growing up. Partly this is because I am starting to stand on my own two feet and become responsible for myself as a graduate, partly it is because I saw one of the best (if not the best) stage production I have ever seen last week, Peter and Alice by John Logan, and partly because the production my own theatre company is putting on, Bridge to An Island , also explores in part the moments that we let go of childhood and fantasies. But it is also because of what I have observed in the past year.  As Miranda Hart says in one episode of Miranda , ‘You might call me a child, good. For if adults had even the slightest ‘in the moment joy’ of a child, then frankly the world would be a better place.’ I agree with her, though I suggest she sees adults and grown ups as two different things. I believe that there should be a difference from being termed as an adult and as a grown up. I think you can be an adult without being ...

I am frustrated at my life. I shouldn’t be, it’s not that bad. But I am. And I blame American TV. I want what they show. Always have. Those wonderful moments when everybody dances to a folky, country-esque hopeful happy song that in reality a group of people would never dance to because people never dance to anything but loud aggressively happy plastic music designed for optimum modern-day-mating-ritual-esque pulling moments. But on TV, in America, apparently, a group of friends will gather after a momentous occasion in their collective life and dance, cutting to them all hugging and walking into a sunset. I wanted those moments. Or the ones when everybody is sitting together in a perfectly photographical formation while they all appreciate each other, again with a pretty folky song, getting louder and louder. Or a montage. Montages cut out all the rubbish we actually have to deal with and paste together the happiest or saddest most meaningful moments and make us feel frustrated a...

Six months ago I received my degree and graduated. Since then I haven’t posted on here. Why exactly I can’t say because technically nothing has stopped me. In fact for a while, I had more than enough time to write a novel to envy the length of war and peace. But of course writing requires more than time, so much more. Graduating isn’t easy. They tell you it won’t be. But they never said it would be quite as hard as it was quite as early on. One of my friends summed it up by saying she thought we’d all be too poor to go out drinking but would instead congregate in somebody’s home, together, poor but happy. Whereas the reality was that we were all just miserable, endless job rejections can do that to you and did to me and my friends. Too miserable to consider meeting up to attempt merriness, the non-sober kind or not. I found it horrific. And, in all honesty, still do at points. There is no longer the comfort of terms and structure and support and a net you fall back on. Now it’s ...

Saying goodbye is never easy and, in a way, the more practise you have at it, the worse it gets. As my graduation draws closer, I’ve taken the opportunity to spend as much time with my friends as possible, doing as much as possible and have also used the time to consider just what has made university the adventure it has been. It is, of course, these friends and so this rather rambling post is to say, I guess, why they are so important to me and to thank them for all they’ve done for me, whether or not they realise it. I remember starting university and being told by family friends and my parents that it was just how Evelyn Waugh described it in Brideshead Revisited through advice given to Charles by his cousin, ‘You spend half your second year shaking off the undesirable friends you made in your first.’ And that the friends I would make in my first few weeks of university would not be the friends I kept but rather time would lead them to me. Whether or not they were right with ...

So I may or may not, depending on how a course pans out, be back in the city of my university come September/October, employed and working on a theatre project with a friend I’ve directed and been directed by. Exciting! Right now, it really is only in the very early beginnings in that we’re penciling down ideas and gathering ideas. Slowly but surely. If I don’t come back after the summer, it is something I’d like to continue at some point in the future.  It’s going to be about imagination so this small post is to ask you, my lovely reader, about your imagination. What does your imagination give you? Does it matter? Does it help? Would you say imagination and 'pretend' are the same things? I don’t want to bombard people with questions because you might well chose not to answer them (please do though!) and if this project goes ahead I think I’ll post more questions over time. If you do feel like answering any of these questions or say anything at all about your imagin...

Some photos from the beach