Exactly where I am meant to be.

It seems that occasionally in life you will find yourself doing exactly what you want to do. It might come after a long period of hard work without reward, only to be happening kind of randomly and in a way that has nothing to do with your hard work. It might be fleeting. In fact, it will almost always be fleeting. It will feel like a dream, a dream that you are trying to remember all the details of, a dream that will revisit you in the future and make you ask "gosh, did that really happen?"

The best piece of advice I ever got about acting was that every job you ever do is the most important job you will ever do. I have come to believe that is true. Mostly because each job can be short and after a long time of absolutely nothing. But also because it is so precious, even as the smallest parts, the lowest pay, the smallest productions. 

I am so lucky. When I stand on a stage, or in front of a camera, all I can think is "God, this is it. This is exactly what I am meant to be doing." And it is wonderful, and it is like a dream, and I hope I can keep doing it for a long time to come in any form or shape that it might take. 

Boiling Point

I watched Boiling Point last night. It’s a British indie so my boyfriend and I had to traipse into central London for a 9:30 PM viewing at a Curzon cinema. I was knackered. 

It was the most worth while cinema trip I have ever made. It is all done in a genuine single take. 95 minutes inside a small restaurant, in and out of the kitchen, out into the back, into the toilets, along the narrow bar. A busy night for a new restaurant, every character is, as the title suggests, at boiling point. It was like watching a dance. Despite the high levels of stress throughout the film, I wanted to stay in the world. 

It was so clearly such a beautiful team effort. Every performance was stunning, the writing was seamless, the atmosphere was real. I wanted to cry at the end for several reasons, some that I won’t spoil, but a lot of it was because it seemed like I had just witnessed the hard, incredible work of a lot of people. 

What’s the reason for making a film? Not least a film that won’t make millions, that won’t necessarily even reach an audience of millions. I’m not sure. But for me this film demonstrated the giddy, intense joy of creating a story and telling it well. 

And it was also a film about the innate goodness of people. That people are not evil or bad, but when they do stupid or harmful things it comes from a place of fear, pressure and vulnerability. I enjoyed a character getting a talking to until we followed her into the toilets to hear her cry. And then I wanted to cry with her. Because she wasn’t bad, just scared, misguided, alone. 

Life, even in its most intense, awful parts, can be light and funny. Even if that lightness is fleeting, it still weaves in and out of us like a sharp breath of relief. Boiling Point depicted this beautifully. 

I’m not going to tell you to go and see this film, I just wanted to share the joy I felt from watching it. My heart was in my mouth the whole time. But it was brilliant. It was people being really, really good at what they do and it felt like a privilege to have witnessed it. 

New year, new me.

I am going to write this post about the New Year. About the love I found in the old one. The things I learnt and gained and lost. Although really I was lucky, I felt that not much was lost at all. Lucky to have lived a year free from grief. I worry now as I write this that I am jinxing myself. But that’s not how life works. Life just happens. Grief will always come, but not because you taunted it with things going well. 

I started the new year singing an unexpected karaoke round of “shuddup of ya face” in my lounge with my parents and friends.

I then woke up the next morning and couldn’t walk 2 yards without needing to lie on the floor very, very still. 

In the week since I’ve done all the things one does in the new year to commemorate a healthier, better life. I haven’t touched any alcohol, I’ve eaten a whole load of vegetables, I’ve been to the gym. I’ve written things, I’ve applied to stuff. I pulled myself together after losing half of a submission I’d spend 2 hours on. Not before crying in a cafe Nero whilst my boyfriend tried to console me. 

And I feel good. The sun is shining today, and we plough into the new year as fast as we left the old one. I am ready for all the excitement and adventures, unpredictable and surprising in their nature, that lay before me. Here’s to the textured, beautiful, wild future.