What am I doing?

Thursday 30th September 2010 2:30pm. Classical studies and geography internals untouched. I've opened up about fifty windows(an exaggeration) on my computer. I'm staring blankly at the screen hoping a little white bunny dressed in a suit will suddenly pop up and  take me to Wonderland. Then, I'll drink tea with the Red Queen and laze around with the Cheshire Cat.

I've been watching too many movies lately. First I was flying away in Howl's moving castle, then I was following the yellow brick road with Dorothy. What will I do next? Will I travel to space with Wall-E or hook up with Christian in the Moulin Rouge?

Right now you are probably thinking, why isn't she writing some melodramatic poignant article like she usually does? Although I've never had more than a teaspoon of alcohol in my life, I'm drunk. Drunk from having to stay indoors all day because of the weather, drunk when I saw the price of airfares to Taiwan this Summer. My mind refuses to think anymore. The less I think, the more bliss I feel. I guess that's why alcohol is so addictive these days. It blocks out all of the pain life throws at you. By all means I'm not encouraging you to grab a bottle of vodka and pour it down your throat. Actually, whatever, you can if you want to.

I'm going to doze off now on a cushion of clouds. Hopefully I'll have some sense knocked into me when I wake up. But for now, tut tut. Goodnight my sweet...

One more week of holidays...please?

While writing this I am dreading the thought of returning to school tomorrow. School means waking up at six in the morning just to get a spot near the heater in the library. The only excitable concept about going back to school is I get to see my friends again. Apart from that, I feel like school is like a status labellar. Firstly there are there the super smart kids who are destined for a bright and prosperous future. Then, the populars who are unfairly bright and beautiful. Then...okay, my school is not that stereotypical. But from time to time I do feel like some kids get all the luck. They have good looks, smart, happy family life, wealthy background and have a well paid part-time job. The teachers praise them for their excellent work results while people like me hang around until the last minute of each class waiting to ask the teacher for feedback, only to be self reminded that I will never be able to produce work as erudite as some other people because they are naturally smart.

I hate the concept of school because it makes you believe that you can't succeed without an education. If you are not naturally smart you are only average. The word average always hits a sensitive soft on my heart. If you are average you are just another fish swimming in the large blue ocean. No power, no status. I'm being rather hypocritical here. I want an education. Not because I necessarily believe in it, but because I want to finish what I have started and slaved over for the last twelve years of my life. One day when I live my own life I will probably have forgotten the things I once learned as a sixth former in high school. Because you forget things that don't mean anything to you. However, high school encounterings like the friends I've made and the life experiences I've gained mean I will possibly still remember. I wish I can start liking late nights of study and early mornings in the life. Perhaps one day I will miss these days of youth. But until then...can I have one more week of the holidays...please?

Seventeen candles

On the second of July this year, I turned seventeen. Ten years ago, I thought twelve was a big number to reach, seventeen was unthinkably far away. Sweet seventeen represents the start of a new era in my life. Not a child but not yet an adult. The days pass quickly as we grow older, the candles on the cake keep on increasing. Soon, there will not be enough room to fit all of the candles. That's how many years I've been in this world. Although we think time passes slowly. Counting the seconds, minutes in each day, it seems it will be a lifetime before we reach a year. Yet, I've counted seventeen of those years in my short life.

Looking at my Mum, a woman who is nearly forty still dancing around happily in the room. Noticing at her current activity you 'd think she is a little kid waiting to count every star in the night sky. She represents the sole concept that age is but a number. Although we have no control over the effect time has on our bodies, we do have control on how time affects our minds. We age when we choose to age. For some people, that time is never.

Blowing out the candles on my black forest cake while being surrounded by my family and friends reminds me of how beautiful yet short life is. There are the times where the world is dark and hopeless but there are also the moments where candles shine their brightest. Sweet seventeen. Seventeen brightly lit candles creating dim reflections on the living room wall. My friends hint that I'm becoming an old lady. Yes, in some sense I am not getting any younger. I can't tie a string around time and hide it away in my closet so I can stay seventeen forever. But I can choose what to do with the time God has given me. I know that no matter how many candles that will be added to my cake in the years to come, I'll remain a kid at heart.

A really short post

I remember reading this beautiful page on the social website Facebook. It went like this: 'As we grow up, we don't lose friends. We just learn who our real ones are.' The saying is so inevitably true. As children, we accept almost anyone into our lives, but as we grow older, we make much more careful judgements. This is due to our newfound insecurity. Suddenly, the things that didn't matter as children means everything to an adult. Naivety is the secret to happiness, but we lose it while growing up. Curiosity really does make things more complicated.

Missing the good old days

I can't believe it's already June! It feels like the New Year only began yesterday! I'm so busy lately, I miss blogging. If I had a bigger say in my life, I'd be blogging everyday. But thanks to all of the essays I have to write at school, my ideas have run out. This is an english profile I wrote in English. It's not my best piece of work but it's a remembrance of what I've done in high school.

Dramatically humble

Actors are usually portrayed as loud, flamboyant and outgoing. Surprisingly, Jackson is exactly the opposite. Perched on a red leather sofa dressed in army pants and a black t-shirt, Jackson acknowledges me with a friendly nod. He makes no exaggerated movements as he stands up to greet me. Instead, he gives my hand a gentle shake and quietly returns to his seat. Not the first impression you’d expect from an accomplished actor.

Born with a modest nature, Jackson never dreamed of being in the spotlight. It was only after watching Marlon Brando’s moving performance as Don Vito Corleone in The Godfather at the age of twelve that Jackson decided he wanted to become an actor. However, the road to where he is today hasn’t always been very smooth. Five years ago, after finishing high school, Jackson auditioned to study acting at the National Academy of Singing and Dramatic Art in Christchurch. He was not accepted after being told by a teacher that he did not have the talent to make it in the acting industry. This was not Jackson’s first time facing rejection as an actor but it was the first time his acting had been so heavily criticized. It served as a huge blow to his self-esteem. During the weeks that followed, he contemplated quitting acting. “The rejection wasn’t so bad, it was being told I wasn’t good enough that really hurt. I thought, maybe it was time to try something new.” But Jackson’s love for acting refused to let him surrender so he auditioned for places at other drama schools in New Zealand. His determination eventually paid off when a he was awarded a three year course to study at the prestigious New Zealand College of performing Arts

Those three years of training at the New Zealand College of Performing Arts have been extremely worthwhile for Jackson. Currently, he is acting in the NZ band P Money and Milan’s new music video 'Fallen’. The filming often involves more than twelve hours of rehearsal. “Acting for the video is a lot of work but seeing it all come together is amazing,” he tells me. Endless hours of rehearsals, training and commitment have established Jackson a name in the NZ film industry. His talent, determination and down to earth nature have been recognized by various casting directors and as a result Jackson has been cast in over twenty five productions including the 2008 film ‘Under Control’ and the current Pacific Blue commercial. When asked how he feels about his achievements, he simply shrugs, “they’re all really cool, I just try and have fun at the same time.”

It is no surprise that Jackson is one of the most sought-after actors in NZ. His acting profile extends all the way to Los Angeles where he was cast in the film ‘Raven’ alongside actress Dee Wallace and where he also trained in drama under legendary acting coach Aaron Speiser. Yet far from following in the footsteps of New Zealand born actors Martin Henderson and Anna Pacquin who make America their base, Jackson will continue to purse his career in New Zealand. “Los Angeles was an amazing experience for me, I learned so much about acting I did not know before, but NZ is ultimately where my heart is, where I want to be.”

Describing himself as a “typical kiwi,” Jackson is one of the most unassuming and down to earth people you will ever meet. When he was cast as the lead in a feature film, his family did not know about it until they saw it on television. When they pelted him with questions, he answered with a shrug, “I didn’t know they showed it on TV this morning.” Jackson’s casual reaction shows that the achievement didn’t affect him as a person. He still retained his humanity.

For Jackson, acting has been a defining feature of his life since he was twelve and is something he is planning to pursue for the rest of his life. “I love being on set with the whole team around you. I love being in the moment.” But he comprehends acting does not always provide a stable source of income. “Of course I have a backup plan if the industry closes down on me. I’m not in it for the fame or fortune. I feel wealthy just being able to do what I love.” Modest words.

Jackson’s talent, determination and humanity make him a great person as well as an amazing actor. More than just his love for acting, Jackson wishes to act as a role model for budding New Zealand actors. “New Zealand has such a great range of incredible actors. I hope my accomplishments will encourage other actors to continue pursuing their dreams.” Jackson’s humanity here is highlighted by his genuine care towards other actors.

As our interview draws to a closure, Jackson rises from his seat to shake my hand. This time his grip is firmer, more confident. Before I depart, he adds with a slight smile, “I’m not a great actor. I’m just a bloke who loves to act.”

What a humble guy!

Winters night

The whole world seemed dark and foreboding underneath the winter sky. Naked trees swayed around in the chilly breeze welcoming the gentle falling of white petals, slowly reaching the stone pathway. The large silvery moon hid itself among the clouds, overpowered by the darkness. The entire world was silent.

Gazing out from the stained glass window was a little girl dressed in layers of unnecessary clothing. Her pale emaciated figure suggested an ill little girl wishing to be outside, outside where winter was at its fullest. A little statue perched on top of a rich red leather sofa, a diminutive sculpture, wishing to be alive and free from the safe and comforting presence of her home.

Tiny footsteps formed on the supple layers of pallid snow. She had done it, she had escaped. The girl beamed at the familiar images of a typical winter’s night, illustrations she had only ever seen through her window were now tangible and real. The trees parted to form a path for the tiny figure, introducing her to the beauty of winter, for the first time in eight years.

The girl glanced back at her now abandoned house. The old brick walls and red roof of her house now looked indistinct and unfamiliar. The girl ripped off her little red petticoat, throwing it up into the darkness of winter. She danced into the mysterious depth of her newfound freedom and was swallowed by the winters night.

All that jazz

We flip carelessly through piles of clothing
scattered across the rainbow Persian rug
gazing at ourselves in the mirror
screaming with delight at our unfamiliar reflections.

We rummage among the mess
the jacket tumbles down to your knees
I stumble and trip in Mummy’s synthetic leather heels
her precious Victorian style sunhat hides my face.

Long golden curls clash with your tuxedo,
this silver singlet reveals too much skin on me
but we’re five years young so we don’t notice.

The silk shirt sleeves dangle past my waist
matched with a gypsy skirt that I slip on
muddy footprints stamped on the delicate flower patterns
I wipe it hastily against the newly spread bed sheets.

I’m sure Mummy won’t mind.

When you change into a velvet green nightgown
you look like a little Russian porcelain doll
so pale and so perfect.

The velvet eases gently off your smooth white skin
I change out of the artificial fur jacket six sizes too big.
The floor a whirlpool of fabrics
then we change back to our shirts and shorts.