Day Two : The Silence
My first silence of the week was tricky as I was travelling back to university. I woke up next to my boyfriend and was unable to say good morning. Hand gestures worked well in securing a cup of tea but I really wanted to chat to him. As he dropped me at the station I saw a bus which advertised the fact that it stopped at a place/station called "Wheat Pieces". I flapped around trying to point out what was amusing me and eventually he got it but it was so strange not just blurting out my observations (maybe it's good for me)
The train journey was OK but I had to write a note to the woman selling drinks in order to quench my thirst. Thankfully nobody else really spoke to me.
Once in London the pace picked up a bit. A man at one of the tube stations caught me off guard and asked me if I was standing in a queue. As I opened my mouth to answer I remembered the silence and changed the noise coming out of my mouth to "Noaaagghhhhh", which startled said man. I then ran away.
I returned home safely but then as my housemates all arrived back I had to point at my mouth to remind them why I wasn't talking. Waiting hours to ask my friends all about their holidays was tough but that's the name of the game really. The woman whose testimony I posted a link to (in the previous post) didn't get to speak to her own daughter for years.
When I finished the silence I was eager to talk to everyone and anyone who would listen!
First day - no mess ups :-)
Emzikles xxx
Sunday 25 April 2010
Wednesday 21 April 2010
Charity Fundraising Week
Day One: The Fast
Yesterday was the first day of my fundraising week. It was the first of four twelve hour daytime fasts that I have to complete this week and it was terribly frustrating. I woke up at 6.20am to prepare my pre-fast meal: two boiled eggs and a slice of wholegrain toast with butter, washed down with a glass of orange juice and a multivitamin tablet. At that time in the morning my appetite was painfully absent but I kept in mind the advice I had been given about eating protein and fats before the fast began. It made sense. Then, at 7am, the fast began. For the first three hours I didn’t feel very hungry but on the approach to lunchtime my brain began making suggestions about what to have for lunch! Every half hour it sparked up with another food that it fancied and, in normal circumstances, this would have resulted in the absent minded consumption of said food but under the constraints of the fast I felt only a pang of disappointment. The freedom to choose what I wanted to do (snack in front of the television) and when (during Jeremy Kyle) was restricted and it made me feel frustrated. There is no tangible comparison with the experiences of those asylum seekers detained in centres around the UK but perhaps the feeling of frustration and the inability to answer to the needs of one’s body are things that detainees in places like Yarlswood will feel at some point during their “stay”. From two o’clock until five o’clock my stomach growled at me and then nausea set in. At about six o’clock I could no longer feel the hunger but when it came to half past I was in the kitchen cooking up a feast. I broke the fast with a bowl of mozzarella and tomato topped gnocchi, some popcorn and some much craved chocolate. After my initial elation I began to feel a bit deflated. At the end of the day I had very easily rustled up a meal and indulged in some treats but I really appreciated the fact that so many people couldn’t have done that.
I have attached the link to a testimony from an asylum seeker whose experiences here in the UK are eye-opening and disturbing. Please read her words:
http://www.testimonyproject.org/node/170
Cynical England has to stop dismissing the pleas of asylum seekers by claiming that they are somehow not credible.
Emma.
Yesterday was the first day of my fundraising week. It was the first of four twelve hour daytime fasts that I have to complete this week and it was terribly frustrating. I woke up at 6.20am to prepare my pre-fast meal: two boiled eggs and a slice of wholegrain toast with butter, washed down with a glass of orange juice and a multivitamin tablet. At that time in the morning my appetite was painfully absent but I kept in mind the advice I had been given about eating protein and fats before the fast began. It made sense. Then, at 7am, the fast began. For the first three hours I didn’t feel very hungry but on the approach to lunchtime my brain began making suggestions about what to have for lunch! Every half hour it sparked up with another food that it fancied and, in normal circumstances, this would have resulted in the absent minded consumption of said food but under the constraints of the fast I felt only a pang of disappointment. The freedom to choose what I wanted to do (snack in front of the television) and when (during Jeremy Kyle) was restricted and it made me feel frustrated. There is no tangible comparison with the experiences of those asylum seekers detained in centres around the UK but perhaps the feeling of frustration and the inability to answer to the needs of one’s body are things that detainees in places like Yarlswood will feel at some point during their “stay”. From two o’clock until five o’clock my stomach growled at me and then nausea set in. At about six o’clock I could no longer feel the hunger but when it came to half past I was in the kitchen cooking up a feast. I broke the fast with a bowl of mozzarella and tomato topped gnocchi, some popcorn and some much craved chocolate. After my initial elation I began to feel a bit deflated. At the end of the day I had very easily rustled up a meal and indulged in some treats but I really appreciated the fact that so many people couldn’t have done that.
I have attached the link to a testimony from an asylum seeker whose experiences here in the UK are eye-opening and disturbing. Please read her words:
http://www.testimonyproject.org/node/170
Cynical England has to stop dismissing the pleas of asylum seekers by claiming that they are somehow not credible.
Emma.
Wednesday 7 April 2010
Modelling Agency Test Shoot
Hey guys,
I just realised that I had promised an update about my encounter with one of London's fashion agencies (albiet not a very high profile one) so here it is. Sorry it's a little late.
About a month ago I saw an advert on Gumtree for new faces at a London based modelling agency (that I probaby shouldn't name). The advert said that height wasn't an issue and so I thought I had nothing to lose by giving it a shot. I sent through a couple of my previous photos, which I'm quite proud of (an example is the photograph at the top of my blog) and they offered me an interview. I told a friend about it and she decided to do the same thing so we agreed to go along at the same time for moral support.
I knew that I'd have to do a test shoot (apparently to see how well or not I worked in front of the camera) because I've changed my hair colour since my last photographs were taken. I chose an outfit the day before the interview and flicked through some magazines to get some posing inspiration.
When the day arrived I was pretty nervous. We arrived at the agency building and wandered into the waiting room. The man who would be interviewing us walked in and handed my friend a clipboard with a list of questions to answer (height, hair colour, weight, dress size, type of modelling work sought etc) and then walked out again. I looked across at her, confused. When he walked in again I asked him for my question sheet. He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, you're doing it too?"
I smiled, wincing through the verbal blow and answered happily that I was.
He got me a clipboard and I joked with my friend as I answered the questions, keeping a smile on my face to keep the burning feeling of humiliation at bay. The agency had claimed that it wasn't just looking for the thin tall type who usually model but their reaction when they actually saw a different kind of woman proved otherwise. I looked across at my thin, blonde-haired, amply-breasted companion and realised that they had seen me as the dowdy friend who comes along to provide moral support. As I answered the questions I felt irritated. Blue/green eyes, brunette, perfect ten. I am not ashamed of the way I look nor should I be made to feel that way.
When we were interviewed the clipboard man, who was no Brad Pitt himself, openly flirted with my friend. She gave him her photos and he asked her to select two that the agency could hold on to. She told him, with no flirtatious intent whatsoever, that he could keep all of them if he wanted and he grinned and told her obsequiously that he would love to have them all. Holding in the vomit, I passed over my photographs and relaxed into my chair, mirroring the nonchalence he displayed towards me.
He told us that we would get a few minutes each to pose for some shots and then we would pick five of the best ones to send further up the agency for consideration.
The shoot was a whirlwind and felt very rushed but I tried to keep my experience at hand by constantly saying snippets of advice in my head: "Always look just to the left, right or above the camera", "Never do something that looks unnatural", "Bend anything on your body that will bend - angles are in!"
About three minutes later it was all over and although there were some awful shots (partly the photographer's fault and partly mine) I chose five that I felt at least 60% happy with (in some of the photos I haven't quite found the light - a fair criticism). I still haven't received my favourite shot from that day (my friend loaded them onto her memory stick and has only sent three out of the five to me so far) but I will share one of the full length shots with you.
I know I'm not the tallest or thinnest woman around but does that mean that every type of modelling is off limits for me? It's a question that I would actually love to hear an honest answer to. There's nothing worse than claiming to have a certain ethos but not acting in a way that demonstrates it.
Stay confident,
Emzikles xxx
I just realised that I had promised an update about my encounter with one of London's fashion agencies (albiet not a very high profile one) so here it is. Sorry it's a little late.
About a month ago I saw an advert on Gumtree for new faces at a London based modelling agency (that I probaby shouldn't name). The advert said that height wasn't an issue and so I thought I had nothing to lose by giving it a shot. I sent through a couple of my previous photos, which I'm quite proud of (an example is the photograph at the top of my blog) and they offered me an interview. I told a friend about it and she decided to do the same thing so we agreed to go along at the same time for moral support.
I knew that I'd have to do a test shoot (apparently to see how well or not I worked in front of the camera) because I've changed my hair colour since my last photographs were taken. I chose an outfit the day before the interview and flicked through some magazines to get some posing inspiration.
When the day arrived I was pretty nervous. We arrived at the agency building and wandered into the waiting room. The man who would be interviewing us walked in and handed my friend a clipboard with a list of questions to answer (height, hair colour, weight, dress size, type of modelling work sought etc) and then walked out again. I looked across at her, confused. When he walked in again I asked him for my question sheet. He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, you're doing it too?"
I smiled, wincing through the verbal blow and answered happily that I was.
He got me a clipboard and I joked with my friend as I answered the questions, keeping a smile on my face to keep the burning feeling of humiliation at bay. The agency had claimed that it wasn't just looking for the thin tall type who usually model but their reaction when they actually saw a different kind of woman proved otherwise. I looked across at my thin, blonde-haired, amply-breasted companion and realised that they had seen me as the dowdy friend who comes along to provide moral support. As I answered the questions I felt irritated. Blue/green eyes, brunette, perfect ten. I am not ashamed of the way I look nor should I be made to feel that way.
When we were interviewed the clipboard man, who was no Brad Pitt himself, openly flirted with my friend. She gave him her photos and he asked her to select two that the agency could hold on to. She told him, with no flirtatious intent whatsoever, that he could keep all of them if he wanted and he grinned and told her obsequiously that he would love to have them all. Holding in the vomit, I passed over my photographs and relaxed into my chair, mirroring the nonchalence he displayed towards me.
He told us that we would get a few minutes each to pose for some shots and then we would pick five of the best ones to send further up the agency for consideration.
The shoot was a whirlwind and felt very rushed but I tried to keep my experience at hand by constantly saying snippets of advice in my head: "Always look just to the left, right or above the camera", "Never do something that looks unnatural", "Bend anything on your body that will bend - angles are in!"
About three minutes later it was all over and although there were some awful shots (partly the photographer's fault and partly mine) I chose five that I felt at least 60% happy with (in some of the photos I haven't quite found the light - a fair criticism). I still haven't received my favourite shot from that day (my friend loaded them onto her memory stick and has only sent three out of the five to me so far) but I will share one of the full length shots with you.
Stay confident,
Emzikles xxx
Thursday 18 March 2010
RAVE ABOUT... Fashion!
Hello all,
This week has been a stressful one with fundraising, uni. work and an interview (which I will fill you in on later) but for now I have to tell you about a website that I've just discovered. I'm pretty sure this website has been around for a while so if you already knew it then this will all be old news and I'll hang my head in shame. If not, however, then yay for me! The shop I'm talking about is called Electric Gypsy. It's based in a store in Exeter (and has been there since 2004) but you can also check out their pieces online.
They have home made retro clothing, reproduction vintage and genuine vintage and it's all beautiful! What's better than putting on an outfit in the morning and knowing that you will never see anyone else wearing the same thing when you're out and about?
My current favourites are:
This lovely vintage evening dress at £26
This week has been a stressful one with fundraising, uni. work and an interview (which I will fill you in on later) but for now I have to tell you about a website that I've just discovered. I'm pretty sure this website has been around for a while so if you already knew it then this will all be old news and I'll hang my head in shame. If not, however, then yay for me! The shop I'm talking about is called Electric Gypsy. It's based in a store in Exeter (and has been there since 2004) but you can also check out their pieces online.
They have home made retro clothing, reproduction vintage and genuine vintage and it's all beautiful! What's better than putting on an outfit in the morning and knowing that you will never see anyone else wearing the same thing when you're out and about?
My current favourites are:
This lovely vintage evening dress at £26
... and this 1980s cocktail dress at the more expensive price of £40
If you like the look of these two dresses then go and check out the rest of the clothes (men's and women's) at:
Happy Shopping,
Emzikles xxx
Monday 15 March 2010
RAVE ABOUT...Theatre!
On the 9th March I met the playwright and actor Tim Crouch. For those of you who are into your theatre you may have seen or read his play "The Author" - a play that steps away from realism and meshes the audience with the actors with the intention of creating a shared journey.
Tim is a tall bald headed man with the most soul-penetrating eyes I have ever seen. When he walked into our writing session it seemed that his reputation was a few steps ahead. Over twenty intimidated writers pretended to be nonchalent, shifting only slightly in their seats as he grinned around the room.
To begin with he told us all about his past experiences including the years he spent acting, the course he took (and disliked) at Central School of Speech and Drama and his role as a saucy air cabin crew member on an ITV1 programme.
After this insight into his past he began to talk about his writing. It soon became apparent that his ideas about the theatre were well defined and clear unlike my own flabby pontifications on the craft of playwriting.
The idea central to his work is the removal of the literal from the theatre. He argued that theatre did not need to be so figurative - an audience do not need to see a set representing a 'place' - their imaginations can be stimulated by words alone. He referred to himself as a "theatre maker" rather than a "writer with a capital 'W'" and explained that he saw his writing as a kind of code for a performance.
Tim was also honest about what he calls his "addiction to story", which, to me, seems like the best kind of addiction to have (although maybe not worthy of a trip to the Priory).
"There are always stories in my plays," he said, "and narrative hooks that draw the audience in."
For me, a high point of the discussion came when Tim talked about being made to feel stupid in the theatre/theatre industry and how awful it feels when that happens. This resonated with me as I thought back on the multitude of inaccessible academic blather that I've previously tried to decode. I decided that my pen and I are stronger than academics and their thesauruses.
All in all I have to say Tim Crouch is a really funny, intelligent man who makes innovative theatre.
If you want to see any of Tim's work, his play "My Arm" is on in Brighton in April. This play is about a boy who lives with one arm constantly above his head. I hasten to add that at no point during the performance does Tim lift his arm above his head (no figurative art remember). So if you're in Brighton check it out!
Tim is a tall bald headed man with the most soul-penetrating eyes I have ever seen. When he walked into our writing session it seemed that his reputation was a few steps ahead. Over twenty intimidated writers pretended to be nonchalent, shifting only slightly in their seats as he grinned around the room.
To begin with he told us all about his past experiences including the years he spent acting, the course he took (and disliked) at Central School of Speech and Drama and his role as a saucy air cabin crew member on an ITV1 programme.
After this insight into his past he began to talk about his writing. It soon became apparent that his ideas about the theatre were well defined and clear unlike my own flabby pontifications on the craft of playwriting.
The idea central to his work is the removal of the literal from the theatre. He argued that theatre did not need to be so figurative - an audience do not need to see a set representing a 'place' - their imaginations can be stimulated by words alone. He referred to himself as a "theatre maker" rather than a "writer with a capital 'W'" and explained that he saw his writing as a kind of code for a performance.
Tim was also honest about what he calls his "addiction to story", which, to me, seems like the best kind of addiction to have (although maybe not worthy of a trip to the Priory).
"There are always stories in my plays," he said, "and narrative hooks that draw the audience in."
For me, a high point of the discussion came when Tim talked about being made to feel stupid in the theatre/theatre industry and how awful it feels when that happens. This resonated with me as I thought back on the multitude of inaccessible academic blather that I've previously tried to decode. I decided that my pen and I are stronger than academics and their thesauruses.
All in all I have to say Tim Crouch is a really funny, intelligent man who makes innovative theatre.
If you want to see any of Tim's work, his play "My Arm" is on in Brighton in April. This play is about a boy who lives with one arm constantly above his head. I hasten to add that at no point during the performance does Tim lift his arm above his head (no figurative art remember). So if you're in Brighton check it out!
Wednesday 10 March 2010
RAVE ABOUT... Charity
Hiya,
It's been a while since I've written a post because I've been organising a few things, most importantly a fundraising event for Asylum Aid. This charity helps vulnerable people who come to the UK for protection. A lot of these people are fleeing political persecution. Here in Britain we maintain the right to say what we want when we want and I'm sure that having expressed ourselves we don't then fear murder, torture or rape as a form of repercussion!
I have heard so many stories of aylum seekers who, having already endured emotional/physical pain, have been made to feel like 'fakes' by our government.
From the 19th to the 25th of April I will be doing a week of alternate silences and fasts. Monday will be a fast, Tuesday a silence, Wednesday a fast and so on...
If you feel strongly about this cause then please sponsor me at: www.bmycharity.com/fastsilence
Thanks you lot,
Emzikles xxx
It's been a while since I've written a post because I've been organising a few things, most importantly a fundraising event for Asylum Aid. This charity helps vulnerable people who come to the UK for protection. A lot of these people are fleeing political persecution. Here in Britain we maintain the right to say what we want when we want and I'm sure that having expressed ourselves we don't then fear murder, torture or rape as a form of repercussion!
I have heard so many stories of aylum seekers who, having already endured emotional/physical pain, have been made to feel like 'fakes' by our government.
From the 19th to the 25th of April I will be doing a week of alternate silences and fasts. Monday will be a fast, Tuesday a silence, Wednesday a fast and so on...
If you feel strongly about this cause then please sponsor me at: www.bmycharity.com/fastsilence
Thanks you lot,
Emzikles xxx
Thursday 25 February 2010
RANT ABOUT...Fashion!
This week is eating disorders awareness week. It is ironic therefore that Miss Beckham – the vain little twiglet – has made headlines for choosing what can only be described has a stick insect with a pout to represent her 2010 fashion range. At New York fashion week she picked the skeletal model Eugenia Mandzhieva to for her catwalk show. For those of you who don’t know who this is – you will be able to find her photo on pro-anorexia websites as ‘thinspiration’. I will not be putting her ribby little body on my blog, that’s for sure!
Victoria Beckham defends skinny models by arguing that most of them are “naturally” that thin. I love that phrase – “naturally skinny” – the fashion world’s golden excuse. Seriously - concave cheeks and big black bags under sunken eyes – that’s hardly Mother Nature’s way is it? Just because this model looks like a blade of grass when she stands sideways on does not mean that she has a “natural” body shape.
Sufferers of eating disorders are getting younger. Both men and women become victims. I find Victoria’s behaviour highly irresponsible and disagree with selfish creatures like her being allowed to bask in the media limelight.
If you’d actually like to find out more about eating disorders and the devastating impact they have on sufferers and their families then please check out http://www.pale-reflections.com/. This website provides information of symptoms to look out for if you suspect a loved one is ill and it gives advice on how to deal with their illness gently and helpfully.
We’re bored of the skinny fashion brigade now. Curves are in – they always have been – so don’t you forget it.
Wishing you good health,
Emzikles xxx
Victoria Beckham defends skinny models by arguing that most of them are “naturally” that thin. I love that phrase – “naturally skinny” – the fashion world’s golden excuse. Seriously - concave cheeks and big black bags under sunken eyes – that’s hardly Mother Nature’s way is it? Just because this model looks like a blade of grass when she stands sideways on does not mean that she has a “natural” body shape.
Sufferers of eating disorders are getting younger. Both men and women become victims. I find Victoria’s behaviour highly irresponsible and disagree with selfish creatures like her being allowed to bask in the media limelight.
If you’d actually like to find out more about eating disorders and the devastating impact they have on sufferers and their families then please check out http://www.pale-reflections.com/. This website provides information of symptoms to look out for if you suspect a loved one is ill and it gives advice on how to deal with their illness gently and helpfully.
We’re bored of the skinny fashion brigade now. Curves are in – they always have been – so don’t you forget it.
Wishing you good health,
Emzikles xxx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
