Another year has rolled around already. ALREADY? In 2012 I have mastered the art of cross-stitch and crochet, worked on a lot of TV programmes and websites. Now is a perfect time to set up those goals and dreams that you would like/hope/wish/bleakly aspire to accomplish in 2013. I’m hoping that writing them down will mean that I will stick to them (or others will encourage me to stick to them too), here’s mine. Just a few.
1.) To post a blog post a week. Either for this blog, or others. Note: it doesn’t need to be writing specific, but it can just be something that inspires.
2.) Do more. Read more. Tweet more. Make more things. Take more photos. Go to more events. See more of my friends. Do more fun stuff.
3.) Make a video. I’m not saying I need to learn the entire mechanics of FCP, but at least make a short video and put it together.
Short, sweet, simple. Here’s to 2013!
Image by elycefeliz via creative commons on Flickr.
This time last week I was in Helsinki. Bosskite had a gig in the motherland of Skwee, so I went along to help carry the gear and have a mini break in Finland. Helsinki may be expensive, but a beautiful design mecca, oozing culture and character. Here are some of my best snaps from the weekend.
It’s official! I’ve moved! In with the boyfriend! It’s a bit amazing. We are now living a smug life consisting of conversations about Ikea furniture and nightly home-cooked dinners. This is by far the best thing about out flat… the closet. You can actually get lost in it and have to come out of it.
Obtaining said perfect flat wasn’t without its own trials and tribulations. I have put this flathunting heartache into words for issue five of Feminist Jumble, an issue appropriately entitled Bloody London. Go read it. It’s a scream.
Expect this blog to get quite a bit more crafty over the coming months, as I plan to decorate the shit out of this flat.
Obviously, I’m thrilled I’ve had a mention in a Sunday Paper. It’s actually one of my News Years Resolutions crossed off the list. The said friend is going to discuss the article in their media class the next day. But I’m a Feminist? Why has that label left a funny taste in my mouth?
I don’t think I would describe myself as a Feminist. I might have done two years ago, when I was read stacks of Feminist theory, was quoting the second Sex daily and de-constructing Mad Men’s Betty Draper through the gaze of the Feminine Mystique. But that piece is more about my life-long hatred for Apple products, with a side helping of anti patriarchy for good measure. That’s what anyone who would know me would say, but the language used in that piece makes be probably warrants that label on first glance.
I don’t wish to be labelled as a feminist, as I think (and this is the same for a lot of women) it is just one small part of my identity. I am also a writer, a creative person, a sub-editor, a web researcher, a tweeter, a friend, a sister, a daughter. But it was the label that was appropriate for the argument that Paul Vallely wanted to express, that Steve Jobs has transformed electronic desire. But an artists work speaks for itself, and in this case, it’s feminist.
For the 6th time in 6 years, I am moving. But this time it’s in with the boyfriend (gasp! maturity!), in what I can happily say is our dream flat. We’re very excited about having our own place, no more house sharing! I’ve already spent most of the weekend looking at interior decorating blogs like decor8 and artwall, and dribbling over shabby chic interiors. Previously I have had to tried to make my space seem homely and Rosie-esqe by making a wall. This is the current one that dominates my bedroom.
Some might call it a moodboard, some might call it a mess, but my wall is my little collection of memories and trinkets from years gone by. Such as for as just one example, the sticker on the jacket of a young Irish fellow carrying triple vodka slush puppie that my friend Caroline was (un)fortunate enough to meet at Bloc festival.
I’ve been buying lots of independent mags and zines over the last year, one of my favourites has been Fever Zine. When I ordered a copy to arrive through the post, this delightful stamp print greeted me on the back of the envelope, by one of the artists that’s featured in the magazine, Julia Pott. It’s a cute and playful illustration that reminds of the imaginary Ligers that littered Napoleon Dynamite’s school books, and the rest of her work is just as excitedly quirky.
This is the poster that came in the middle of the first issue of Shellsuit Zombie, another top class zine that you should have checked out yesterday. The work is by the eboy studio, one of the most popular collaborative groups who dub themselves ‘The Godfathers of Pixel’. I can’t tell if it’s a Robot or if it’s a Nuclear weapon disguised as a robot, but a ginger geek is at the controls so I can’t imagine it doing any harm!
This is a postcard that I picked up from a trip to the Saatchi Gallery British Art now exhibition late last year. This painting, By Edward Kay, is called The Bon Viveur, which is french for a person who enjoys the good things in life. A pure celebration of in your face dickhead-ism. The crazy colored background was another poster from a fashion issue of Wallpaper magazine.
Pride of place is this super cute print I received as a birthday present from Ross – who has still failed to tell me who made it! It’s still hiding/being kept safe in the plastic, but I can’t wait to get a frame for it to hang in the center of the new wall in the new pad. Now to collect more memories for the year…
As I have mentioned before on Twitter/Facebook/to anyone that will listen, I’m going to start writing film reviews for the online Music/Art/Film magazine The 405. My first review was published on the site yesterday, a review of the Oscar contender The Fighter starring Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams and Melissa Leo.
While I’ll mostly be writing about film, The 405‘s specialism is mainly indie and electronic music, with plenty of reviews, interviews and interesting debates about independent music. It’s run by an uber enthusiastic bunch of individuals and it’s content is written by an even savvier bunch of volunteers. I’m joining the team to review new film releases for the site as a personal exercise for me to keep writing on a regular basis, improve my writing technique and commentary on popular culture, and hopefully as a spring board for other work in the future.
It’s easy to walk into the cinema thinking The Fighter is just another wannabe Rocky. Don’t. While The Fighter is based on the true, rags-to-riches story of Micky ‘Irish’ Ward, the story is as captivating and entertaining as any other, but thankfully misses out the steroid injections.
It’s mid 80’s Massachusetts. Micky Ward (Mark Walberg) is a thirty-year-old welterweight boxer, known in the sport as a ‘stepping stone’, used in fights to allow other boxers to reach the big time. Micky is managed by his mother Alice (Melissa Leo) but she instead dotes on his older half-brother Dicky Eklund (Christan Bale), a former boxer, local legend, and crack-cocaine addict. Dicky, a boyhood inspiration to Micky, is predictably unreliable and spends more time in the local crack house than in the boxing ring training Micky.The film is less about Micky’s professional struggles in the ring and more about his personal struggles with his dysfunctional family.
The film is well paced throughout and contains fewer boxing scenes than expected, but they’re nevertheless realistically grisly. There are some nice cinematic touches that remind you of the realism of the story, such as the grainy television screenings of Micky’s matches and the documentary that Dicky was taking part in. The comic scenes are also a surprise given the subject matter, particularly the ones involving Dicky and Alice avoiding the inevitable intervention for Dicky’s habit, and Charlene spectacularly locking hair with Micky’s seven sisters.
Mark Wahlberg, also from a Massachusetts family of 9 children, looks very comfortable in the lead role, physically training for this film for the last 4 years, as well as producing it. However, for all of Wahlberg’s passion, Micky appears to have very little of it, which is the film’s weakness. Both the film and Micky’s career are driven in two different directions by the strong supporting cast. Christian Bale and Melissa Leo provide outstanding Oscar worthy performances, while Amy Adams portrays Micky’s girlfriend Charlene Fleming as understated, but just as fierce.
It’s also worth noting that the Dropkick Murphys song to Micky Ward ‘The Warriors Code’ surprisingly did not appear in the soundtrack. I think this is because the overall tone of the film isn’t just a celebration of Micky’s achievements, but also Dicky’s personal come-back. The Fighter won’t start a boxing revolution, or batter your emotions on the ropes, but it’s in great shape and defiantly worth a punt.
Been a little while since my last post. I have been a busy Beeb lady, making films, updating websites and being a general media lush. It’s been brilliant. We are launching the Doctor Who competition next week so I will post up the videos that I have worked on over the last few weeks.
I have two weeks and two days on my placement and I still don’t know what I am going to be doing at the end of it. I have applied for jobs in both London and Brighton, and I have a few interviews. I am hopeful I will find something at the the end of my placement, but the uncertainty is making me nervous!
However, I have had to make the decision if I should stay in London or move back to Brighton. I do miss the relaxed Brighton lifestyle terribly, where I would have more time to write and enjoy beach life. But I have decided to give London a go, even if it is just for the next few months. I am going to take my friend’s room in Finsbury Park as she is moving to somewhere bigger nearby, while I hopefully get settled into London life.
I’m excited if a little uneasy about what the future will hold. Lets see what life has in store for me next.
East London residents might recognise this cuddly multi-coloured cross-stitch bear, it’s a character created by Graffiti artist Malarky, as seen in Brick Lane.
