Archive | Rants RSS feed for this section

Feminist Jumble – Bloody London

4 Nov

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.

Tags: , , , ,

Ten tips I wish I knew when I was a job-seeking graduate

27 Jul

It’s graduation ceremony time. And you graduate students are all shitting yourself. I can tell, as the amount of searches containing the word ‘internship’ that have led you to this blog have quadrupled just this week. You are not alone.

If you’ve graduated this year, Congradulations! You are now about to move from degree land to join the world of work. A career is a fish that is hard to catch, and it’s a slips from your grasp once you think you’ve got the hang of it. It’s not as demoralising and degrading as the movies sell it, but you can kiss good-bye to that personal freedom that you didn’t even know existed until you chucked it in the air with your graduation cap. But hey, at least you can start reading for pleasure again!

I was in your shoes last year, and here’s my advice. This time last year I was shitting myself about job-searching too, and even went as far to ask if the university system was failing graduates.

  1. Gutted about your grade? No-one will ever ask you what you got. Except for academics and snobs. Similarly, no-one will care what your degree is in, until you get to 30 and start thinking about an MA. Except for academics and snobs.
  2. If you havn’t had/got an internship by now… It’s time to stop being picky. Or start looking. Or start volunteering. Or start packing.
  3. Don’t expect your first internship to lead to paid work. Most people have to embark on three before they’ve gained enough experience to gain paid work. The secret though is to make yourself indispensable.
  4. The perfect job won’t be around the corner waiting for you. Finding your first role can take anything up to a year. Your first job won’t be perfect either. It takes a decade of discovery to know what you really want to do in life. Don’t lose heart.
  5. If you are skint, there is no shame in moving home to save cash. But set yourself a move out deadline before you kill your parents.
  6. There is also no shame in getting a stop-gap job. It’s cash, more skills to your bow and most importantly, not forever.
  7. If you want to go travelling, do it. If you want to do another course, do it. But if you are doing either if those just to delay the inevitable, don’t.
  8. If you are thinking of staying in your uni town, think back to those lonely summers. Student magic doesn’t last forever once your friends depart.
  9. With the friends that are left, surround yourself with those in the same boat as you. Distance yourself the gloating or whiny ‘friends’ that you shared at uni that will only serve to depress you. Fuck it… UNFRIEND THEM.
  10. And yes… you looked very stupid in that hat. It’s a look only a mother could love. But you will forget about it. Until next year.
01/08/11 Update: Guardian careers has featured this post in their weekly Grad links. Thanks :)

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Of all the things I have lost, I miss my mind the most.

4 Feb

Apologies in advance, but I need to get fury off my chest before it sets my bra on fire.

Whenever you book time off, you are guaranteed to come down with some shitty little pathetic  illness. Not a full-blown signed off by the Doctor illness, a not-even-worth-mentioning snotty cold or general run-downedness that if you even think about having an alcoholic drink or staying up way past your bed-time you suddenly start running a fever. I’m already sitting in a sauna as no matter how much I turn down the boiler thermostat, it is set to tropical.

Now I’m fuming on the inside, as I have another set of items to add to the following list:

Things I have lost over the 18 months (off the top of my head)

  • A black cardigan
  • 4 pairs of black tights
  • 2 pairs of leggings
  • 5 scarves (3 black, two miscellaneous, one of which was intentionally stolen by another on day of receiving)
  • 1 pair of gloves
  • 3 pairs of underwear (ewwwwwwwwwwwwww)
  • At least a dozen hair clips
  • 7 earrings
  • a necklace
  • 3 notebooks (including a 3/4 full life drawing sketchbook)
  • 2 Lever arch files (empty)
  • 4 books (not including Camera Lucida – which has been stolen and stubbornly reacquired from potential love interests on two separate occasions)
  • 5 DVDs
  • 5 items of post
  • 2 printer’s drawer ornaments
  • A multi-way adaptor
  • A full length mirror (yes I have lost a full length antique fucking mirror)
  • A single duvet.
  • A double bottom sheet
  • 3 limited edition posters that were bound to be worth a lot of money one day (minus dog-end tax)
  • A pair of purple glasses
  • A young persons Rail card
  • An Oyster card (with £20 of credit)
  • A months worth of pre-booked and paid for train tickets.

I can not STAND losing stuff, yet it happens to me on But the last three items on this list, lost today, has infuriated me beyond all belief. I have torn my boyfriends room upside down, taken my handbag apart (several times), retraced my steps and telephoned venues. I know that I can only blame my own stupidity and blocked sinuses. As pathetic and trivial it may seem, I’m still spitting feathers. And sweaty sickly ones at that.

Now I am hoping that by listing the items that have unfortunately made their way into Room 101 they might suddenly grace me with their presence. And if they do, they will have me to answer to.

- Title Quote attributed to Mark Twain

Tags: , , , , , ,

Destroyed Apple products

24 Nov

Destroyed iPad

If you asked me if ‘I fancied an Apple’, without hesitation I would tell you to fuck off. My hatred for Apple is something I’ve documented  on this blog, and every day with the people around me trying to tell me otherwise. I have often thought about what would happen if someone took a gun to an iPhone or an iPad. Maybe it would shock people into realising that our obsession with consumerism and having the latest, overpriced unimportant gadget right now is unhealthy.

Michael Tompert and Paul Fairchild did just that in an exhibition in San Francisco last month. The idea came to Tompert after his sons were arguing over an iPod, and he smashed it on the floor. The pair then set work on obliterating 12 pieces of Apple-ware, saying: ‘it’s not about destroying old products. it’s about our relationship with the new.’

Maybe one day I will fully explain why I hate Apple so much. But until then I will gorge in the beauty of these destroyed pieces of Apple hardware.

Originally spotted on Juztapoz. Images from Designboom.

Destroyed iPhone

Destroyed iPhone

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Save the Arts

16 Sep

Art is when you hear a knocking from your soul – and you answer.  ~Terri Guillemets

I try my best not to get too political on my blog, but sometimes a story pops up that I am so passionate about that I have to get vocal. Considering that I have just completed my degree in History of Art, I couldn’t have been a good student if I didn’t get fired up about the Governments plans to Slash funding to the Arts by 25-30%. The UK Film council has already been targeted with its boss quitting over the cuts, and the Labour Government’s flagship arts programme Creative Partnerships, is also facing the axe.

I have previously volunteered for the Brighton Festival, Phoenix Brighton, The Basement Brighton and Worthing Museum and Art Gallery, so I have seen first hand how tight budgets already are. Cuts to the Arts budget will force smaller institutions to close, particularly in areas where arts programmes have encouraged an area’s rejuvenation. This could be anything from a art group for toddlers of single mums, to a dance school for teens.

Many artists rely on funding from institutions to start working, particularly if they have just graduated. Artists of YBA movement were not commanding huge price tags for the works to begin with, Tracey Emin made her money selling ashtray’s with Damien Hirst’s face in.

Art helps us to make sense of the world. Artists have the confidence to say things that we don’t. Arts inspires us to do what we love. Art is then essential to the progression of society. The British cultural industry also leads the world and is an essential part of tourism. We should celebrate our strengths, not cut them down.

Please sign the Save the Arts petition, keep an eye on the Save the Arts Blog for more information. If you are also interested in the story keep an eye on Charlotte Higgins Blog, who will be reporting cuts to the arts. If you see any in your local area, get in touch with her. If you want to know what is being cut in your local area, check out I value the Arts.

The artist gazes upon a reality and creates his own impression.  The viewer gazes upon the impression and creates his own reality.  ~Robert Brault


Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Shooting pictures – material cultures in a material existence

24 Jul

This week has been a strange week. Work wise, I have accomplished so much and am enjoying my placement immensely – I went on location for a film shoot for the first time which was pretty exciting!

Emotionally though, I think London is getting me down. I’m finding the people here hard work, particularly when I feel like the only one smiling. Everyone is one mission to get to where they want to be, either on the tube or on the career ladder. I miss the sense of community and randomness that Brighton had. Upon reflection I realise my squirmy London emotions stem from the combination of working/trying to get into the cut-throat media industry, impending graduation and a full moon.

While I’m convinced my outlook will change next week, I wanted to write a post that hinted at the complexities that I am currently facing. On a magazine hunt this afternoon I wandered over to the Tate Modern, where I decided that for once, I wasn’t going to rant like a pubescent panda-eyed girl struck down with ladytrouble. Instead, I was going to wander around the gallery and pick a work that summed up this week’s feelings, without pretentiously ranting about myself.

The work I chose was ‘Shooting picture’ by Niki de Saint Phalle.

image

At the first glance it looks like paint thrown at papier mache – a predictable and uninspiring combiation. But on a closer inspection of the gritty yet pourus bedrock, you realise that the paint is dribbling from the crevices from within the frame, like multicoloured blood dribbling out of an open wound.

The artist’s technique? She enclosed paint parcels inside these papier-mache domes – but the paintings soul could only be released when someone shot at it – hence the title Shooting picture. Shooting something – be it a photograph, a film, or with a gun – is seen as a masculine job. It is aggressive and violent, but immensely satisfying when executed correctly. This particular work was shot by artists Robert Raushenberg and Jasper Johns, so the added element of the celebrity that gracing it’s presence will undoubtedly make the work more popular. Saint Phalle made many of these pictures but stopped making them after a few years, saying: “I had become addicted to shooting, like one becomes addicted to a drug.”

The more I think about this painting the more I find it as a resolution to the comatose state I’m trying to resist. It’s playful, methodical in is construction and harmless at first, yet the deeper you delve into it the more you realise the horror and brutality behind it’s beauty. Yet once you look at it, you will find yourself impossible to turn away.

Tags: , , , , ,

Things I can’t wait to do once I graduate

30 Apr
  • Sort out my music collection.
  • Download more music to fill deleted gaps.
  • Do a system restore on my computer. Realise mid-way I didn’t back everything up. Lose all my music.
  • Have a week where everything is completely overwhelming and cry daily.
  • Man-up.
  • Watch films without having to analyse them.
  • Look at paintings without having analyse them.
  • Have a S06 Lost orgy. Analyse it.
  • Spend a week in bed, doing nothing but playing Final Fantasy (band and game).
  • Start a ‘find of the day’ blog.
  • Think of a less wankier name for ‘find of the day’ blog.
  • Go for walks with no destination in mind that always seem to meander via the beach.
  • Get sunburnt and sick of the beach.
  • Take half my unfitting wardrobe to the charity shop.
  • Fill the new void with slimmer items.
  • Hand wash those two wool cardigans that have festerd in the corner of my room for 6 months.
  • Realise that smell will now never go away.
  • Learn how to read for pleasure again.
  • Write because I want to, not because I have to.
  • Start dating again.
  • Start a diary again. Start it with good intentions, but fill it boy peril.
  • Decide to put my boy peril to good use and start an anonymous blog of my dating stories.
  • Fall in love.
  • Get my heart broken.
  • Delete said blog for fear of libel action. Realise I will forever be a spinster.
  • Realise instead that my purpose in life is to create Ladytrouble (a magazine, not lesbian heartache).
  • Move to London.
  • Miss Brighton.
  • Realise when it’s too late that I had the time of my life at the BBC.
  • Move back to Brighton and miss London.
  • Go to Bestival. Meet random people. Dance like there is no tomorrow.
  • Realise in a true Jean Brodie style that I have just lived the prime years of my life. Let a part of my soul die.
  • Join the rat-race.
  • Daydream about going to university again.

    • Watch out kids… Granny is coming stay… FOREVER

    5 Mar

    I love my Grandma. Nanny B as I affectionately call her, she has been a rock for me since birth and I see her more as a mother than a grandmother. But over the last few months that love is fast developing into loathing. If things continue in the same manner manslaughter is looking very likely.

    I live with my aunt, which is fine, but my gran (my aunts mother) has been staying with us quite frequently to care for her great aunt who is in and out of nursing homes and hospitals. With this in mind this post makes me sound like a cruel and unsympathetic, but these visits are becoming more frequent, lengthy and unpredictable. Six months ago it was once a month. Now, she comes down to stay for at least 3 days out of every week. We have gained an extra lodger. One that leaves the house for two hours a day and then spends the rest of the time in the living room eating all our food, religiously watching shit TV because they complain that you don’t entertain them enough. A lodger that emotionally blackmails you into feeling guilty for not wanting to spend time with them. A lodger that makes you breathe a sigh of relief whenever they leave the house.

    This very clever lady is also skilled in the art of NLP. So when she comes to stay she always tries to fix you. When you don’t need to be fixed. You just need a break.

    I am in my final year of uni. I have the first draft of my dissertation due in next Friday, as well as my BBC interview on Tuesday and countless other pebble shaped duties that keep arising. The last thing that I need right now is my grandma texting me every evening asking me when I am coming home to cook her dinner. While I moved out of home when I was 18, I have now completely lost my independence.

    The fact that my social life gets put completely on hold is a major cortisol raising factor. On Shrove Tuesday, to celebrate presentation giving, I invited a friend round for some relaxing pan flipping action. What developed was a nagging tutorial in batter making and the release my stroppy inner child threatening to batter her if she wasn’t careful. Also, because her unplanned visits almost always cross over to the weekend, any frivolities have to be grandma rated.

    “Oh, you’re going out. Where? With who?”

    “You’re drinking already? It’s only…”

    “You smoke how much?”

    Whenever we have actual invited guests, any chatter beyond 12am is met with tutting and endless trips to the bathroom, as well as the demand of a morning introduction. One morning, I tried to usher a boy out of the house to avoid a Spanish inquisition and pre-marital judgement. No such luck.

    Maybe I should make a shit my nan says. Except nothing she says is awesome. Unless you wanted to know the complete history of medieval Britain, or the plot structure of Corrie.

    Feel a little bit better for getting that out of my system. Still feel terrible for being a grandma hater. She is back next Monday. I want to cry.

    Tags: , , ,

    The Fear – Playground magazine

    27 Feb

    I caught the fear big time this week. I avoided tutorials, procrastinated over my dissertation and went on a mental roller-coaster as the realisation of the end of my degree hit hard. Graduation day is 26th July. I think I am washing my hair. Plus the news that the BBC are cutting back their services means my chances of landing an internship with them are diminishing fast.

    So… rather than do anything really productive; I answered other peoples emails, attended a press conference (more about that in tomorrow’s post), and attended pebble shaped meetings. One of them was with some lovely and talented Grand Parade students at Playground magazine, in an attempt to get more graphic design students on board with the Pebble redesign. Their minizine is a celebration of the diverse creative talent that Brighton’ students have to offer, with their second issue coming out soon. They were keen to get involved with us spread the word, which is good news. They even wrote a post about us on their blog, which was nice of them.

    Tags: , , , , , , ,

    BBC Creative Internships – eternal applications

    21 Feb

    I have just spent the last two days pouring my soul into a 1500 word description of my employability for work experience. I know too well this is the just the beginning of many internship applications, interviews and disappointments… this ladies and gentlemen, is the end of studentdom, and the beginning of cold hard life.

    I shouldn’t be too hard on myself. I was wise enough to know some time ago to get as much experience under my belt as possible, so that when D-day came, I wouldn’t be scared. While most third years I know have caught ‘the fear’ good and proper, I am embracing the prospect of working 9-5 with both arms and a cheeky smile.

    I can’t deny that that the two days I have spent applying the BBC creative internship scheme haven’t been a  little gut wrenching. While there are 12 schemes to apply for (I went for 5), each has to be done separately. I chose the easy option and wrote a script in word for some extreme Ctrl+ action, which is generally favoured against, but I did specify in the initial question why I chose that particular placement, putting more effort and a general ‘pick me!’ attitude across in the BBC Three and Blast Website places.

    This was the final statement, saying why I should be a BBC creative trainee. Modesty is not my strong point.

    I feel I have a range of skills I would be beneficial this department; great communication and time management skills, the ability to think on my feet and generate ideas, bags of enthusiasm and self motivation to succeed. I am confident, bubbly, have an infectious sense of humour and above all, am creative. I work well under pressure, never crumbling before a deadline, but I always play as hard as I work afterwards. I am a keen cultural discoverer, try to read and absorb as much as I can, as well as sharing my findings with as many people as possible. I would relish the opportunity to share my discoveries with the public.

    I know that the opportunity to work for the BBC would be a fantastic opportunity that I would throw myself into to get the best possible experience. I am willing to try my hand to anything, willing to step outside of my comfort zone, because I know that these situations are where creativity thrives.

    Tags: , , , , , , ,

    ← Older Entries

    Follow

    Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

    Join 1,255 other followers

    %d bloggers like this: