So each year I do my top 10 movies. 2015 has been a great year for females. So many strong female-led movies. And it’s about time!
I love going to the movies, i love the anticipation of waiting to see a movie. However, this year I didn’t get much opportunity to see as many arthouse flicks as I would have liked, and this top 10 list reflects that. Now, each movie in my top 10 has a place – for it’s individual reason. So it might not be the *GREATEST* movie of the year, but it certainly achieved something for me in an area such as character development, or dialogue, or cinematography. ect. Sooo wasting no more time.
10.) Mad Max: Fury Road. Unhinged, high-octane vehicular mayhem. A tough-as-nails postapocalyptic feminist heroine bitingly portrayed by Charlize Theron. (And hey, Tom Hardy was pretty good too as the titular hero.) A crazed ride into a monumental, lightning-etched storm with the pedal all the way to the metal while a war boy howls “Oh, what a day … what a lovely day!” Unforgettable movie moments are made of this. And to think the picture was made by a director in his late 60s. George Miller, you are the (aged) man for the ages.
9.) Carol. A breath-takingly beautiful cinematic journey of a forbidden love. Filmed as if an Edward Hopper painting had sprung to life, its mood washes over you in an evocative mix of opulence and despair as it dizzyingly dances with the forbidden. Some of the best scenes are filmed from the perspective of a person looking through a car window. 2015’s best romance.
8.) Tangerine. This movie feels the most 2015. Shot entirely on iPhones and with a budget that wouldn’t cover cab fares on a blockbuster, Sean S. Baker’s indie dramedy makes virtue of necessity. Compelling filmmaking, too, in this Sundance sensation about transgendered sex workers, a pimp, cabbie and angry mother-in-law in lowdown L.A. Doing whatever it takes to make the invisible, visible.
7.) JOY: Joy can be viewed as a modern day rags-to-riches fairytale. It’s Cinderella without the prince. In a way, that’s part of the film’s charm. Sure, there’s preposterous dialogue, but there are also so many electric sequences that made me lean in, smile, & care about a mop. It does give hope showing that no matter how one does struggle in life miracles of success are possible, so don’t read all the bad reviews and assume otherwise.
6.) Steve Jobs. Side-stepping arguements about the accuracy of the biopic, the real achievement here is making cinema out of material that isn’t even a stage play as much as very expensive radio: a battery of dialogue, unbroken by reflective pauses or even, on occasion, the actors drawing breath. The staginess of the movie is its greatest benefit, allowing the characters and the dialogue to shine. Boyle, however, is not a director to be contained in dry rooms, and he allows this theatrical drama to move, via music and editing, into the realm of real cinema. It may be stagey, but make no mistake, it crackles and moves like a motherfucker.
5.) Spy. Now i love a good comedy, but great comedies are hard to come by these days – and I feel like there’s less and less comedies being made due to their hard task. Spy makes making seemless comedies look super easy to make. Feig keeps his Spy machinery cranking so smoothly that nothing said or done feels as outrageous as, in fact, it is. McCarthy is the star of the film, but her willingness to let her fellow actors shine when an opportunity knocks to give the audience a belly-laugh is clear, and it’s the undeniable strength of the supporting cast that makes Spy a strong a film.
4.) AMY. I was taken aback by how well an thoughtful this documentary was made. Watching Kapadia’s film, it is possible to see how badly she was let down by the male figures closest to her. it’s the music that suddenly feels monumental because somewhere in that dark stream of rolling notes and rumbling minors, we can hear the eternal soul of human sadness turned, for a brief moment, into something undeniably beautiful.
3.) Inside Out. It’s an emotional rollercoaster, and it’s one of pixar’s finest. It takes a long walk down an infinite pier of personal identity in, an animated tour of developmental psychology that captures the pain of growing up using primary colours and Amy Poehler’s voice. As for visual style, it’s dazzling, flouting CGI’s tendency to photorealism in favour of overt cartoonishness in a 1950s retro vein, together with a refined exploration of light: the emotions are composed of fibrous bundles of luminescence.
2.) 45 Years. An inner drama, taking place inside the characters. There are no heroes or villains in this film. Shot with loving attention to the silent vistas of the English countryside, 45 Years conveys a sense of isolation, of two people being together yet growing apart, a dream that has been shattered, and a lifetime of security undermined by a moment of doubt. It is a thorny subject but beautifully told with gentleness and love. Plus 2 outstounding performances.
1.) The Martian. I actually can’t stop thinking about this movie. A fan of the book, I wasn’t sure how the motion picture would compare, and indeed make the main character-likeable. But yeah, there’s flaws. But there was something about The Martian that captured the 12 year old in me. Damon makes the most of this “me time”, engaging our interest, winning our sympathy and teasing our anxieties about his perilous predicament. Whilst the most surprisingly element about this movie was the screenplay. What makes the movie unique to me was Watney’s optimistic point of view. He believes that he isn’t going to die on Mars, and this transforms this rather depressing situation into something comical instead, engaging us with many self-help survivalist discoveries. But when you really think about it, this is a very personal film about some people coming together to save somebody. That’s it. And in today’s world, it’s nice to hear an story about people coming together to save one of their own. It might take all the romance out of Mars, but substitutes in its place science, cooperation, and human perseverance. PS: You should read the book too – and check out the author’s videos on how everything is correct including the astrophysics!
It’s kind of exciting not really fitting into pigeon holes. They say I’m a Smizz of all trades, master of none. I’m currently designing and coding an app in my (limited) spare time, which I hope will help to aid patients in having a better patient-centered-care experience. The app hopes to include all the information for their treatment, and later on become interactive- enabling the patient to get the support they really need (financial, emotional, physical, ect) by using a series of questions over a period of time, and documenting how they’re coping/feeling/side-effects, ect. It’s exciting stuff. But learning coding for this is a steep learning curve.
As an intermediate dabbler in website designing and coding, and now embarking on objective-C and swift codes I am no stranger to being able to take a problem and see the inevitable solutions, but also I’m pretty skilled now in being able to hypotheize the potential for disaster – what problems could I run into using a certain code with another, or ethically, or in language, ect. We use this kind of thinking in Healthcare too. It’s figuring out what our best practice is by eliminating all the problems for optimal experience and outcomes. In art, we use these problems too, to breakdown into manageable truths. As a Marxist, I’ve naturally developed a somewhat cynical ability to breakdown systems really easily into oppressive segregations & loopholes & weaknesses.
But thinking like this naturally, or often, comes with its consequences. Your every day problems become disastrous in your mind. I catch myself getting caught up in this mind-set – Unanswered phone calls become bad-news, someone being late becomes a car accident, late arrivals due to delayed trains and buses become missed opportunities. Being poorly and not doing as much as I used to became career stagnation. The omnipresent of ‘but-what-ifs’ continue to grow.
However, now I try and use this unconscious worst-case-scenario as a way to panic myself into action. Rewards come from risk, and a life without risk is a life that’s probably pretty boring.
When I arrived in the land of the ill – i wasn’t sure i was going to survive. It was the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. I made a list of all the things I’d do if I ever recovered. If I got a second chance. I mean, yeah, i had led a pretty interesting life up to that moment, but I had made sacrifices in the present for a future which I had no idea I’d ever get, as we all do. As a patient, I often felt misunderstood. I was demeaned within the healthcare system 1 or 2 times. I felt ashamed for being poorly. (As well as being shown amazing compassion). I could see levels of the system that I knew I could instantly change if I was in the system (such as just simplying listening to the patient, making them feel heard). I also ferociously read everything i could on cancer, & healthcare and compassion. The experience made me want to be the change I so desperately wanted to see as a Patient. I thought, mane, this system needs some more creative/different thinkers! I have this habit of trying to game systems. So when I started to get back onto my feet a little bit, or learning to live with what was happening, I began to realize some of those things on my list. After talking to a lot of people, I realized the potential possibilities so I applied & started my healthcare adventure.
Being told that it looks like you have a malignancy forces you to realize that life can end literally any time. And this quickly changes what you deem worthy of your attention. I was furious at myself for not being as present with friends and family as I should have been. All the nights-out I missed at university, all the times I wasn’t empathetic to my housemate for his anxiety with post-graduation life. I was absolutely Furious! These were things I hadn’t even calculated in my head until I got ill.
The junction between mortality and mundanity is an exquisite source of perspective. I often sit on the bus, watch a sunset and I think about how these boundaries between are treacherous and illusory. It’s hard to gain this kind of perspective, and it’s equally hard not to lose it, not to start slipping back into old habits. Partially for that reason, I enrolled onto my radiation oncology course. I love art, and it makes me happy and fulfils my soul. But I do miss the way people think in art, and the discussions and dialogues when I’m working in healthcare. I miss the playfulness of the every day I had when I was a fulltime artist – but I believe there’s somewhere in between for both areas.
Art makes me the person who doesn’t trust everything I am taught in the healthcare system. Art is the reason why I can understand and empathize with a persons story, with the person and not just the disease that we’re treating. Healthcare makes me appreciate the edges of life, the possibilities, the beauty & tragedy in it. Designing something brings these 2 worlds together for me.
But coding has taught me about action. This is extremely important right now. We are standing in the middle of time, where great injustices go untouched. Architects of the financial melt down continue to swoon with the governments. & yet our laws and governments continue to value capitalism over humanity. Under-funding the NHS, profiting from education, trying to put laws into place to criminalize our movements when we try and mobilise against things that are wrong, cutting funding for those who are in great need of it, where we give up our freedoms, and allow ourselves to be spied on by the NSA, ect all under the guise of protection.
Change doesn’t roll in on inevitability, it comes with continuous struggle.
So, just as I promised my bleeding, puking, bruised former-self, I plan on raging against the bullshit, and make things that can help others, and keep the door open with kindess & listen. I will wander for a while: call this just 1 of many future sabbaticals. Life isn’t linear. Neither is coding, making, changing. In the end, I think my job over-all isn’t healthcare student, nor artist – but to remind myself every day that my time is limited. And so is yours.
As Aaron Swarts used to say, “What is the most important thing you could be working on right now? And if you’re not working on that, why aren’t you?”
Here’s somethings I’ve been working on:
My mom always says that on the first of the new year, you should do a little bit of everything good: small bits of good habits you want to carry through into the new year.
That’s how I’ve always tried to start every first day of the year, no matter where in the world I am.
This year, I am doing a little of the same here: going on (very) short runs, finishing unfinished books, starting a new one, do some writing, do some work, trying to be creative and challenge the boundaries. And then, because I’ll be in Lisbon, Portugal in a few days: I’m going to listen to some good music, go to galleries, eat whatever delightful food there is to wonder upon to and take a walk to explore and learn more about a new country, a new city and all it’s neighborhoods.
It allows for a little reflection, a little resetting, and a little bit of conscious forward-thinking about how you should spend the rest of the year.
That’s a little bit of everything good.
I am, however, a kid of tradition (or superstitious – depends how you look at it). And if I find something that works – I go with it. i can’t take chances changing it. Each year I sort of blaze over the best highlights, and then wish for the things I’d like to happen/achieve in 2015. It’s a good way to hold myself accountable – and additionally – i think it works 😉
It was amazing. And bittersweet. And hardwork but full of laughs and adventures too.
I sat my first ever exams in about 8 years. I can’t even remember how to do exams, but I passed all with Firsts. That was a trip!
My Slovakian Friends, Rado & Katka who I worked with for 2 years in the USA, came to live with us for a year! Exciting!
I did some cool work for TalkTalk
Gave a talk on #RONCrg twitter group that I run & recieved some great feedback.
Got Shep – the awesome German Shephard doggie!
I started running & going to Row-Fit, which was really fun!
Found a new house for all of us to move into.
Drew the International NHS Health Expo in Manchester, that was so rad!
Drew more stuff for TalkTalk
Got the HEADACHE from hell (which I still have as I type this).
Had my first ever A&E admission [for worst headache ever], nothing like spending a night on an Emergency decision ward to make you appreciate the affects of life on people.
Went to NYC – got to see my friends exhibition, privately, and we got so drunk in the depths of Bushwick. I ended up seeing my first Brooklyn Bridge Sunrise (drunk), and worst hangover to date. I also had to take a plane to Vegas, hungover. So a bunch of firsts. It rained so hard that trip that I had to throw away my running sneakers.
Saw my mom get married! Yay!
Went to Vegas from NYC – met with my great USA friend, Leah, and we had LOTS of including sneaking into pools and beach-pools that we weren’t supposed to & I accidently tipped a pool-boy $20. Call me generous.
Got Shingles – which I thought were bedbugs from NYC/Vegas – duh.
Sat some more exams which I passed pretty awesomely if I do say so myself.
DREW THE AMAZING SHEFFIELD DOC/FEST!!!
More clinical placement antics. Really don’t remember anything of any value here. Just work, work, work.
Got hit by a car & was pretty traumatised by it.
Was in our first ever HUGE house fire.
Started skateboarding again because my bike was fucked up.
Spent the last weeks of July trying to desperately do a whole years worth of ePortfolio in 6 weeks total. (I won’t be doing that again!)
Designed a website for my friend and her exhibition at YorkshireSculpturePark
Passed palliative case discussion.
Got a super dope mark (SURPRISINGLY) for ePortfolio
Got mega cheap flights to USA – So went back to NYC & saw all my friends at Camp in New Hampshire!
Got Shingles AGAIN.
Got another old-puppy – Finnley the Border Collie!
Was made a recluse because of Shingles.
Finished clinical for a bit – went back to uni. Moved back to Sheffield properly (rather than living in Leeds)
Did my first Pecha Kucha Talk! YAY!
Had an awesome house party!
Gemma left for New Zealand.
Drew stuff for University of Derby
Had an awesome Halloween pumpkin carving party at Charlottes!
WE ORGANIZED & HOSTED RAD conference successfully – YAY!
Drew stuff for Uni of Sheff
Had the bestest Thanksgiving!
Went to Copenhagen & saw so much awesomely designed stuff!
Had an awesome Christmas!
HOPES FOR 2015
- That my mom, bro, nan and friends are all super happy, heathy and that NO ONE DIES! Including ME! But I would die instead of the above people if it has to come down to that.
- Last year, and the year before that I asked for a job that I enjoyed. I ended up getting at lots of cool small ones! So thank you 2013 & 2014 for amazing job years; PLEASE New Year help me find these golden eggs of opportunity and help me reach my potential. Help me make GREAT/BETTER impressions at the places where I currently work. Let me move small mountains. Please find extra work to fund me through uni. Please find me more amazing opportunities. Let me be BETTER. WORK HARDER. Even more so, PLEASE provide me with opportunities to help others and to make a positive difference! Esp. in radiotherapy.
- Make extra time for friends, make sure i actually see friends who live else where. Don’t let money define this.
- This year I need to be more motivated. Be more time-focused. Less TV and more drawing. More studying less sleeping. This is also very, very do-able if I just organize my priorities too! I need to make more great art-works rather than just research and develop ideas that never get shown. I need to remember the stuff I learn in class! I need to be more confident in clinical.
- I really really hope that i can make a positive difference this year, help others that need it, and make the world a place i’m proud to live in.
- More teaching opportunities PLEASE! This is a must if i want a chance at achieving number 5! too
- I would like to interact with people better, so I can communicate effectively and be wayyy more better and likeable esp for clinical placement.
- As with any artist, any exhibition/residential/print opportunities no matter how small or little they may seem all adds to the endless cannon of critical thinking and art practice!
- I need to become more motivated to learn my material… I can only make the difference I want to make if I am disciplined enough to sit down and dedicate the time to master my craft. Please give me the strength, the focus and the motivation – and mostly the energy to do this!
- I just want to feel normal again. Like not have bone ache, or nightsweats, where i could get up in the morning and not feel insanely hungover despite not actually touched alcohol in weeks. I want to not feel SUPER tired for NO reason anymore. I want to be fit, i want to be healthy again, i just want my body and health back from circa 2006 (that was a good year ha!) I’d even take health back from circa 2010/early 2011.
- I’d like to take up running, agaaaaiiiinnnn. By the end of the year I want to run 10K – like a fit person.
- I know I can’t travel like I have done previous years, but I would absolutely love to visit USA again & do lots of small local EU travelling like to Italy!
Thanks 2014 for a dope year, 2015 I know you’ve got my back. Here’s to hard-work, game changing, trying to stay focused, fighting against the ordinary daily events, challenges and finding ways or re-focusing when things might not work out exactly as we might want them to. TO FRIENDSHIP yo!
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
My bike (which I made from scratch) is pretty mushed up from when I got hit by a car 2 weeks ago. The front wheel is about as damaged as my ribs. As a result I was feeling pretty lost at getting from A to B. Sure I can walk, but it’s slow and boring. I could take the bus but it’s expensive. I need to do the excerise too. I’ve never been a fan of walking about, unless it’s a new place or in a city, like NYC where everything is a sight to be savoured. But generally, I’d rather take my bike instead. Nothing beats having the wind in your hair, the sun in your eyes, the burn from a mad-dash up a hill, or the adrenaline of riding down a steep hill at 30-40MPH.
No bike, I was stumped. Until I remembered that I had my skateboard that I bought whilst living in Brooklyn during the summer of 2008. It was a way to ensure I’d get invited by skaters to rooftop BK parties. And I wasn’t in a position to turn down friends. I’d practice riding the -then – not very busy industrial streets of Williamsburg, of course now it’s really busy down by the waterfront. And if you’re not getting hit by a car you’re probably getting run down by some dude on a fixie.
So it’s been a while since I took my skateboard out. My mom had hidden it in the depths of the cupboard where inanimate objects and old clothes go to die. I waited until I could lift my hands higher that my clavical without wincing in pain, and decided to take out the skateboard. I’ve certainly lost my confidence in riding, but mane, nothing beats the sound of skateboard on concrete.
Last night I went to my local leisure center. I know it closes at 4pm on a Sunday ensuring an empty parking lot. And honestly, I feel back in love with skating. There’s a freedom to it. A control. A beauty between architecture, being and balance. It’s almost zen like. I honestly can’t remember the last time I was content with just riding up and down and around a parking lot. Just doing something relatively banal which feels so exciting! I feel like a child again trying to master something for the first time.
I’m quite excited to start taking the board from A to B again. Skateboarding produces space, but also time and the self. I’m reminded of The practices of everyday life, which in everyday space, are rich in agency, invention and subversion, as much as they are habitual, controlled and restricted. Such practices produce and reproduce social space in ways that are both planned and unforeseen.
Here’s some of my favourite videos that I’ve found that really capture that playful, architectural production of space and time. It makes me really want to go back to America.
It was my good friends birthday yesterday. She turned only 19 years old. Still a baby. Although 19 was only 6/7 years ago for me, it seems so much longer. Being in your mid-20′s isn’t that old, but I feel like I’ve aged 2 lifetimes in the past 3+ years, I feel like I’m ageing in dog years. Maybe ageing like that makes you look back a bit more.
As I was out with my young course friends, I thought about what I’ve done so far in and with my life. And what getting older kind of feels like.
Philosopher Alain De Botton tweeted today that ” ‘Growing up’ in many ways a long process of learning to put up with stuff. Eventually, even the idea of dying.”
I came from an incredibly poor family, mostly it was just my mom, my bro, and me with my nan popping in often. As a result I didn’t have many things considered as “cool” growing up. My clothes were cheap, and shabby. I was a bit weird, I loved hip-hop and animation as a 8 year old. I had this incredible imagination. And I was kinda fat. This made me such an easy target to be bullied every-single-day up to high school. I tried my very best to be “cool” and “likeable”, but we didn’t have the money and when I did save up to get some “cool things”, the clothes looked weird on me. It looked insincere & wrong. Luckily, time and age taught me to slowly accept myself and follow what I like. And the strangest thing was, the more I accepted myself, the less grief I got from my fellow bully students. In fact, almost the opposite happened. I got more respected, and more known once I had accepted myself. Funny thing that, self-acceptance.
After my GCSE’s, we were made homeless (for too many reasons) for 6 months. We lived with my nan for a few months, until her landlord knew she was over exceeding her limit of people in the house. And then we went from temporary accommodation to temporary accommodation, all whilst I was trying to study for my AS levels. We finally busted the system and got enough points to get a council house. Crazy point: being homeless doesn’t give you enough points on the system to be eligible for a council house. Or it didn’t in 2004/5. How fucked up is that? I remember at the time being incredibly embarrassed about this. I didn’t tell a soul for months. But it just reinforced my love for Marxism and social justice. I was voted, by the whole of Doncaster by kids, to be a Youth Councillor for the Donx Youth.
I lasted about 8 months (and resigned) when I realised we didn’t really do that much except organize fun pizza parties.
I met Ed Miliband, he was the new MP the North Doncaster then. My friend & I had gone to complain about UCAS taking our money and then not processing our applications making our application late, and after the deadline – potentially affecting our uni offers (It didn’t). I stated it was because we’re working class, and the system was against us (Marxist in me). Of course, it was just a person not doing their job correctly, some clerical error. I can’t remember what he said he’d do. But I do wonder how many 16/17 year olds go to see their MP these days? You guys really should if you have an issue!
Ed asked, since he was new to the area, if I could organize for him to come to our school. I was pretty stoked with this & ended up doing a lil work with Ed. I had no idea back then that he could be the potential prime minister of 2016! (Hopefully, eh?!) – People, strangers, you meet will always surprise you. Everyone has a story.
I then was head-girl of the school in 6th form, and then also got excluded (for political reasons) as Head-Girl. I was also embarrassed about this. But as time has gone on, I realized just how kind of awesome it was. And it’s just another crazy story I get to tell. This taught me that the system, if it really wants to, will make sure you’re screwed over if you try and disrupt corrupted power.
As soon as I turned 15 my mom made me get a job. I didn’t even want one. And earnt a measily £2.50 per hour of my life. I knew my time was worth more than watching kids throw plastic balls at each other and fish dirty nappies out of the ball-pool. But as I got older, I realised why my mom made me do it. 1.) to instil a sense of labour and work and pride in earning your own way. 2) to learn how to interact with people you may never interact with outside of that environment. I swapped the wacky warehouse for scraping chicken fat off trays at ASDA in the rotisserie for 2 years every weekend & some more, but for £8.50 an hour. Not too shabby for a 16/17/18 year old. I saved all my money from this job, & EMA and took my mom to NYC for her birthday. It’s one of the best trips I’ve ever had.
I went to study Fine Art at university, I’m not sure how I came to decide to go to university as I’m the first person & so far the only person who has gone to uni in my whole family. It’s something that was never discussed. I just came home one day & was like, oh I’ve applied to university! Like I’d just subscribed to a mailing list. I remember feeling very casual about it. I even thought that once I got to university, that I wouldn’t be smart enough, get home-sick and drop out.
But I was pretty wrong. I ended up bulking up my time an extra year & getting a BA & a MA. I didn’t really return home for longer than 3 weeks for 4+ years.
My first uni year I applied to do Camp America. I ended up being placed on an island in the middle of a beautiful, clear water lake surrounded by mountains and trees in New Hampshire. Once I arrived to USA, I stayed in an industrial part of New Jersey for a night, I had to catch another bus at 5:30am to take me to port authority bus station, NYC, where I had to catch a greyhound bus to Boston, switch to another bus in Boston to a Fullers Gas station in Meredith, NH. (a lonely, virtually empty – and closed gas station when I got there) Where a complete stranger from the camp was to meet me, alone. I felt like I was some tame, none-drug induced version of Jack Karoac’s On The Road at age 18/19. The age my friend just turned.
I had a decent enough time at the camp, but I felt like an outsider in a very -family orientated family camp, enriched in family tradition – where everyone had been brought up together. I counted the days down to when I could leave and be back in NYC. The strangest thing was, once I got to NYC for a whole week. I felt incredibly lonely. I hadn’t realized that I had accustomed myself to Sandy Island life and friends. That’s the thing about time, it punishes you later for wishing away your time.
I decided to do live my fantasy of “On The Road” I had about $500 in my pocket from my camp summer job and a flight home from LA. I was still in NYC. So I took a bus to DC (I didn’t have any sort of game plan, don’t ask how I was planning to get to LA?!) but ended up meeting some people around my age who were going cross country in a van and camping. They asked if I wanted to join them so I decided to tag along. We did > DC > West Virgina and went Wild Rapid Boating > Virgina > Tennessee > Alabama > New Orleans — where my identity was stolen and I was fruaded and had no $$ in my bank account. At this point I had about $150 to last me. I cried. I had no idea what to do. But thing is, things work out. I was with good people. My mom wired me $80 >> we moved onto Texas, survived a mild hurricane >> Hitch-hiked over the border to Mexico, got really drunk and had to beg my way back into the USA >> New Mexico – saw some crazy bats > Went to Monument Valley and stayed on Native American land. I’ve never seen skies so clear. I slept outside on the ground in my sleeping bag instead of the tent – not even thinking about scorpions and crazy spiders and snakes that could have been hanging around – to sleep under the milkyway >> Went to Zion – hiked angels trek, and through rivers, went to Grand Canyon and we partied so hard we got asked to leave. >> We went to Vegas where I fake-ID’d my way into clubs, and bought nothing because well I had no money. But my new travel buddies help to pay for my liquor. We did a limo and ate at this super cool sushi place just off the strip. My first ever sushi experience> We drove to LA where we drank in a dive bar just near downtown LA, under a bridge. I felt like I was in some indie movie. This was the last night I saw my travel buddies. They were carrying on to San Francisco. I had my plane to catch.
That was the last time I saw them. I’ve seen a few of them since and we’re all still friends on Facebook. But this taught me to talk to strangers, take calculated risks, some times not having plans works out way better than having a rigid plan.
I once lived in this hip-apartment in Williamsburg one summer, that over looked the NYC skyline with a bunch of cool people doing internships for MTV, Saturday Night Live and The Onion – all on their daddy’s $$$ funds. I was funding my own dream. One of the dudes is an upcoming comedian on the West Coast and was in that Oscar winning Ben Affleck movie.
We were a mixed group of kids, with high energy, big dreams. Wide-Eyed in NYC. I ended up working for some of the most amazing and awesome people who changed my life in a then Chelsea Gallery. I remember how hot a NYC summer is… Coldplay Vida viva song was hot shit too. That album & Chris Brown Forever always takes me back. I asked M, the gallery boss, what her story was, how did she and her husband open the gallery. She spoke about communist Poland, trips to Chicago that made her fall in love with NYC, a burning love for art & art-history, selling shoes, joining rich upperside ladies visiting studios and collections, borrowing money & opening their first gallery that’s still going strong 28/29 years later.
I remember every single piece of art in that summer show and if I even really think about it – how much each piece of art was being sold for. I’ve never been so upset about leaving a job (even though it was so short), some people, a place before that. But one of my distinctive memories is my last day there, i walked out of the gallery, turned left walked down to 9th ave, kind of holding tears back looking up at a clear blue hot sky. I walked to the first working pay-phone I could find to call home to my mom to say how i was so happy that i had this amazing opportunity, but how sad I was to leave. I thought that I’d probably never see the Postmasters crew again, I thought I’d get forgotten about because that’s how my life was/is… Important people just fleeting between moments.
Luckily, I get to go and see them every year and this makes my heart so happy.
I left NYC and worked in a bookies (betting shop), trying to gain back the money I spent on my NYC wild adventure. I learnt how to bet, how to calculate all different bets like round robins and how to really bet on horses. That a favourite horse is statistically 33% to come in at a meeting, if you’re willing to chase your money around. I learnt how to follow soccer and do football bets. A great way to make money if it accumulates! I saved enough money to take an amtrak train ride across USA the same summer with my good friend shivvers.
She made me a rule. I couldn’t talk about art the whole journey. I suspect that’s all I was bothered about back then. We stayed in the Bellagio Hotel in Vegas courtesy of her dad. Shivvers wouldn’t even let me open the mini-bar so we created our own from mini’s from the vegas giftshops. We had a cab driver who had some sort of turrets and cursed death on every driver he drove past. I learnt that it takes about 3 whole days to take a train from LA to Chicago, and that you should pack spare clothes and not just check them all in. There was a guy who was giving strangers Tattoos on the train (certainly not us). We sat on the train, making up our own before sunrise stories up for all the strangers. 2008 was a good year. I keep telling the kids on my course that 20 was one of the best years of my life.
I taught spanish kids english in Hastings for what I think was the Spanish Mafia. They paid me about £400 a week in fresh £50 notes, cash. I’d take it to the bank and every time panic that they might question me. They never did but I was sure they thought it was dodgy money. These Spanish kids were clever, and spoke many languages. They learnt quick. I remember my favourite and most promising student failing her exam. She was the only one out of all 16 kids I taught, but I felt a sense of responsibility & guilt for it. That I was the reason why she failed. Perhaps it was nerves. Perhaps it was my teaching. perhaps we were both complacent. I often wonder what they’re up to now and how their English is.
I went to Chicago and worked on social art projects, and at the university of Chicago. I saw proper Labour Activist movements, I worked with real poor communities. I wrote things for great art magazines. I lived with people who worked at the MCA and Hyde Park Contemporary Art Center. I saw Obama’s house, I saw the Home Alone house, I had my first ever real Thanksgiving, and lived through the coldest weather I have EVER EVER walked through (about -20). These experiences woke something up in me, I went back to standing true to what I loved doing. Drawing and comedy and truths.
I wanted nothing more than a 1st class degree in art, but I couldn’t figure what I was missing to push my grade in to the first category. When I decided to go back to what I love, not worrying too much about the marking criteria, I finally graduated at the last hurdle with that hard worked for first class degree. Another lesson to be learnt. Sometimes you need to stick to your guns and your integrity. Don’t just do something to please others or because you think it will sell. People can see if it’s not true. And remember not everything that glitters is gold.
I have since never had to use my degree. No one has ever asked to see it, except when I went back to study. i do remember my art lecturer sending me an email telling me what I got. my heart was practically in my mouth, I opened the email using Boltbus free slow wifi on a bus from NYC to Boston (On my way to work back at camp some 3 years later from my first experience). I was stoked. I just wanted to tell the world! But I was travelling alone, so I did the next best thing. I wrote an email to my mom, a few select friends, to M at Postmasters and to a past lecturer michael corris who I looked up to in many different ways.
The first year after graduating with an art degree can be pretty hard. They never really tell you that, you assume it will be hard but you’re hopeful that it won’t. I graduated in the thick of the new recession. people were loosing their jobs left, right and center. Companies were being acquired or forced into bankruptcy. I got lucky and worked part time in a bookstore with another group of amazing people. Nothing prepares you for the doubt that you feel about following what you love when you consistently get rejected. But with rejections come some lessons. Lessons turned into opportunities and more opportunities and more lessons to learn from.
Things started working out for me with making a basic living with art and drawing. And then I started feeling all funny. I experienced fatigue like I’ve never experienced in my life, I was having these drenching nightsweats, I couldn’t eat, I had nose bleeds constantly, I had pretty bad bone-pain. It felt like flu-like symptoms but without the flu. I went back to the USA where I ended up being told it looked like Lymphoma. Cancer. I was like, fuck.
My whole life view was flipped upside down. Things that I thought was important didn’t seem as important as they once did. The unimportant things felt way more important. Time felt heavy. I had to grasp, in that moment, that my life and everything I’ve known will eventually blink away in a matter of decades, if not years, if not hours, and I will cease to exist. Which is hard, because when you’re young – you feel kind of invincible. Like you can put things off, because there’s always tomorrow, next week, next year. But there’s isn’t always more time.
Things carried on as normal though. As if nothing had changed. Which can be the most annoying thing ever, because I guess I’m still hurting and I want change. I want more urgency in things. I learnt from being unwell to ask for help if I need it. We can’t do everything on our own. I decided to learn from these experiences and use them to make a difference, so I went back to university and I am now studying Radiotherapy & Oncology.
I got hit by a car on my bike 2 weeks ago and broke & bruised my ribs. I flew over my handlebars and through air, I flipped upside down and landed on my neck. And I realized that there’s far more probability in me dying from being hit by a car than most other things.
So, what does it feel like to be older?
From time to time something reminds you of the past. Things hurt that never hurt before. Music was definitely better 10 years ago than it is right now. You start to buy things because they wash well, and shoes because they’re much more comfortable to wear. Time goes way faster. Experiences mash together like a tie-die. Leaving only horrendous memories and those euphoria, bucket-listy, nice moments that help build who you are in this very moment. There’s nothing much else in between.
When you get older, things you thought were important when you were younger aren’t as important and those things you thought were unimportant become more urgent.
I’m left looking at my younger course friends, what life experiences are in store for their next 6/7 years on this life, and just how much different a 19 yr old mind & body feel like compared to a 26 yr old mind/body.
I ended my friends birthday with this thought: What if we celebrated our expected years left instead of our years already spent?
The medical term for tiredness is “Fatigue”. It covers basically any word that could be used to describe tiredness – from exhaustion, lethargy, and listlessness, ect. It covers both physical and mental tiredness. Often both impending into each other, if a person experiences physical tiredness for long enough, it will often create a mental tiredness too.
Many of us will suffer at some point, generally, with tiredness. A fatigue. Some people, unfortunately, with chronic fatigue. Statistically, globally about 10% of the whole population suffer from insane fatigue.
But I propose a difference needs to be made.
As someone who is now trying to learn all the correct medical, difficult to say & spell latin terms, for certain presenting signs and symptoms a person may experience; and as someone who is constantly, endlessly feeling run down fatigued, I now believe that there should be a huge difference between the definition that describes tiredness and fatigue. That tiredness should be tiredness, and fatigue should mean extreme tiredness.
I remember ‘just’ tiredness well. It’s like an old friend, a recent distance memory. Tired to me meant that when you woke up after 8+ hours sleep, you would feel somewhat refreshed. Ready to go! Tiredness means that when you yawn, you know you can continue on, perhaps slower than before but you can continue. Tiredness means even though you want to go to bed, you can still do your tasks. There’s a reserve there. Just like when your car’s low gas warning light comes on. You know you have a good few miles before you really need to get gas. That’s tiredness, you can keep on going, regardless.
Fatigue is a different ball game. Fatigue almost ruins your quality of life. And it’s confusing as hell.
Many of my patients going through cancer treatments complain of tiredness, fatigue. They talk about it in past tenses; “I used to be able to walk Adrain’s wall, now the thought of walking any distance is overwhelming.”
The thing is, I can totally relate to that feeling of overwhelming fatigue. If you try and explain it to someone who is lucky enough to never experience this extreme tiredness, fatigue, they think it’s the same as normal tiredness. And it’s not. A lot of people actually think it’s a mind over matter thing, that you could probably feel less tired if you wanted to, and it’s really not.
What makes it more difficult in us being able to define levels of fatigue is that it can’t really be scientifically or chemically measured. And if medical science has taught me anything, it seems that we’re pretty much all about evidenced based practice in chemical numbers, rather than patient-centered-based-evidence in emotions, experience and feelings.
The thing is, there seems to be very little in combating extreme fatigue. Normal tiredness, you can sleep and more often than not feel better and re-energized afterwards. No amount of sleep relieves you of the tiredness in extreme fatigue. Extreme fatigue makes you feel like you’re being slowly poisoned, that someone is pushing your head down below water. That if you were a Windows PC, you would run like you were full of firmware & viruses; frustratingly slow and lagging, delayed in every thought and movement.
I think I’ve read a lot of research papers, and looked at and tried A LOT of things that are supposed to help with fatigue. I knew I had problems when I started considering illegally trying to get a hold of some Adderall RX as one of the side-effects is feeling energized and less tired & concentration. I didn’t, mainly because of the apparently addictive qualities. I can’t be doing with that. But I would literally do anything just to get back to my old energy levels, or even just close to them.
The advise we offer during in clinical to our patients is, if you can do some light exercise, do it. It’s the same advice in chronic fatigue, to keep active rather than let the fatigue consume you. This is tricky business though. The fatigue has already consumed you. Do too much, and you can end up setting yourself up for a weighty fall. Do too little, it doesn’t contribute all that much. And of course, the actual act of getting up and doing it sometimes seems more of a work-out than anyone would know.
I invested in sleeping apps to analyse my sleep. On those lucky relatively painless, night-sweat-less nights I’m literally dead in my sleep. I sleep like a good baby. So I know I sleep well.
I’ve seen 3 different “healers”. I’ve done the whole positive thinking, in denial, ignorance, rest, unrelentless bed rest, routines, sleep. I’ve had Raki. Tried massage. Tried Physiotherapy (until he told me he wanted me to be re-evaluated). I’ve done some yoga. I’ve bought so many fitness & health apps, you wouldn’t believe. I bought a Nike+ Fuel Band to motivate me to do more exercise, like running. I joined row-fit & hurt my shoulder even more. I try and ride my bike anywhere I can. All of this is hard because running up 2 flight of stairs makes me out for the count. I changed my diet to include even more veg and fruit. I dropped soda (most of the time) and swapped it for tea. I picked up a specially imported Yerba Mate Tea for the caffeine. I tried multi-vitamins that changed my bowel habits, and energy drinks that just ended up making me sick. I even pretended to be a smoothie maker business to be able to buy 45 packets of frozen puree Acai Berry because in the UK you can’t buy it ANYWHERE. Just in watered down juice form and power and capsules. Apparently Acai Berries are a super fruit that has so many amazing qualities in them to make you feel healthier. There are other things I can’t even remember that I’ve tried. Most of them were in the USA because those dudes are craaazzzyyy over there with their alternative medicines!
And after all of this. I still feel like shit. I can’t even begin to think about all of the money and time I have wasted chasing all of these things, hoping and wishing that it would be the thing that would eventually work. I wish I could tell you that some of this made a difference. And perhaps I am being a lil’ too hasty here. I do feel a bit of an energy improvement after I’ve exercised, but it decreases fast soon after those hormones have disappeared, and the crash is sudden and very real.
I go to bed tired.
Wake up in the middle of the night, tired.
Wake up in the morning, tired.
And I feel wussy talking about it, because what’s the big deal about being tired? Except when it lasts days, weeks, MONTHS. When it makes it hard to motivate myself to do anything, when I can’t work, can’t function, and can’t ever not feel tired. But writing this always feels therapeutic.
So, this is why I think it’s important that we understand that there are core differences between being tired, and being significantly fatigued. And that we need to assess just how it affects others lives. I know when my patients say to me, “I’ve been feeling so tired, so fatigued.” They’re saying to me that they just don’t feel like themselves. I get it.
And that’s what real fatigue does to you. It makes you question everything you was, and why you can’t be that person any more – the person who could multitask until 3am and get up in the morning and be totally cool about it. My old normal life is running current me into the ground.
And it’s not depression either. Because you’re not unhappy. You don’t feel sad. You just feel ridiculously tired. And when that fatigue really hits, you can’t even muster a word. You almost have to crawl home because you have no reserves left, you just have nothing left to give. And This is no exaggeration.
A friend said to me the other day about someone else & their tiredness, “I think maybe it’s a mind over matter thing”. And I flipped out, it’s a sore point for me. I tried explaining these thoughts of mine on a need for us to differentiate between tired and fatigue. And stand by it.
Because there’s nothing worse than feeling like you’re not only letting yourself down, but letting down others, your friends and co-workers, because you can’t muster the energy and enthusiasm you owe them and owe your work.
In extreme fatigue you just end up asking yourself, how do I pick myself when I have nowhere else to go from here?
There’s no foothold, nothing to firmly place your hand upon to hoist yourself up again. How does one recover from extreme fatigue when all the above doesn’t seem to work or fails and there’s no support system in place that understands this detrimental ailment?
How do you start over again?
1. ABSENTATION: A member of a family leaves the security of the home environment
Picture: It’s a few years ago. I left for America. I love America. Except I wasn’t leaving home on my usual terms. I was feeling super run-down. I had been having nightsweats, bone pain, this insane fatigue that wouldn’t subside. The UK doctors told me it was just a “mono-style virus”, so I left for work & adventure. Except my boss in the USA was having none of me just waiting out the virus. She made me see a doctor, who made me see a haematologist oncologist, who then told me it looked bad & that I needed to go home & get it sorted ASAP.
I didn’t though. I thought that this guy is talking shit. I ran away from this statement. I suddenly felt the weight & value of time. I did a pretty amazing YOLO roadtrip visiting 3 coasts of America with friends, all with that thought in the back of my mind.
In my younger days, I studied Media Studies as one of my A-Levels (& got an A, of course). We looked at a crazy Russian Literary Formalist called ladimir Yakovlevich Propp who came up with something called Morphology of the Folktale which basically looks at breaking up fairy tales into sections and 31 functions/options of resolution and narrative. His elaborate categorisations of classifications pegs plots points: tricky, guidance, rescue, ect.
Propp claims that you can shuffle any of these into constant rearrangements. They mark a moment where an action takes us in a different direction. It’s a nice way to to look at disruptions. He says everything proceeds from us loosing our place.
2.) INTERDICTION: An interdiction is addressed to the hero
We’re out of order and we’ve hardly begun. I was instructed to not stay in the USA and wait out what was happening to me. But I did.
3.)VIOLATION of INTERDICTION. The interdiction is violated (villain enters the tale).
The villain and hero here are both myself. The villain is an illness. A feeling of ill-health. A feeling that has slowly taken over and taken everything that was me. I was just in my early 20’s. I had never been properly sick. Sure I had colds and sore-throats, and sickness bugs – but this felt different.
I was a self-absorbed young adult with gritted determination to make it in the art world. I had learned to be different, to try harder – no matter who I left behind. I had started to get just a tiny-lil bit cock-sure of myself. Just a tiny-tiny-bit. I had just got a prestigious artist residency at Site Gallery when I got hit.
I’d arrived somewhere without being invited. Maybe I didn’t have the right to be in that place. Maybe that didn’t make it right that I fell ill, but maybe I wasn’t purely innocent either.
4.)RECONNAISSANCE: The villain makes an attempt at reconnaissance. The villain (often in disguise) makes an active attempt at seeking information.
There was no tricky. But there was deception. For months and months, and months, this illness hid away. Making itself really hard to put a name to. To be recognised. But, it knows who I am. It knew I stayed up working until late, that I was fairly active. It fed on my inability to get rid of it.
8.) VILLAINY or LACK: Villain causes harm/injury
The illness took virtually nearly everything. I no longer can work all day and stay up. It made me work less, sleep more, which in turn made people forget about me, helped me to ruin my own reputation I had worked so hard to get. It made me bleed in places I never knew I could bleed. I have days where I literally feel like I might be dying, I catch myself looking super tired & worn-down in pain in a mirror & saying to myself: “I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok”. I’ve lost days, weeks, months of my life. I’m still having pain which no one understands. This makes me feel alone.
17.) BRANDING: Hero is branded (wounded/marked, receives ring or scarf);
I was branded. I have no scarfs or rings but emotional scars & a few physical ones. Somethings have shifted under my skin. Emotions and lymph nodes. Things pressing on things which present as neuralgia or headaches or bone aches or passing outs. Swellings around memory, swellings around my intellect and pride which hurts.
14.) RECEIPT OF A MAGICAL AGENT: Hero acquires use of a magical agent
Through this struggle, my whole world view changed. I gained this whole new perspective, this whole new weight of the importance of empathy. Before, I now realise, I had little empathy – towards everything. I wasn’t a dick or anything, but I didn’t or couldn’t understand others plights – because I was so blinded by myself. I just understood the system that affected others, not HOW it made them feel & how that affects them.
I am more thankful. It’s just not in the way that’s immediately assumed. I am grateful for the pain, because now I understand it better. I am grateful for the struggle, because I can be of more use to those in the midst of it.
29.) TRANSFIGURATION: Hero is given a new appearance
I used to only work in art stuff. Now you can find me in both the art-world and in healthcare. I wanted to re-train myself to work in healthcare to both give back, and to be the person who understands because I felt (and still do) misunderstood on how the villain really affected my quality of life. The central question I now ask myself is “What’s the relationship between caring and understanding?”
When I think about my life in these terms I see all kinds of functions that I never asked for: struggle, challenge, trickery, frustration. There’s some fighting, and a lil bit of winning. The gold-dust comes in the realisation of personal-growth and amazingly supportive friendships along the way.
The materials of my life, as memory recalls and deforms them, will always involve the villain: the stranger, the illness.
When I casually drop into conversation to people that I’m studying radiation oncology, as well as still working as an artist, and still feeling shockingly poorly, they look shocked. They think it’s a huge turn, or that art must not be working for me. But it’s not really. I sit in class, reflecting upon my own life like text. I feel like i’m still constantly shuffling together pieces of a puzzle i can’t see the edges to yet.
There is no function designated for this last part. Where the hero turns to studying healthcare & medicine alongside art to try and understand her own hurt and use it to try and help her to understand others hurt.
23.) UNRECOGNIZED ARRIVAL
I could spend everyday like it was a holiday. I feel like I deserve to spend my life constantly on vacation. But you can’t. You have to return to normality. But this is hard. It’s hard to return to a familiar land, to return home, to do everything like you used to, when you no longer feel like yourself. Things have changed.
Donald Rumsfeld once said there are things you know and things you don’t. Sometimes you are aware of your ignorance and knowledge, other times you are not. This means that there are known knowns (the knowledge you know you have), known unknowns (your awareness of your blind spots), unknown unknowns (you are oblivious to that knowledge), and unknown knowns (the subconscious—that native knowledge you take for granted).
I use this a lot in art. It’s the thing that guides you. The bits of the subconsciousness shines through. You make decisions without really consciously knowing why you did it, but you know that it’s the right thing to do. But I got to thinking about healthcare in this setting, and in life and living in general. The “gut feelings” when you know something is wrong (or right), how to use empathy, and how you know what choices are the right choices.
About 3 months ago, I got major bad man-flu, which turned into horrific shoulder side pain, which turned into a crazy now 62 day constant headache, with now a side of Shingles. On top of everything else already going on with me. You guys know where I am if anyone wants me to buy them a lottery ticket. I’ve been having the worlds longest constant headache (i’m so sure it’s a Guinness world record – 62 days and counting). I went back to my GP to tell him it was day 50-something, with a crazy painful rash (which i thought was either allergic reaction or Bedbugs!) and the cool GP was like,”Yeah it’s shingles.” I knew what shingles were, like mostly old people get them, but I didn’t really know WHY I got them if they’re not contagious like chicken-pox. Motherfucking shingles. We high-fived.
From the printout he gave me, I learned that shingles comes out when your immune system is low enough, which is why it’s so dangerous for the elderly. My GP is always saying I’m stressed, or I work too much. I don’t think this, however. I’m now super suspicious that my headache could be shingles related. But how do you know?!
This shit reminds me not to take life and work too seriously. I will be like, remember that time when I ran myself down so much that I nearly gave myself half a numb face for life from the worlds longest headache because Shingles came out. That time i nearly blinded myself with Shingles. Plus, if you didn’t know, Shingles really hurtS, guys!
But here’s the thing, we know stress is bad for us. We know that we shouldn’t take life so seriously, all-of-the-time. But it’s a knowledge we know but never listen to. I get angry with myself, that I’m still feeling shit, that I’m still getting sick, that I’m still taking up peoples time with this stuff. But I hope I will always be frustrated from this stuff, because otherwise I think I’d be missing the point. We don’t know how much time we have been allotted in this world. And it’s an unknowing unknown that should help us to be more knowing about how we use our precious time.
And I tell you all of this, because it serves as a reminder to myself, but I also hope you can learn from my shingle-ness. Try and be less stressed/run-down so you don’t get unnecessary shingles.
I am completely fascinated with the the levels of what we know and un-know, and I’m going to let this help guide me through things.
This is going to be my first 4 days off – in a long time – in which I will literally be doing nothing & not have the guilt of not doing something like revising for exams (as I worked late to finish a crazy deadline this week). And you know what, I’m going to enjoy every single minute of not knowing and not having an agenda. And you should too.
I am lucky. I am extremely lucky because I have access to free healthcare, I have a loving family made up of my mom, bro & nan who support my crazy journeys through life, I have amazing friends who are practically like my family scattered over and across the world. I’m lucky because even though i feel kind of shitty & have a 58 day constant headache, & itchy spots across my body from probably stress-related immunity run-downness, I’m still able to do a lot of what I would do, whilst others are not so lucky. Most of all. I’m lucky to be alive.
But today I’m even more lucky because of the people I get to work with. The past few years, months, weeks, I’ve got to work with some amazing, inspirational, hard-working, make you want to be better people. It really started in 2008, when I worked at Postmasters Gallery in NYC. It was the time of my LIFE. It’s like number 1 of the best experiences of my whole life so far. It wasn’t just awesome because I was living the life I believed I wanted my life to be like at that time (NYC & just art-art-art!), but because the people I worked with changed how I thought, taught me what it means to be courageous and risk-taking & live with your passion and with integrity. Not only that, they showed me incredible kindness and made me feel like family. Like I was accepted. That was rare.
Fast forward a few years later, I worked drawing awards for Sheffield Doc/Fest in 2010. And it was an incredible experience. Like, makes you go wow. I was part of that, experience. It was here where they gave me the space and time and the experience to teach myself how to live-draw talks – something which allowed me to go freelance as an artist, and has given me a platform to be part of so many social-life-changing projects with so many cool people from NHS to the BBC. It’s been an incredible journey. And you know what made it more awesome, they asked me back, and they asked me back again, and again! I had never expected it. And I am so grateful and thankful every year. Sheffield Doc/Fest not only support filmmakers and app makers and website people, ect, but they they support their local community with so many cool projects, and grow support for all those involved. And the amazing people who work for doc/fest, both past and present, work so incredibly hard, with this unstoppable passion and hunger – just to make an amazing platform that really supports everyone involved and sheffield.
There’s not a blog post long enough to talk about all the amazing people I’ve been lucky enough to work with. But they’re amazing.
I know if could take anyone of these guys qualities, I’d become a better person.
So today, I’m thankful and blessed to be just this lucky to be here, working with Sheffield Doc/Fest and the NHS, and Sheffield Cube, and TalkTalk, and the BBC, and DyingMatters, and everyone else I’m currently or just worked with over the past few weeks/months.
Here’s some drawings I’ve done in my developement of drawing this years 2014 Sheffield Doc/Fest film awards. Go Sheffield!