A thought on females.

Recently I have been thinking about friendships, I won't go into detail about what brought it up but I have been home for the festive holidays for a few weeks now and had time to take stock of my friends here and my friends over in Salford. Of all my friendships in the past, my most precious friends are still here in Wigan. This isn't to say that I haven't made some amazing friends in Salford, but you don't build relationships in two years like the ones I have with my friends over my lifetime.

However, I believe there are different catagories of friends, and that they can be catagorised in different ways. For exmaple one way in which I recognise where I am upto on the frienship train is how far I am willing to go with that friend. That doesn't mean anything sexual in this context (I have recently found, that side of things is an entirely different kettle of fish) but in a way that actually extends outside of my comfort zone. For example, I know I am safe with my friends here in Wigan, but sometimes I don't want to be safe, I want adventure. If I am feeling adventurous, I will call on some of the fantastic friends I've made at Salford. There is something to be said about common ground in relationship building. I have had some amazing experiences while at university most of which have involved hard work. You don't go through a month's worth of intesive theatre work with a group of people, without developing a friendship which goes beyond face value (or I like to think so.)

I am allowing myself to get a little side tracked because I like talking about positive things, but in my musings I have come to realise that a trend has has been forming over the past few years which makes me feel uncomfortable.

Straight women treat gay men like toys.

I generalise for emphasis which is perhaps wrong of me, but whatever, its my blog. I understand that there is a link to my blog on my Facebook and am fully aware that there is a (very, very slim) chance of some of my very dear female friends seeing this and assuming the worst, so I feel before I justify what I say I should iterate that I am not meaning to be offensive and I love my friends dearly, but I am speaking from experience and cannot be more honest than this.

I can think of three four distinct situations when I have been dropped for a straight man. These are situations were the girl in question would supplement me for their boyfriend and then near cut off all ties and drop the things that even distant friends would do to spend time with their new partner. Before, they would insist I was the best thing in their life. We would go out or stop in together in the evenings, hang out, sleep over, do lunch, talk (alot) and share, share everything, all our worries and insecurities, we would reassure ourselves and support each other. Make each other laugh, be the best thing since sliced bread! The friendship would develop quickly and seem like an endless summer.

Then, inevitably, the summer would end. They find someone.

Your replacement.

"This happens all the time Sye" I would hear you say, were we having a quaint brew in the kitchen of my university accommodation (try it with a dash of cinnamon, its so festive!) I agree, it does. It does happen all the time to friends everywhere regardless of age or gender or sexuality, but not to me. To me, it happens when I get close to straight women, and only then. I have never experienced any of my male friends ditching all else for their partner. I'm not talking 'going out one night less a month' or 'not meeting me for lunch,' I mean dropped, like a dead pet. In once case, the girl went so far as to fully cut off all ties with me, after I was an incredibly good friend to her (as much as a friend can be, short of giving her a kidney.)

Of course I am far too good natured, kind, and otherwise generally not wanting to hurt the person I care about to mention this. "Oh by the way, you've forgotten all about me so thanks, but have fun in your new long term relationship" isn't the nicest thing to have to deal with, and more importantly it makes any apology following to mean absolutely nill. Talking about it to the person serves no purpose except to remind them what they have lost.It hurts every time, it doesn't matter that it happens all the time because its still painful to invest so much in a friendship, to have it all snatched away simply because the girl doesn't seem capable to split her focus.

Actually, its unfortunate in that sense. I like to think of myself as a good judge of character (even when people are clearly two faced or dishonest, it doesn't take me too long to get their number... practice I guess.) If I do make friends with a girl, I am slightly more arms length if she is a straight female who is single. Well, I always think I would like to be, but I am far too friendly for this to work. Perhaps this is another angle of dishonesty.

So to the girls who have loved and lost me I say this: Be happy, please. Please be happy with your new Sye, the one who can give you sex. Please make it work if things go bad and please don't be upset if things go worse than bad.

Because I won't be there when its over.

Email from accommodation...

________________________________________
From: Accommodation [Accommodation@salford.ac.uk]
Sent: 23 November 2010 14:49
To: [Sye] (UG); [Sye's email address]
Subject: Candles in rooms

DearMr [Sye]

On completing our recent room checking exercise, it was noted that there is a candle present within your room.  Your resident contract sets out your obligations and section 7Y clearly states that candles will not be used.  Because of this Health & Safety implication, your room has not been marked as Acceptable. A further room check will take place and, as long as the candles have been removed, your room will be marked as accepted.

Apart from the candle being present, your room was absolutely fine.

I hope you can support our concerns with students burning candles within their room and recognise the potentially serious health and safety implications.

Thank you

Site Services Assistants




________________________________________
________________________________________




Dear Site Services Assistant(s)

I apologise for my discretion in keeping a censer in my halls. I don't know what I was thinking, it must have been a moment of sheer madness, particularly given the dangerous nature of a covered tea light. I will of course remove the candle right away.

However, the censer's purpose is to mask the stale damp smell, I assume this is from the previous occupant as I do not think the walls are thick enough to conceal any dead bodies or rotten vegetables (I am not an engineer so feel free to correct me on this, again I apologise.) I understand completely that a candle in my halls is a high risk to all concerned, but the smell is bothersome. Almost to the point which I am willing to submerge my head almost entirely in water during my time in my room. I was considering adding some of my scented oil to the water, but this would probably make my hair greasy.

Is there a secret method unbeknownst to me to rid my halls of the smell of that 'foot-and-mouthy' musk? The censer does the trick without being overpowering and I only ever use it when I am both in my halls and awake, but as this is against the rules (again, I apologise) I will need to think of something else. Any suggestions are more than welcome, Cheers!

Kind regards,
- Sye Watts.

Dear man-across-the-road-from-me

Please do not leave your blind up when you are returning to your room from the shower. If you insist on carrying on with this behaviour, then please refrain from removing your towel before securing some sort of visual block aid between your genitals and my eyes.

I appreciate that this was simple an instance of coincidence. I was glancing down at your block of flats, you were de-robing in the vulnerable position of having returned from the wash room, presumably squeaky clean (although I didn't have my glasses on so, who knows.) It has not happened since, but I am somewhat nervous to look out of the window now as 'peeping tom' is not one of my many alias' and I intend to keep it that way.

It isn't that I do not find you attractive. Of course you are a little larger than the demographic would demand, but I find that oddly endearing in a person. Also you have a cute face. However, while I may sound hypocritical to those who know me, I am not one for glasses. A body without a name or a face or a laugh or a personality to it is nice, but it would have to be very nice indeed to justify a vigil at my window to catch a glimpse of you giving it all you've got, 'upfront.' If we cross eyes in the street at some point, I will not embarrass you by mentioning the incident. I am sure it sticks in your mind as much as it does mine. Feel free to introduce yourself at any point, it would be nice to put a voice and a name to the body, all of it. I feel our brief interlude shall simply have to remain a fleeting glance between the two halls containing us over the void of grass and earth between.

Good luck in your endeavours, and I hope to 'see' you under better circumstances sometime.

Regards
- Sye

PS: Tell the guy that lives two doors from you to the right, he is allowed to take his top off and dance around a little. As long as his blind is up, and I have my glasses on.

Is it time to change?

Life seems to be running much faster these days.

In the past month I have finished my theatre project (which, to be honest with you, I really can't be bothered reviewing. It was a wonderful experience and it went very well, it was a success, and I am happy to have done it.) Been out around Manchester of an evening, and been to a house party. To the average person my age this may seem normal, or at least as normal as student life should get, but I think you reading this will know that for me, this is out of character.

I think that is a very important word in this context, character. I have had a wonderful time with my course mates, and consider them good friends, but the things I have been doing seem very unlike me. I have been enjoying myself though, which can only be a good thing, so is it that it in fact IS like me to do these things but have never had the chance? Sure I would go out with friends around Wigan, we would go to the pub, then a club afterwards, and as I don't drink I'd leave somewhere around the 12pm mark, which is usually the point in which things start to get boring for me.

Is not drinking inhibiting me? I get mixed reactions from people whom hear me say 'I don't drink' the first of which is usually 'Why?' I don't know why I don't drink! Sometimes its easier to say 'Oh, I have a stomach problem' (which I do, called Helicobacter Pylori which basically causes severe heartburn at the drop of a hat, but is controlled by medication) because the sympathy vote is a much nicer reaction than that of disgust or condescension.

What alcohol does is very simple. In your head are a number of controllers, lets take for example Freud's id, ego and super ego stuff. The ID is everything you want to do, its your pleasure centre, it only wants the good stuff and none of the bad stuff and is essentially your inner caveman (if I can use such a vulgar term.) Ego is the sly devil who appeases the ID in way which satifies it, but also looks after you in the context of reality, so your Ego will seek pleasure for ID while making sure you stay out of trouble in the long run. Superego is the rules you know to be true, such as morality and law and all that gaff, so it informs the Ego and suppresses the more destructive parts of the ID, call it your conscience (again, vulgar term, don't quote me but you get the idea.) When your brain consumes alcohol, it turns off Superego and fucks Ego up, leaving you with a sort of semi-functioning understanding of the rules of reality, and an overwhelming desire for pleasure. It turns off the voice in your head which says 'This is why you shouldn't do this' and essentially flips your personality from everything you wouldn't do for whatever reason (and they would be down to your character) to doing whatever because you have no inhibitions.

You can probably imagine why I might be apprehensive about alcohol. Not only do I have a stupidly strong desire to please others, and feel painful guilt when I think I have let someone down, but there are also a lot of things I would never say or do, but which I would sure as hell like to. In this sense I am generally a dishonest person, oh sure I wouldn't lie in the sense of misleading people, but a lie of omission is still a lie. There are quite a few people I am attracted to on my course which is fine, because I am human, but being the person that I am I know I would l never do anything that might ruin a friendship, I value that much much more. Lets not forget that I am really weird when it comes to things like being touched, which I am trying my fucking hardest to get over, because it makes me feel so shit when I can't get involved with horseplay and such, all because of my fucked up head.

At the party last night, I was there from about 10pm till 2am, and I genuinely had a good time. I am still honest with my feelings, and so when people ask 'Are you having fun' I will answer honestly, and when I say 'Not really' I know its time to shake my ass home (rather than stay and bring everyone else down.) I know I am not very good meeting too many new people at once, or when I am in a situation with friends and there is a new person, I am quite shy really, and its taken me a while to put my finger on that. So the party carried on and everyone was having a good time, getting drunk, there was some weed smoking I think, and I was enjoying myself until something clicked in my head.

I think it was when I was sat down, in the room with the music, and watching some of the people there dancing. Some I knew well, some I didn't know as well but I still considered friends. I remember thinking 'I wish I had friends like these' and this internal dialogue started to play out...

'But these are my friends'

'I want to play too'

'Then why don't I'

...and that was it. I didn't have an answer. Why don't I join in? I'm sure I am invited to, as much as any of the others. What is wrong with me? I don't think I am above it, in fact if clowning has taught me anything its that being beneath it is much more fun. Is it because I am sober? I don't think so, but then I wouldn't know because I'm not drunk. Why can't I stop fucking THINKING about this shit and just do it?

Is it my character?

My character. I have constructed it, for better or worse. Sye is a conscious character, but a character none the less. We all wear masks, every one of us. We hide behind them, we are naked without them, in fact I am of the opinion that I have only ever been without some sort of mask when I was younger. When I was Simon.

This may sound Odd, but there was a change in me when I came out. I left high school as most people did, at 16. As soon as I left, I came out gay. From then on I had a confidence I could never muster in school due to bullying, and as a symbol of that transition to the new, funny, outgoing confident guy I had become, I took on the nickname, the mantra of Sye. The name isn't important mind, it was the definitive split between what I was and what I was going to be (so I thought.) Many people have the same transition, and its not just a gay thing, people have this transition in their first relationship, after losing their virginity, after their first night wasted at a party, they shrug off what it was that they were for a new, more socially acceptable and presumably confident lifestyle.

Maybe I haven't shrugged everything off. Maybe this social awkwardness and weariness of intimacy is that bullied little boy finding himself in deep water and unable to swim.

Its times like this when I thank god for the friends that I have.

I sometimes find myself lying to fit in. just little white lies which are nothing special. I've never done drugs, although I have tried smoking and, although an interesting sensation, I didn't get any benefit from it. I have never been in a romantic relationship, although I imagine there are many people with boyfriends or girlfriends who couldn't call their relationship romantic. Probably one of the reasons I feel so out of place and awkward is because all of these things happen around me, and I feel I need to justifying myself to be accepted (its easy for me to say that this isn't the case, but if I am honest, I am as susceptible to peer pressure as anyone else, and this is exactly what it is.)

I always had the belief that I love my friends far more than they love me, simply because I need them more. I was saying to someone recently, one trait within my family is that we all crave to be needed. We want people to be able to rely on us and in doing so, we justify our friendships.

Hmm, I think I have proven that I can talk on and on about this topic. I think its because I am looking for answers as much as informing you, the reader, of what it is I have already found. I will say this though; If you are my friend, and I have quite a few at the point, know that I love you. I love you, and you have me at your disposal because of that love, should you ever need me I will do my honest best to make your life easier, and make you smile. You are the best person at being who you are, and for that reason you are surrounded by those who love you, and this includes me.

You do not need to love me, you are not responsible for my happiness and I do not want you to worry about me.

Just be there. Be there and be you, that is all I ask.

† After proof reading this, I can see it has a certain 'Oh my life is shit, why am I such a dick head' tone to it. I am not looking for attention or sympathy here, please don't feel obligated to give me either. its the reason I will leave a room if I think I'm being a social hermit. My problems are my problems as with others and theirs. I write them down because it helps me understand myself sometimes.

I write them online because its cheaper than buying a diary, and its essentially an easy attempt at being more open about myself.

"Fear" workshop, final preperation day and first scripting session.

Today began as it meant to go on; promisingly. I find myself willingly waking up earlier and earlier as today I got up at around 8am, bright eyed and bushy tailed. I love winter mornings, I love winter in general actually, and so getting a lung full of fresh air as I make the morning stroll to uni is a wonderful wake-up call.

We continued this morning with the hybrid video/theatre piece, refining it as we hadn't had a chance to yesterday. We spent the morning scripting and shooting it, meaning we were able to get eye lines and back-and-forth dialog going much smoother and more refined. We didn't manage to perform the video in the end due to a mix-up with the rooms, but I am certainly proud of what we managed to accomplish. There was a little bit of a tiff involving a member of the group, but in general it didn't really effect the rest of the day. I was disappointed however, because if you have been keeping up, in my last post I mentioned one of the things which I really liked about this project was the camaraderie and the coming together of a successful ensemble. This seems to have been dashed, and whereas I am rather angry at what happened and the way it played out, I am professional and am treating this as just another bump in the road. We will all continue to work together, and will simply chose to associate with those we get on with outside of the projects time (you can probably tell I am somewhat peeved at what went on, but I'll leave it there.)

After lunch was a lovely long discussion whereby we began to discuss the narrative of the piece as a performance. I was really pleased at how we were able to bring the weeks worth or research material collecting into this one large discussion and highlight exactly how much we have managed to do in just a week.

We first discussed what we had done, day by day. We spoke about what it was in those particular studies that we found interesting and wanted to experiment with, and keep in the performance in whatever way it works out to be. We then spoke about methods in which we can apply what came as a result of research

I have never taken part in the division of a performance piece and was really pleased and excited at the progress we made. It wasn't dull or time wasting as such planning meetings can be (from previous experience) and actually I think we all had an equal amount of input, or rather the ones with a lot of ideas were able to inspire the people with few ideas, meaning we were able to share in the creation process. I understand that we are still a while away from a final piece, but the layer's and layer's this piece has already received gives me such hope that the end result will be an amazing piece of theatre, and a project I will be proud to have been a part of.

I'll be honest with you. I was going to write a rant about professionalism and good nature and all the things I am trying to master at university (in regards to the tiff which happened earlier today) but as I cannot be sure that parties involved are not reading the blog, I will not indulge myself. Also, even though it really made me angry at the whole situation (as it did involve me, and it shouldn't have) at the end of the day it didn't detract from the headway we made, and actually, it was probably just a bit of attention seeking in the case of the party involved, so I am better not rising to it*.

When you are angry, the best thing to say, is nothing at all (advice I did well to follow this afternoon.)

*When writing this, I was still going over the events of the day. It is now Sunday of the week after when I have access to the internet, and the events which this post details have since been resolved to the satisfaction of the group.

Cheerleading*, the case for.

Victoria Coren and Tony Parsons have recently written articles in the Guardian and Mirror respectively on what they think about Cheerleading.

Both seem to be jumping on some sort of anti-cheerleading bandwagon whom are only supported by their small fanbase, but even their arguements against cheerleading (for some reason, the fact that people enjoy cheerleading upsets them) are ludicrously personally bias and based on missguided assumptions from what they see on American TV.

Cheerleading is not a sport reserved entirely for pretty young girls. It is not something which is there purely for the entertainment of men, or the sexual gratification at the expense of the respect and dignity of the performers, because that is exactly what they are, performers. Its interesting where the definition is drawn between what is for the perverse pleasure of others and what is simply an appropriate thing to wear (they are usually pleasant to look at, eye catching, are breathable and generally allow for movement.) A cheerleader wearing a short skirt with shorts underneath and a long sleeve top is quite clearly a slut, whereas a swimmer wearing little more than a smile is an athlete...

Pictured: Acceptable sporting attire

Of course, this is only the case for women, which aforementioned journalists seem happy to comment on while ignoring the other side of the coin. I am tackling one side of the argument because of the lack of research these so called hournalists have put into the latter of their argument, that it is not a real sport. Men do real sports, right? Why can't women do real sports like football or rugby? Men are oppressing them, and so they are forced or voodoo-mind controlled into thinking that dancing for them in skimpy outfits while waving pompoms is as good as any other sport, the fools, damn those pesky men!...

Stop objectifying these cheerleaders!

The arguments of these opinionated media whores simply do not take into account that men and young men are involved in this sport, maybe not to the extent of women, but enough to merit a difference for an all girl, mixed, and all male stunting groups.

While we are on the subject of stunts, lets try and tackle this 'Its not a sport' issue. A report in 2008 discovered that cheerleading is the most dangerous sport for women (in America) and as it is the American style of cheerleading which is catching on fast. I have just found the following video of what has been going on this past year in America, and remember that cheerleading is nowhere near the scale over here as it is over there, but we are pushing to better outselves in this way and the techniques are often emulated...

Not Pictured: Sport...

...lets take a look at what is considered a sport:

• Angling
• Arm wrestling 
• Ballooning 
• Billiards 
• Bowls
• Clay pigeon shooting 
• Curling
• Darts 
• Folk dancing
• Health and beauty exercise
• Lawn tennis
• Life saving
• Orienteering
• Pool
• Skateboarding
• Skipping
• Snooker
• Yoga [source]

He's been training all his life!

Say what you want about cheerleading, but then next time I see the national Yoga championships take away people in stretchers for breaking large amounts of themselves, I'll eat my hat. Fact is, people do not know what cheerleading is, which is fine, hell I don't know the ins and outs of professional skipping, but that doesn't mean I launch feminist tirades or ignorant diatribes against it. So the clothing is a little shorter than a kimono, that's means that it is exploiting young girls? So there is dance and chanting involved, that means it is less a sport than something involving a ball? I pity those who cannot break their preconceptions. I imagine these people don't try yoga because its just a bunch of stretching and breathing, or that they think that its only a sport if there is an international cup to be won.

Try it, then tell us its not a sport.

*I am aware that in English, Cheer Leading is a two word phrase, but I use Cheerleading for the sake of arguement.

"Fear" workshop, day five.

Monday, thus beginning the second week of our performance project workshops. We are set to start devising the project on Wednesday, at the moment we are gathering resource material to work from and I am certainly pleased at the ground we have covered. I'd also like to take this opportunity to mention how pleased I am that the group has come together. We are all pretty much fully committed to the project now, which makes the idea of an ensemble actually seem not only plausible, but desirable, and achievable.

Today we started with a quick warm-up, then went straight into some character development work. We used visualisation again, this time we were told to close our eyes, and to imagine that it was the performance night; We are about to go on stage. What are we wearing? What is our hair like? Where about are we on the stage (or are we indeed off stage?) What kind of sounds could we hear? We then fed back to the group. I pictured myself concealed behind some sort of panel, centre stage. I was dressed in a pale blue hospital gown, my face was white and my features were contrasting against my pale skin. My hair was long and straight, possibly distressed looking and darker looking than usual, I could hear only silence.

We then got into groups by way of whoever we felt our characters were closer related to, so I ended up in a group with someone who pictured themselves clothed all in white, and someone in a gown which was covered in blood. We were to continue to develop our characters within these groups and possibly but then to a narrative or context. I found this exercise very difficult considering we had all pretty much gone for the mental patient, mine being one whom is totally devoid of sense, reason and reality, the other girl having been driven out of her mind by a demon, and the latter having killed her younger sister in a fit of jealousy (and therefore sanctioned.)

It was difficult because there is very little narrative you could do with people who were supposedly insane. They would have little motive and therefore little reason for conflict (which is where a story forms.) Really it was a good example of the restrictions and pitfalls to avoid when creative an interesting narrative, not to have characters that are too similar.

After before lunch, we looked into how magicians and mediums used techniques which were as much slight of hand and theatrics than any form of occult practice to instil fear into people. Largely rife in Victorian times when people were much sell sceptical and supposedly a lot more gullible, mediums would enter a persons house and use a number of tricks and illusions to convince the people in attendance that the séance was real. There are famous such people who did this quite convincingly, having 'ectoplasm' seep from orifices both reputable and perverse (certainly for the period) and people actually believed this was going on.

Then we had lunch, I had chips and gravy and even sprang for a Dr Pepper, it was good.

When we reconvened after lunch, we looked at a method of using technology to instil fear; Projection...

That piece is a little ambiguous, but really what it represents are the many possibilities! Imagine projecting someone elses face onto a neutral mask, or having a room full of living, speaking dolls. Or having one person dialog with themselves on stage through the use of multiple projections. This are certainly rolling in the ideas department, and today after looking into it, we used the characters we had developed earlier to experiment with cameras, and what we could do with the use of projection and live performance interaction. Ours was based around the story of the criminally insane girl who murdered her younger sister, with another actress and myself playing the part of her conscience, or rather playing out the inner monologue which happens during the scene. We were projected on the screen behind her, tormenting her with the thoughts she was having in her own head, we argued, yelled, laughed, all while the actress on stage reacted to our projections.

I am looking forward to using this in our final piece!

A video the Cheer Leaders and I made at "Mexican Night"...

First, watch this...

...then this..

"Fear" workshop, day three and four.

How sloppy of me to let me momentum slip!

Its the weekend now, or rather Friday afternoon, so its practically the weekend. I am sat comfortable at the desk in my room at home, and as such am free to evaluate the two days in which my group worked on our first performance project, "Fear."

On the Thursday I was only able to attend half of the days performance, due to clowning (more on that another time) and so missed a bit of the improv they went through to measure how fear can be generated by a few simple guidelines. What I was there for was the continuation of where we left off on the previous workshop. only this time with a little more emphasis on the controlling nature of my demon character, and increasing the clarity of the act of 'decision' that the protagonist must take between good and evil. It was interesting to pursue the exercise from the other day but I have to admit, I felt that I had done that already and learned what I could from it. Today some people mentioned wanting to do their sketches again or even in the performance itself, which made me sigh. Luckily I don't think that will be the case.

Today was all about sounds, and how we can use them to evoke the emagination of the audience. We were all tasked to bring an example of a piece of music we find to be scary, unnerving, or could in some way effect the feel of a scene to invoke fear. I chose Sally's Song from the Nightmare Before Christmas...

I don't really know why I chose that, I suppose its because there are a few discordant sounds in there, and the voice is quite shrill and eery (interestingly enough, while finding that video for you, I found a cover version by Amy Lee of Evenesence which is absolutely stunningly awesome.) After listening to the tracks that other people chose along with mine, we were able to discuss the ideas, emotions and in some cases (certainly some of mine) the narratives they conjure as we allow the music to take us on a journey.

It was certainly harder to have the images free flow in our heads (as a consensus) using the music with lyrics (such as mine) and it was generally agreed upon that soundtracks such as the Godfathers Theme (my second choice) and those from other such movies work best at generating unbiased streams of conciousness.

Finally, we gave an attempt at spoof. After looking at other examples in early cinematography at how music can give the audience the impressions and links and allow them to make certain in-obvious connotations with as little dialogue as possible (such films as 'White Zombie' and 'The Invisible Ghost.') The spoof really came about while watching the bad acting in those films, although for the way cinema worked at the time it was perfectly normal to be largely theatrical on film, these days film and theatre are two completely different worlds which is much separate from the mid nineteen hundreds theme of using theatre techniques...  and filming them. We took a track from one of the generic horror soundtrack CD's Mary (our director) brought along and set out at building a scene around the music using as little dialogue as possible.

I was disappointed in mine. Actually that's probably unfair, but then I am generally more critical of myself in private than I would let on. I thought that spoof would be something I was good at, being naturally comically inclined, but it seemed the other group got it without even thinking about it. The ironic thing is that some people in the other group with the same task I would argue do not have a single funny bone in their body, and yet they got it. This is sour grapes, obvious jealousy, but then what do you expect? Whats the point in thinking one of your strengths would serve you well, and you actually end up looking a fool (in a bad way) because of it. In fact, someone actually imparted some wisdom to us which was "Its much funnier when your not trying to be funny" which is ironic considering this is a lesson it took that person a semester to learn the year previous. That was vicious I suppose, but then I am actually more annoyed at myself than I am at the other people. Jealousy brings out the most vile creature in me, in most people I think, and I think I am over thinking things again as is my folly. I know I'm funny, I know I am funny when I don't want to be, I know that funny is spontaneous most of the time and controlled in only limited contexts.

Still, today left me feeling shit. Is that what it was supposed to do? I doubt it, and I doubt I will rectify the situation before division of our performance piece starts, but we shall see.

Fuck them, I'm well funny.

"Fear" workshop, day two.

Again, my apologies if this seems brief but I am on a time limit (I have a friend sat behind me as I write, as after this we are going to watch Ross Noble's new tour 'Non sensory Overload', and I am of course hella balls-to-the-wall excited.)

We began as usual with a workshop warm up, this time we focused on voice. We worked at creating harmony and discordance in equal measure, as a singular unit (that is, without letting the sound die between us, keeping it going and in many places alternating the breath.) Then we allowed ourselves to be led around the room with our eyes closed (working in pairs, alternating between the leader and the follower.) A suitable warmup, we were ready to begin.

Yesterday we were charged with finding a movie which had the basic theme of fear. Be it psychological thriller, horror, paranormal mystery, serial killers and what not. The movie I chose was Paranormal Activity, this being the most recent of that kind of movie which I have watched (not that I found it perticularly scary) and so it was easy for me to summarise it. I also liked the use of camera and its contemporary feel, almost realistic rather than naturalistic. My favourite or rather most memorable scene was one which happened during one of the evening filmings close to the end, when the lead female Katie is dragged with her foot from her bed by an unseen force...

We reviewed this and many other such films, like 'Silence of the Lambs' and 'The Orphan' discussing why the techinque worked ingenerating fear and the themes behind them. We touched on how the films differed and yet generated the same emotions, and how even the subject matter was vastly different from film to film.

After lunch we were tasked in small groups with devising our own short piece based on a loosely given plot synopsis. My group had "The last three minutes of a supernatural thriller, in which there must be a representation of a struggle between good and evil, with evil eventually winning." This was quite hard, abut I am pleased with what we did. Ours consisted of the protagonist 'Alice' having suffered the loss of her boyfriend a few months before, whom tried in vein to contact him using various occult sources of which one was the Ouija board. Through the board a demon comes and takes the form of her boyfriend which only she can see, and the boyfriend (played by myself) is the devil in her ear turning her against the altruistic best friend 'Carla'. The scene plays out and in the end the demon tricks Alice into killing her best friend. Given the amount of time we had to devise it I am pleased how it played out, and think that with more time it would only have gotten better.

I am afraid I will need to leave it here for now (and possibly indefinitely, or catchup on the next post) as it is time for a good dose of stand-up. I am so tired, I knew that the performance project will wear me out as it tends to, but with the cold on top of everything and having evening activities to attend, I have had little time to simple rest up and allow my body to work on battling this darn flu. Ah well, I shall persevere as I always do and take a little extra time to rest hard at the weekend.

Expect a review of the show at some point (Ross that is, but also this one when its finished.)

"Fear"workshop, day one.

This will be brief, as I am still rather ill and feel the sooner I can get to sleep the sooner I will be rather not-ill.

Today we looked at the idea of fear, we talked about what made us scared and why. It was a lot to discuss, but already I feel like we are diving right to the root of this project, and are building a good foundation to devise a piece of work. We were sent around the Adelphi building to find an area or place within or without that we find for one reason or another; scary. The area my group and I chose was a staircase leading below the basement level in one long stretch to a fire exit (which is at the very bottom step, ending the staircase abruptly.) We chose this area because the very unusual nature of the staircase meant that they appeared steeper than they actually are, and gave one viewing them from the top a sense of vertigo. Also, the abrupt end to the stairs at the bottom and the decent into darkness (being seemingly sub-terrain) seemed ominous.

We were then asked after lunch to return to that place and devise a piece of short theatre, with the intention to scare the audience. Instantly images came into my head from zombie movies with legless zombies clawing their way up the staircase to the audience, and perhaps appearing behind them, giving them the sense of being trapped. The image of something clawing and moving slowly is what I find very disturbing, more freaky-scary than terror-scary but ominous none the less...

Of course we then did this, my group and I with a small amount of improvisation and it worked. They jumped in the right place, they laughed a little but thats fine, its expected amongst friends. We went through everyones devised pieces in their own special places but I personally think ours was the best (I may be bias, but whatever.)

We were then sat together in a circle facing away from the centre, listening to the story "The Red Room" by H.G. Wells. A very interesting and atmospheric story, which I would suggest anyone to read if they wished to delve slightly into the macabre world of "Fear" for fear itself. All in all, a good second day, and a good step in the right direction (after all, none the less!)

Performance Project: "Fear"

That may be a temporary name, I am as of yet uncertain.

For those of you not in the know, at the beginning of each semester I have a performance or theatre project to complete. It takes up the first month and the timetable is pretty harsh (10am to 5pm, Monday to Friday, with a performance on Friday and Saturday evenings at the end of it.) Last year the project was Beyond the Front Line which I chronicled in detail from beginning to end for your reading pleasure and found it an entirely too convenient way to put a reflective essay together in one simple evening, and so for this project I intend to do the same. You'll have to excuse me if things seem a little off, I have a hum-dinger of a cold at the moment. I have just come from warming some lovely 'Heinz Winter Vegetable Broth' for my supper, having come from the shower before doing so (I will be stopping to take a yummy bite of my soft white bread soaked in soup while I type, how distracting!)

Today was the first day, the whole year group collected into the Studio Theatre at Adelphi to organise our groups and learn of the task we had ahead, the nature of the beast. I learned that the nature of our particular beast is fear (isn't it always?) and became giddy. I have worked with fear before, in my Art perhaps, but fear and that which is encompasses is familiar territory to me. I was told that we were to devise our own piece of theatre with fear as the theme, this will involve the 'grotesque clown' and 'black comedy' concepts, and even hinted towards a touch of the macabre or even cabaret Gothic, Rocky Horror style. We then proceeded to workshop.

For those unaware, theatre workshop can seem like the height of pointless. I'll explain and you can judge for yourself how high up on the Artsy Fartsy Acting scale it lands. The game was simple, amongst other tabloid pieces and sound scapes we created the focus was a game I shall refer to as simple 'Yes.' The concept from the off is that the group stands in a circle, a person begins by making eye contact with someone and saying their name. This person must then say "Yes" which is an acceptance than the person looking at them can take their space, then the focus is put on the person who said "Yes" and the process begins again (They look at someone, say their name, wait for a "Yes" yadda yadda.)

Excuse me a second, my soup is going cold....

That's better. So the game continues like this until the pace builds up and the flaws are ironed out. The game then changes into something seemingly more difficult. The person making eye contact no longer says the recipients name. This carries on until the rules change slightly a final time, whereby the 'yes' is replaced by a nod. You can see how complicated this would get being performed amongst a year group of about forty people, a few times my poor eyesight made me the butt of a few titters for mistaking myself as someone of attention. Of course, I can take these things in my stride, being an adult (damn them all to hell.) We got the hang of it eventually.

The game is a way of finding your 'ticks' (the things you do without knowing, which make your feel safe) such as leaning on one leg, biting your nails or staring at the floor, all of which an actor needs to be aware of if they are to cast them aside in favour of the ticks of the character they are trying to portray. I noticed that I had to fight to stop playing with my hands, which is strange considering I think that particular tick is unique to that one circumstance, I don't recall ever noticing or having anyone else notice that behaviour in me. The game is also a good way to guage how a person can behave on stage. Do they leave before saying "Yes" to the person giving them the stare? Do they panic to find another person whose name they have for no reason simply forgotten? Are they quiet in saying their victims names or answering in the affirmative? All of these tell a lot of crucial, almost subliminal information for a director. I am generally a fan of improvisation and will rather leap at the chance to leap into things head first than slowly plot my path beforehand (on stage that is) and so I found this game much easier when I wasn't plotting my course. The lesson today was definately on the importance of focus in a performance. Without it, we lose where we are, we lose character, we lose faith in ourselves and our team mates and worst of all, we tense up when we struggle to regain it, leading to a world of problems.

Almost finished my soup now...

On the administrative side of things I am somewhat disappointed. There seems to be a great imbalance between the two groups into which our year group has been split for the duration of the performance projects. This could be a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, too many cooks spoil the broth (which I recommend by the way, very satisfying and currently on offer in Tesco's) certainly when it comes to a piece devised by an 'ensemble.'  On the other hand, many hands make light work, and I have no doubt that out of every group you will have your waifs and lollygaggers, your laissez-faire mentality in certain performers happy with a 'pass' which I am sure you will be pleased to know; doesn't wash with me, particularly not after last year.

Right, soup's finished. I always feel lovely and full after soup, a perfect supper as it is both filling, but not too heavy on the old tummy. I'd better get some sleep you know, not only do I have this aforementioned cold to shift which as all good small town boys like myself know can only be shifted by plenty of bed rest (and Beechams,)  but today was just an introduction. For all the ills of last nights ditch attempt at a good nights sleep, tonight I will need to knuckle down and do some serious sleeping, for tomorrow; the work begins.

A story to reflect upon.

Just over a week ago my mother told me that for my Grandma's birthday we had been invited to a meal. My Grandma is a sprightly seven hundred years old and doesn't look a day over seventy two. Normally due to relations between my Dad and Grandma not being all what you would hope such a relationship to be, our side of the family are not asked along to these events (at least not I nor my father and older brothers) but I think they needed space to fill and I was a bum for an witting or unwitting seat.

The restaurant was an Italian place in Blackrod. Most of the family on my mothers side remained in or around Aspull (being where my Mum and her family grew up) with only my mother moving away to Worsley Mesnes with the rest of the scum. I should say that I am not bitter about relations amongst my family, we all love each other very dearly and although we may poke fun, the jocularity is just that, and I am very glad to be invited to such events, as I was with this one. I also don't want you thinking that my mothers side of the family consider themselves of higher status or bluer blood, we went to a posh Italian restaurant on a Friday evening because there was an offer on which would my my tight fisted Grandma happy, it was her birthday after all.

We all sat down to peruse the menu and pick our starters. There were my two Aunts, two husbands and five cousins (and two boyfriends of the former,) my Uncle with his wife and their four kids, my Mother, myself and of course, my Grandma. They had two vegetarian options, one being fried cheese and the other being breaded mushrooms. Both of these did not appeal to me as I am neither a fan of cheese or garlic (which the mushrooms were smothered in.) So naturally I took a look at the fish options and found there to be Prawn Cocktail, and 'Whitebait.'

Well, you reading this may be more in the know than I, who was at a loss as to what Whitebait could be. I surmised it was fish (that University education not going to waste) but there are plenty other fish in the sea as they say and some are more fish-like than others.

So here I was, at the cross roads. Do I take the safe, reliable and generally pleasing Prawn Cocktail in Marie Rose Sauce. This of course being something I enjoy and seldom get to eat or prepare myself, or do I be adventurous, live outside the box, a rebel of the restaurant, throw caution to the wind, be devil may care, to hell in a hand basket and order this peculiar but peculiarly alluring Whitebait. Why would I even consider ordering something which I had no clue of? This isn't Sye... Then again, University is an adventure. Stand-up comedy was an adventure. Moving out was an adventure. Look where all my adventures have led me, the people I've met, the amazing things I've experienced all through taking the bull by the horns. This is what 'Whitebait' represented, it was my freedom, my vice, everything I had denied myself and both strived for and feared in equal and insurmountable measure. It was my Everest, my catwalk, my prime time début. It was stepping outside of myself and living outside of the box known as safe, from which all of my most treasured experiences birth.

"Dovrò bianchetti per favore" I said, "I'll have the Whitebait."...

...I could have died.

These poor little darling fish were looking up at me, accusatory even in death. Their little faces twisted in rictus as the look of pure terror and innocence forever shone from their now mortified, deathly staring eyes. I sat there, equipped with knife and fork in each hand with my mouth as open wide as the fish on the plate, with the same look of horror and an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I know I didn't kill them, I know I was not the one to the deep fry them in a jacuzzi of vegetable fat and indignity, I know I was not the one to serve them with a wedge of lemon, some side salad and the hope of a long and happy uneventful life. I had chosen adventure, and was presented with my reward.

"This is finer living!?" I thought, "This is the upper echelon at its peak!?" Of course it isn't, they probably spend slightly more than what we did particularly in light of the offer we took advantage of. But have no fear, the delights of my family were on hand to rectify the situation. My aunts husband, my uncle I suppose, swapped his starter for mine. I was eating deep fried Camembert and loving every bite of it, albeit guiltily considering my uncle then forewent a starter and settled for picking from other people (which I was fully prepared to do, though of course when the offer of an alternative starter came up I went for it.)

There we have it, I picked adventure and lucked out. I will leave you to take from this story what you want and to draw your own conclusions but I will finish on this note; I had a wonderful night, I found that I like 'Deep fried Camembert' very much, and my Grandma enjoyed her birthday.

Did I make the wrong choice in being adventurous? That's up to you. I will be adventurous next time though, because what's life without a little of the unknown.

Back to school.

That time has rolled up once again, my second year of University starts later this month, and I cannot wait! The downs not withstanding from last years first year, the ups are something I am certainly looking forward to repeating.

Lets see if I can enumerate the Ups and Downs for your clarifical delights...

Ups

• Meeting some great people and making a heap of new friends
• Giving stand-up comedy a go
• Moving out and finding my feet (sort of)
• Learning a load of neat things such as the ins and outs of camera work, media analysis and voice
• Trying a load of neat things, such as video production, mask work and clowning
• Getting involved with Comedy Sportz Manchester
• Becoming a cheer leader
• Being involved with Beyond the Front Line
• Finding my bliss
• Being financially 'better off'
• Living in Manchester
• Losing weight and becoming fitter/healthier...

There are a lot there but actually I feel the list is too short, its missing something, it is incomplete or otherwise without. I suppose its the feeling of being a student, and everything that word entails whether that be fighting the stereotype of the student or embracing the lifestyle it engenders. There were downs though, I am not trying to rose tint your picture here as there certainly were things which took the shine from an otherwise perfect experience...

Downs

• Sharing a house with eleven people, most of whom horrible, horrible people
• Being, or having the feeling of being overlooked, or 'passed over'
• Getting passes in everything, when I am capable of so much more (and in some cases feel I did so much more)
• Not trying as hard as I know I could have
• Missing classes due to the lecturer being absent, and not per suing the matter for reimbursement
• Not making an effort to with people who could be closer friends than they are now...

I admit, that last one is something that I think we all suffer from, I certainly don't just regret it from Uni but from most situations I find myself. We all wear masks you see, I sometimes need to lower my barriers and just simply be with people as I am, and not try to impress people or be overtly polite to avoid offending them. Or act as naive as I do, because I know that is something I do a lot. I generally do believe there is a silver lining to every cloud, and in trying my hardest to be positive I am serving my friends and colleagues to the best of my ability but I regret that in some instances people want more than that.

In retrospect, its actually the people I spoke to in earnest that I consider closer than other in my year. Its the people I let my guard down to, even slightly, and shared my frustration with. It was that communal frustration, that agreement of nuances that brought us together and actually if it weren't for the fact that I am such a dowdy spinster and have some intimacy and trust issues I would probably be sharing a house now with some of them, lounging on the couch eating ice cream in the lap of a friend while we watch a zombie film or have some chill out music on.

I think I will aim for that this year. I have already made a list of the things I want to accomplish, and while I will append this to the end of it I won't go and add it to my original list, as the thought process is as important as the decision. I have said many times to many people, I often prefer the journey to the destination.

Pride 2010, and the big 100.

As the title suggests, this is my one hundredth post and I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than to enlighen you as to how pride went.


I told you I was going to march without a shirt on. I warned you, but you just wouldn't listen. Look what happened, you see that? Thats me at Manchester Pride 2010, shirtless. I'm not sure how I feel about the above pictures but I can honestly say I had fun on the day. The fun was in the carelessness! I just was not bothered what people thought of me. I can say that now, I would never have been able to say that a few years back, hell even this time last year I would have been bashful and quite traumatised by the idea.

I did the lifestyle expo for this years freebies, and some possible connections for OMG. I did the markets and got myself a few lovely things and some gifts for friends...

Pictured: Freebies and lovely things.

...all in all I would call it a success, sort of. Ok so maybe the hire company didn't supply our generator with a power converter, meaning we didn't have any music. Which meant that we also couldn't perform the dance routine we have been working on for over two weeks, which my mother and I practiced extra for. Actually that did take the shine off the parade, well that and other things. Its always worth telling myself that things could have been much worse all around, and so I am at least glad that we attended the event.

Last year there was a number of grievances involving the administration of the group and it almost looked like it wasn't going to happen. I made the decision to turn things around about a month before the parade with the help of Janet Henry, the youth worker for B.yoU (I say I managed, it was actually a case of me rallying the troops, but damn did I rally them!)

With the clock now counting away the days hours and seconds before my return to University for the second year, I drift aimlessly from unfinished task to unfinished task. I keep thinking of all the things I can do and sort out before I ship out again. I am organising my wardrobes, cleaning my room, sorting my files into neat little sections so that all the information I would need throughout the year is easily accessible...  and of course I am getting ready to say goodbye again. Its a little easier this yea because I have already done it once and it didn't affeck me too much considering I had quite a few weeks off and extended holidays (my timetable that is, not truancy.) For some reason, Uni life is actually mostly free time, and that includes 'self directed study', you'd think I'd get more work done!

So, although I disagree with making plans and setting goals, there are a few things I'd like to try this year:

• Join the dance society, and improve on my street, ballet, and general dance ability.
• Keep up the cheer leading, as well as improve my flexibility and general gymnastics (which includes things like tumbles!)
• Hit the gym, get rid of the love handles and replace the flab with some solid mass.
• Try harder to mingle with people and get into more social circles, possibly pushing for a romantic interest, and...
• Set myself up as a company, limited by guarantee, then get some work as an artist.

As I said before about the photos, the reason I think that I am not so sure about them is that in retrospect I don't at the moment think that my body is any more attractive than it used to be. Its a healthier shape, and besides the health benefits its closer to the type of man I go for (on reflection.) I suppose with the love handles and noticable rib cage, I am still a bit of an odd shape. My body is probably still adjusting to the big changes I've made in the last year or so, lets see what the coming year brings...

Roll on Uni, roll on Christmas, roll on New Years, roll on Winter and then Spring, and then sunny Summer. Roll on the heartaches and the bliss, the trials and successes.

After all that, roll on Pride 2011!

A quick note to say...

Happy birthday to me...  in one hour. I will be twenty three, the dreaded Twenty Three!

I just want to scream!

I am so frustrated, I want to yell at the top of my voice!

I am not one to be dramatic most of the time but I am feeling such a stress of doing nothing. People often assume that a holiday whether forced or not is a good thing, perhaps not for financial reasons but certainly as respite for the mind, but this one has gone on long enough. I am chewing my laptop here, I am so restless!

I do a lot of volunteering of course, and I have everything I do online including a few projects I am considering. There is pride this weekend and my Art which is on going as always and yet in moments like this I just feel so pent up that I am ready to throw a chair. On my way upstairs I was overcome with a wave of loneliness, where the hell did that come from!? While I was brushing my teeth I had a sudden feeling of foreboding by my often reoccurring fear of death, in the reminder that it is the once certainty in life. My brain is so starved of distractions that it is actually punishing me. My brain is saying "If you don't give me something to do, some different walls to stare at, some escape from this living prison, I will force you to consider all your insecurities and fears." I have even started to think terrible things of people I care about. I'm getting to be paranoid about the two faced nature of some of my friends. I know this exists, it is one of their flaws, hell I would be lieing if I said I haven't acted more friendly to someone than I actually am (and I am a very good actor) but for some reason I am making demons where I shouldn't.

I never thought I would say this but I may just be a career type. Without University to guide and schedule my time I feel lost and restless. I feel trapped by circumstance and caged by an empty routine. At least when I went to the gym (of which my membership expired last week) I was working towards a clear goal. Now its as if my time at home is completely thankless.

Then I think, how am I going to go on after Uni?

My decision

I'm not sure whether I blogged about this, and I'm not entirely certain who I have spoken to about it so I'll go through the story before telling you about the decision I have come to. I would like (if I may,) to take you on a strange journey...   back a few years. I had decided half way through my psychology access to follow my bliss, which was pointing me in the direction of the stage.

The way that funding works at the moment in this country for those seeking higher education is thus; If you get accepted onto a course as an undergraduate (a person who has not already gained a degree) student finance will offer you a student loan for your tuition fees, this can be done for four years (remember that, its important.) When I started my HND at Salford Uni, it was under the pretense of a 'taster year', a year in which I can compare Media & Performance with Psychology in terns of how it keeps my interest, how it challenges me, what job prospects I can expect at the end of it and so on. After the first year I was to make a decision to either continue onto the second year, and then onto a degree which would take four years in total, or start a Psychology degree which, again would be four years.

During my first year at Uni I have to say that I was disappointed with the way the course was administered, and the do nothing attitude of the other students. It degrades my image by being associated with people who take the course as a bird course. Having said that, the lessons were interesting, I was challenged, and I find myself learning a lot and making a load of neat connections in the world of Theatre, Radio, TV etc, and am trying to, or rather was trying to weigh the subject with the school in my decision. The decision, if you haven't already guessed, was to carry on doing Performance, or go back to Psychology.

Also, after working on a number of project over the summer including B.yoU's pride entry and the new OMG website I have realised that working as an artist and graphic designer isn't as time consuming or strenuous as I first though, and it just needs a little fore planning and wisdom (wisdom I now see that I lacked a couple of years ago.) So an Art degree was looking increasingly tempting as well, which just added to the confusion.

So now for my decision...

After talking to a number of people on the issue, I have decided to gain my degree in performance. The degree is like a badge, no matter what the subject it is still something which you carry with you for life. It is a stepping stone and a backup plan all rolled into one and actually, I do like the subject. Its creative, and its what I need, its what I want. Art, as I have already demonstrated, is something you do not need a degree in to do professionally (or in my case, unprofessionally which is the way I work.) Actually, realistically, the only thing you need is passion, and to have the power to instill your passion into other. My performance helps me do this, it builds on what I believe (after being told countless times) is natural presence. That essence of a person which shouts 'I am someone you would do well to listen to' without you having to do anything. Its all in tone, posture, manner, and its actually a blessing to have.

No more crossroads for me. My decision is made and I am comfortable it is the right one. Now all I will need to do is knuckle down, as I plan to finish Uni with a first.

So, get this, right....

I weigh just over twelve stone!

I know, its weird. Its like I've been here all summer surrounded by numerous foods, not to mention having money in the bank to buy numerous foods and here I am, just over twelve stone. I mentioned before that I joined a gym, well I have been hitting it a little harder than I originally planned, though to be fair I took a street dance class last Wednesday which was amazing but also left me amazingly achy, then the day after I went to the gym again. Needless to say, I haven't been all weekend I'm gonna go today.

I find it really focusing, and energising to do a good workout. Not to mention I get the chance to do some swimming which I love, and I have been doing my intensive stretches so my heal stretches are quite impressive now.

I'm not a gym bunny though. Or at least I hope I'm not...  I must admit to not being entirely sure what classifies as a gym bunny these days. there are some days when I will go to the gym everyday, then others when its once every two or three days. I'm going to get rid of some of my loose skin which I think might cause me hastle if I don't sort out. I do want to look a little more toned as well, is that a gym bunny thing? Some people there are embarassingly big. The sort of people you think must consider themselves gods gift, when actually people are staring at them thinking 'What the fuck?" instead of admiration or jealousy.

Gaining upper body strength will have its advantages in my dancing and cheer leading as well. In fact the more I think about it, the more my university lifestyle compliments my healthy regime. I think its just strange bringing that lifestyle back home, which is why I am so shocked that I managed to keep my weight down over the summer. Maybe it wasn't the move to university which spurred my weight loss, maybe greater of myself has changed.

I certainly feel different.

The shivers.

I want you to listen to this music, and hopefully you are listening to it for the first time. I've always been a secret lover of classical music since I first started to learn how to play the piano. I could get swept away by an orchestra, I see such wonderful colours and lights when I close my eyes, and whole lifetimes come to pass and stories unfurl when a symphony rings sweetly or hotly through my ears. If a piece of music really touches me, I get shivers up and down my body. That is how I can tell a piece of music is good, the lights, the sounds, the ideas besides, it is the shivers or pure bliss I get which start right across my shoulders, through my heart, and spread like a wave of pure, shocking joy. I am floored by them, I need a moment to recover after feeling them.

One of the first classical themes I fell in love with is called Le Danse Macabre which is a wonderful example of 1800's classical composition. It was composed by Camille Saint-Saëns after being inspired by a poem written based on an old french superstition that on halloween every year, on the stroke of midnight, the devil rises from the deep to play his fiddle, and make all the dead dance until dawn...

Oh I remember when I was a teenager and first head that music in full glory, I had it on repeat and on my CD player (that was a while ago, remember portable CD players? I'll be harking on about walkmans next.) Recently, I've been diving into 'new age classical' which are compositions made in the last fifty years or so, which are so unique! Given the new techniques used in producing music combined with the classical format of the orchestra, it is so compelling!

Usually, in these modern times when people say something is 'new age' it usually means that they have tried to improve it by doing away with all the nonsense which gave it its charm, and crowbarred modern thinking to something which didn't need 'improvement.' However, I find that new age classical is just an amalgamation of different techniques and instruments appended to the old orchestral format. What we are left with is the sort of wonderful music used in the soundtracks of movies. You remember I mentioned before about when I hear inspiring and breathtaking music, I can see wonderful images and light? Well modern classical is applied to movies in the same way, so that people can feel through sound what they are feeling through sight.

I challenge you to listen to this next piece by Thomas Newman (a new favourite of mine.) Close your eyes, sit,  be, just experience it. Feel the shivers run through your body and wait for that moment where you need to breath in out of shear breathlessness. Seek this pleasure, for this is the true measure of great music.

Now try and tell me the 'Sex Pistols' were good music.

Change is hard.

Ok so I don't want to bum anyone out, but this post if about death.

Yesterday I saw 2012, which for anyone who hasn't seen (which includes the me from before last night) it is basically about the end of the world. I found it, while being a good action film and way up there on my 'Disaster film's list (anyone who knows me well enough knows I love disaster films, colour me crazy) it also got me thinking about my own mortality.

You see the issue is that every so often, and it isn't so often as to be a problem but every once in a while I will have a sort-of mini panic attack about death. About the general shortness and insignificance of existence, and about all the depressing things that to continue with life, most people do not think about. I'll start to think about how everyone I know will eventually die, about the experiences I have yet to go through such as the death of my pets, of my parents, them possibly my brothers and my friends, and throw in the odd accident or cancer and you have a lifetime of heartache that I tremble just thinking about.

Of course this thought disappears very quickly. I resolved a long time ago that you cannot fight the inevitable, and the more time you spend dwelling on the subject of death, the less time you spend living. I mulled that life is measured not by how many people remember you or what you leave behind, but the experiences you have while your here, and the happiness you feel and bestow on others before leaving this mortal coil. Last night I started to panic that my life might not be worth while, that I won't be able to affect the lives of as many people I'd want to and that I might die feeling unfulfilled. I know now that that simply won't happen, I have a lot to give to people, even if it is just my family and friends. My goal in life is to love and be loved, to spread happiness and to ease the suffering of others, to live life and gain as many experiences as I can before I move on to whatever it is I am to move onto.

Last night I fell asleep, as I always do. When I woke up this morning I was looking forward to the day, I wasn't concerned about my mortality, and that, is life.

He's dead, gym!

Ok ok ok, guess what I did...

Wrong!... (maybe,) I joined a gym. After losing an ass load of weight (unfortunately, not from my ass) I have decided to do the stupidly bold and moronically adventurous thing of walking the Manchester Pride parade... shirtless! Normally this action is enough to frighten the populous, but screw it, I'm proud of who I am (or whatever it is.)

Sye, put your shirt on!

I'm usually in the gym for about an hour and a half, to two hours at a time. I start by getting changed (that helps) and doing fifteen minutes on a bike. Not a regular bike mind, one you can chill out on! I tend not to chill out though, I'm quite good at being rigorous when I'm in the gym. After that I do my intensive stretches, focusing mostly on my legs (as I use them for walking and such.) Next up is either fifteen minutes on the rowing machine, or I skip that and go straight to my muscle work outs. These involve focusing on my arms and chest, as well as getting rid of the mid-rift which I have yet to give a name to. After all that, a nice relaxing fifteen minute swim, followed by roughly eight hours in the jacuzzi and sauna (thats, eight hours each or course.)

I leave feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. I have to say it isn't at all what I've expected. I did try attending a gym a few years ago and just felt so self conscious that I couldn't really concentrate. I mean I was fat, but the fact that most of the people in that gym were steroid monkeys, and I was still envious of their bodies. Now however its as if I have no shame at all! I mean there are still a lot of things I would change about my body given the chance, but going from being large to being medium has sort of put things into perspective about how much nobody gives a shit but you! Actually I was worried that I would start to pile weight on during the holidays from Uni, but actually I've managed to stick to it and tighten some of my unsightly loose skin.

All in all, I am rather proud of myself (or, whatever it is) and I think I am going to be daring enought to post pictures soon to report on my progress!

Now, where did I put the ice cream...