Saucy

I am standing on one leg waiting to step forward and say something motivational to nearly 100 people who have turned up at the Cardiff School of Optometry and Vision for the opening of the 'Sight of Emotion' photographic exhibition when I have a realisation. You see, for a couple of weeks I have been trying to figure out what it is that my new perfume really smells of. I have got the ylang ylang and the hint of sandlewood,I have noted the musky vanilla but there is something ..else…and I’ve been wracking my brains trying to think what it is.
A second before I have to step out into the dazzle of other people’s eye lines I realise. Its soy sauce. A very expensive, organic Japanese sweet soy sauce to be sure but soy sauce none the less.
It makes sense. Ever since I started wearing it I have been cooking every meal in a wok (including breakfast) and when I have been out in company its takes only 10 minutes before someone orders sushi.
I am about to speak for 5 minutes about photography, art and disability and I smell like noodles.

(As it turns out no one seems to notice but afterwards the teriyaki chicken sticks fly off the buffet table. )

The exhibition is called ‘Sight of Emotion’; photographs by visually impaired or blind artists. I have four pieces in this travelling exhibition and am ‘representing’ the other photographers that I worked with last year. I talk from the heart (assisted by a sneaky nerve steadying glass of Cava) and two women in the audience start crying. I am slightly distracted by this as my intention was to inspire not cause distress but turns out the tears were cathartic. I could have had the whole audience sobbing if I’d been given another twenty minutes. Perhaps I should change my presentation style…..

Well..its been emotional. I’m off for some miso soup and bean curd.

Job Lot.

I have a free day. Nothing to do but job applications and essential gardening and house cleaning. So I pull out my rucksack and gear up for a hike along the river. Only I have to return in less then an hour because my eyes are shit. I stagger and squint and my eyes flic flic flic looking for the safe ground. Defeated and infuriated I retreat to the flat. If only there were no people around. I wouldn’t mind so much. But people drifting in and out of my peripherals with their children and their dogs and their sodding, bloody bicycles…

There is nothing for it. I look through the jobs again. Here are some I did earlier:
Africa News and Current Affairs Producer: BBC
Administrator: Cambridge (x 10)
Writer for agency in Amsterdam. (This position comes with a bicycle. I am very hopeful!)
Part time Lecturer in Creative Media: Bath University
Regional Programme Coordinator: Disabled NGO: Sri Lanka

All these jobs may seem strange to you. You know me as a writer and yet it states in my mini bio up above I am a film maker. In fact I am an Oscar nominated film maker! Oh yes indeedy. (‘Choka- Get Lost!’ 2001) Many people have asked me why I am not still grappling within the industry? Is it because I is disabled?

I was essentially a producer so, apart from the fact that the sight loss is a drain on my energy it doesn’t really affect my work at all. …and for those of you who are confused here is the old film school difference between producer and director:

Producer: This is the person who decides the time is right to embark on the bonkers lunacy of making a film; the person who options the book, sources the script, who finds the finance, who brings on the director, polices the casting and soothes the (usually weeping) screenwriter. Strangely it is often a highly creative and nurturing role. However, the buck definitely stops here. The producer hires and fires, signs off the production schedules and manages the overall budgets. And the producer finds distribution outlets, markets the film…gets it sold.

Director. This is the person, usually hired by the producer, who takes the script and visualises the entire film in their head..often ‘reworking’ it to set the screenwriter weeping again. They then find a particular cinematographer and importantly a trustworthy editor who can translate their vision onto celluloid and together they oversee the creative element of the production. The director does not usually have much to do with the finance (apart from the usual fight with the producer about the cost of a crane shot.) This is for everyone’s safety.

The thing is that the producer and the director, although they inspire and support each other, usually have very defined functions. This applies to everyone. The Coen brothers are spooky and finish each other’s sentences but they know exactly who does what on a shoot.

Defined roles are key. Shoots fall apart because creative personalities without defined boundaries crash and smash into each other like sumo wrestlers and this upsets the technicians who freak out, become more introverted and snide and then storm off to better jobs.

To tell the truth I loved film production. I loved creating and developing ideas. I loved pulling crews together and production managing. I found, interestingly, that I could be incredibly effective and efficient both in pre production and on a shoot in complete opposition to my personal life. I loved juggling a hundred things a day and expending every scrap of energy I had and I loved watching an edit coming together.…but I HATED marketing. I HATED schmoozing. This is unfortunate for a producer. With the right budget you can hire people to schmooze for you but sadly I have never worked on a shoot with the right budget.
So I rather lost confidence and then I lost interest. Artisically successful…sure…but that doesn’t buy the champagne darling.

Turns out that in truth I am a writer..with benefits sure. I can produce films. (Did I mention the Oscar nomination?) I can also programme manage for any NGO including those in Sri Lanka, administrate stuff (yawn), teach creative media (errr) and much, much more. (As long as it never involves marketing...) You just need to try me.

Here’s hoping for that writing job in Amsterdam eh! It has a canal view.

Scoping out the future

I have been a bit slack about writing this last few days but I have an excuse. You see I went to an audition!! I had been really scared about and I danced ..but I fell over..but I got up and I started again and it was wonderful. They loved me and now I am going to study ballet at Julliard and I have an aging hairy boyfriend ..and…oh no wait.... That was ‘Flashdance’.

Well I have an audition..ok a job interview for real. Today, in London, and I REALLY would like to do it. It is one of those jobs that comes along once or twice a decade and usually goes to someone with a couple of degrees in Management Speak but that aside it has the potential to help thousands of disabled people in UK. And, if you help us disabled people we will become over achievers and inspirational motivators and change society for the better. So there.

Most disabled people have to become courageous, patient, tenacious and think creatively. And that is just to get to the shops. Tap into that demographic, source the resources and standards that are our basic rights to live equally and vabaoom! Anything is possible.
So this afternoon I, actually in a dress, will go and chat for an hour with five people who may allow me to help change the future. No biggie then…..

Dennis has a hang over from eating all the peanut balls that were there for the finches. Serves him right..bloody squirrel.