sizes

It really isn't what's on the outside that makes you a rad person.

This industry is fucking sad, unattainable and makes normal sized people feel like shit for being a size 12. It also successfully makes people who are a size 6 feel like shit because they are getting slammed for being bad (role) models that young women inevitably aspire to look like. In reality, they are just doing their jobs, making a buck like everyone else. It's all a vicious cycle but it doesn't seem to have the slightest bit of light at the end of the tunnel for change. 

money

The money should come off trees and the plane tickets should fall from the sky. They would come down and shake the branches of the trees that hold the money and shake all those dollar dollar bills onto the freshly mown grass. And those notes would lay there nestled in the cuttings, because even though there’s sticky warm breeze, it’s not enough to ruffle the notes which fell so gently. An overcast sky to make the grass glow and the blades show. Laying on the moist clippings before they are snatched into greasy voracious hands. The eager fingers coordinate themselves to caress those lithe papers more tenderly than any lover. It would be a shameless frenzy of ferocious greed. A display of the parsimonious people.

saturday

Yesterday while I was test shooting I got asked to take my top off. There are a few things you should know first to understand my predicament. 

1. I was on an unpaid test. On Swanston St. On a Saturday morning. Outside a flower stand.

2. It is winter.

3. It is unnecessary. 

4. "You won't see your boobs though because you'll be covering them with flowers and your hands." Cool, what's the point then?

5. These shots are an editorial test being submitted for publication in a Perth magazine. "The editor said if we can get this shot it'll just really make the tulle skirt pop!" Next time the editor has such a big fat opinion on an UNPAID TEST that's being submitted for publication to HER MAGAZINE, how about she BOOKS ME and PAYS ME for an editorial. 

So after succumbing to the dignity stripping predicament that is being topless crouching inside an enclosed flower stand on Swanston St, I said hurry up then this has better be worth it. No nip got shown, no public members saw a thing. "Can you just stand up in here because I can't get any greenery when you're crouched so low." NO I WILL NOT BE STANDING UP BECAUSE IT'S WINTER AND I'M NOT BEING PAID AND I'M A PERSON AND I DON'T WANT TO JUST GET MY BREASTS OUT.

There’s regularly an endless supply of ignorant ramblings coming from behind me. A constant hum of ‘fuck’ in a multitude of languages, a disregard to cultural relativity and geographical location, and a particular lack of responsibility for occupation. It’s been a long afternoon with one casting taking almost two hours including travel time, only to assemble in militaristic line, and get not so much as a look. The nature of the game. My mind now wanders from the potential job at hand and I consider my options in life. They seem endless in such a youthful mind. Thank god, the ideas breeding are plentiful.

I wonder why we relish these people so? This is a rhetorical question because the answer is as obvious as obvious as their beauty, and in fact one in the same. It’s the way of the Western World- idolising artificially created beauty. Even when you start with a palate with an abundance of characteristic allure, it has become a commonplace necessity to add to it. In this process I think everything becomes much of a muchness. Unique beauties become mass produced products, raped of any remaining originality. 

Avoiding the conversation present I have buried my head amongst the pages of Richard Branson’s autobiography. It makes one feel both small and inspired. Drowning out the noise behind me with Pink Floyd makes for an epically suited soundtrack to ponder such things.

the interesting questions

what makes you feel most alive?

Being at the beach, when no-one else is around, with crazy wind and wild waves and enormous skies reminding you that you are just one person, but you are alive.

have you ever cried in public?
I have cried uncontrollably while driving shortly after my Grandy passed away. I was in perfect control of the vehicle but an emotional wreck. Public road, private space, what gives.

do you read the reviews before you go to the movies?
I hardly ever go to the movies. I might read a review, I might not. If I do, it never sways me much as I understand the absolute subjectivity of such reviews (though sometimes, if someone labels it terrible, then I see that as a challenge to go and enjoy it - that's my stubborn gene coming through).

have you ever had a paranormal experience?
Not in reality, but I have incredibly vivid dreams, often seeing figures emerge up close, or flying over cities. Seeing as dreams are just another extension of self, maybe that counts? I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe that someone's spirit stays on in some places.

is your favourite colour blue?
Blue is my favourite colour. It's the most common colour in my underpants collection.

do you still dream of living in a loft overlooking central park?
I dream of such a luxury, but I think I'd also enjoy Spain. I want to be close to the sea. I do love New Zealand.

what's your dream job?
I have multiple dream jobs. I'd be delighted to become fantastic at just one of them, or dabble with one and switch to another, or juggle legal practice with dream job #3. Only time will tell.

- IP lawyer with a focus on the music industry (i.e. copyright), though I wouldn't shy away from working with trade marks. I find the "idea of protecting an idea" fascinating. I think sometimes it goes too far. The music industry needs a shake up and the broader issues surrounding copyright - particularly pertaining to the internet - are in dire need of refreshment. It irks me that consumers think that because something is easily accessible (i.e. through the instantaneous nature of the internet) that it should be free. Laws should act to deter behaviour that is considered "wrong" but at present, it's not entirely working.

- Criminal defence lawyer. I could really utilise my talking skills because I can be chatterbox central. I like persuading people. I think it's such an important role in our justice system which so frequently gets lambasted by the media because of the hideous factual scenarios. Horrible things happen, there is no questioning that. Victims could be supported better. But to deny someone legal representation when their liberty is at stake is narrow-minded and not conducive to promoting an egalitarian society. I'm comfortable - in fact I am attracted to - the idea of representing the underdog. Other than intellectual property, criminal law has been the one area which has really reeled me in. I'm not trying to justify this because I feel that it needs to be justified as a career choice, but to reinforce the importance of the role. I think the general population needs to be better educated of the role of the defence lawyer.

- Food critic. I love to write. (In fact, I'd also love to be a columnist. Current affairs and food, that's what interests me.) Food, oh food, my relationship with food. I'm so lucky to have grown up with inventive, exciting and delicious food. I love to cook, but I equally love to share my eating experiences with others. Food writing can be awfully pretentious, and I'm probably a little guilty of this at times. But to be able to celebrate food - the textures, the intermingling flavours, the people you share it with, the rush of of excitement when you order a delectable sounding meal, the empty plate at the end - that's what I adore.

My dream jobs aren't crazy, outrageous jobs or even non-jobs completely out of the realm of my current life (as a law student, pretend-blogger, foodie) because I'm fortunate enough to love the stuff I do. That said, I'll be glad to earn my double degree and be finished with university after five years and jump into something new. I like change, and I like to be challenged.

- have you checked this out? nicolacollie.tumblr.com.
Is the pope catholic? Yes, yes yes. I have checked it out. Multiple times. It's fantastic.

Are these going on your blog? Cause I spent a good hour coming up with (hopefully interesting) answers!

Yours,

lil fish fork xx

the interesting questions

what makes you feel most alive?

Many a thing. Being solitary in hugely exposed open spaces in the wilderness. Dancing when I know the material like the back of my hand. I would just like to take this time to mention that I think this saying is silly. It is with great infrequency that I look at the back of my hand, apart from when I need to scribble on it for lack of paper- but even then I'm looking at the ink not my substitute skin-paper. I also dislike the saying 'it's like comparing apples and oranges', and implying that they are different. Sure, they are a bit, but I can find more similarities than differences. Both sweet and deliciously juicy, both spherical, both fruit, both have skin etc. etc. I have made my point. Back to dancing, yes. When the choreography is in my body and your whole existence lies within this movement in a series of moments. It's spectacular to feel, and hopefully to watch. Generally anything that pushes my body to physical extremes makes me feel alive.

Have you ever cried in public?
What an obvious question. Of course, it's me. I'm an emotional, empathetic person. Sometimes it's even tears of joy and contentment. I get overtaken with the extreme beauty and/or sadness that some situations hold, and then next thing you fucking know I'm quietly blubbering to myself wishing I had some sunglasses.

Do you read reviews before the movies?
No not usually. Oh maybe if I'm a wee bit iffy about the film, but usually I like to go in as neutral as possible. Even if one reads reviews and is determined not to be swayed by them; by then it is too late. Once the information's up there in that noggin it's hard to ignore. Restaurants on the other hand..

4.Have you ever had a paranormal experience?
No. But when I worked at the hospital with a lot of elderly folk, I think it was important to open windows if someone died. I'd like to think human's aren't just their bodies. I know in the grand scheme of things we are all just made of matter, but there are always unknowns out there and I'd like to think I am opening the window to the possibility that something does live on. It is likely this is a coping mechanism we have created for losing those we adore, but if you are that dry and unimaginative about life it can become a dull and cynical existence. It also makes tragic situations unbearable.

What do you fear?
Mediocrity.

What is your favourite colour?
Orange. Then Purple.

I will explain orange. It is the perfect mix of red and yellow. From what both these colours imply, they create a perfect median that is harmoniously happy, fiery, passionate and carefree. If I had to be a colour I'd be orange.
All the colours are a pleasure, though. Vivid colour is just the most divine sight.

What is your dream job?
This is impossibly hard to answer. Let me start with stating the obvious: I'm an idealist. Do you know how many jobs I want to do? If I could I study a bazillion things I would. Actually, being in China has made me realise how much I savour learning. If I could I would be a contemporary-dancing artist- journalist who photographs for NATGEO, dabbles in genetics, neuroscience and being a doctor for doctors without borders, who also has a broad knowledge of law and politics, with my own cooking program, accompanied by heavy involvement in philanthropy, the UN and the Olympics because they're so grand.

Most importantly I want to leave the planet knowing i've made a difference. (Wank wank cliche eat your heart out. I don't give a rats ass.) Helping others is majorly high on my agenda. It kind of equals happiness to me.
Perhaps I will study a billion things- fuck why not?
If I do things seriously (like the dancing) it's generally because I want to be the best. I'm competitive and want to push the boundaries and create new ones.
Admittedly, I am such a dreamer, but what's the point if you cant make it a reality? Hence the move to Melbourne. I would rather have bruised knees and aching muscles than live with regret. When I was twelve I convinced myself I was too tired to do a race at Balmac athletics day so I pulled out. I regretted that for so long and that feeling, even at 12 years old, was enough to put me off for life. That sounds dramatic, and although the event now seems rather humorous, it taught me a pretty important lesson early on which I'm thankful for. It still crops up in my mind when I make decisions.
I was also recently told an excellent quote by an equally excellent person that sums up much of what I am saying:
"People said to me, eight years ago/ten years ago: Oh you're such an idealist, you're gonna go nowhere. Well my idealism has got me to live in this beautiful garden here ok, and I've got my own studio and I got the fucking motor car I wanna drive ok, so where's my idealism and where's yours? What do you do, huh? How can you go out and earn a hundred thousand pound for charity? 'Cause I can. Tomorrow. And they can't. So people will always criticise people that do something. It's only the people that do nothing that can never be criticised."
-Jay Kay, Jamiroquai

Fuck, we were talking about dream jobs- I'm Nicola and I love tangents.

Models

Being a product is strange. It's being a mannequin, or a coat-hanger but having ears and a heart. 

Hannah

Han I've been thinking about you a lot today.  In fact most times I see the colour purple (which is especially frequent in China), I think of the little purple bow and the part of you I carry with me.
I have tried smiling in the fact that you were a part of our family and our lives; trying to be thankful for this. But every time I think of you my chin quivers, vision gets blurry and a lump creeps into my throat. Watching the characters appear becomes more indistinguishable and writing it down makes it feel like yesterday.
Seeing what a treasured creature you were in so many peoples' hearts that day was the most devastated I have ever felt. Such a kind soul and such a lovely family did not deserve this loss, no matter circumstance.

ecstacy, fear, hope, pain, confusion, live, happiness.
dancing feels like that all at the same time

Hanging my washing on the line, as most Sundays go, I saw how our orchard had flourished! The unusually freshly cut lawn encouraged me to seek the fruits (not of our labour) for taste testing.

Before now, venturing away from the concrete beneath the clothes line has been a daunting prospect as our lawn has been getting increasingly jungle- like. And my imagination holds me to believe it was the home of snakes and such species. 

This prospect no longer an issue, I got my ikea container and took to the mandarin tree with kitchen sheers. Then I found we also have an orange tree and began to prune that tree of its fruits too! I also stole mandarins off the part of the neighbours tree that is hanging over our fence because they weren’t so hard to reach for a smallish person. 

I’m quite in awe of this whole fruit-tree-in-my-backyard situation. I can go out there at any time and pick fresh fruit and gobble it. For free! Far out brussell sprout that’s super cool!

time

Einstein said time and space were as one which makes spacetime exist in a four dimensional world. Haven't quite grasped that. I don't really know if time exists as anything other than a man-made theory which exists to keep things relevant and in order. What exists is moments of order; nows. The only way time is detectable is between the relationships things have to each other, rather than absolute time; in which Einstein proved Newton was wrong anyway- through relativity. It's quite astonishing that a clock on the wall or a watch on one's wrist or merely devices that keep order. The most accurate time isn't even measured through ticking, but instead by measuring the isolations of super-cooled atoms which keeps time within one second to every 3.7 billion years. Very accurate.

The above is all research and factual information. (Probably fairly obvious unless you think I'm studying Quantum Physics at university.) This information does however allow the realisation of just how complex time is. In life I suppose this sort of information isn't usually very relevant. It won't change the order in which things happen or the schedule we run to. And it won't change the control that time has over us entirely. It appears that time has a grip that assumes our age, emotions, bodies, and relevance in life.
While that all sounds as if time has quite a choke hold on us it also gives everything relevance.
With time passed memories either fade or stay, people come and go and experiences become plentiful.

gardenvale road

I like to have time on my side in the morning. I like stopping to smell the roses- actually our street doesn't really have any roses to inhale. It has lots of various foliage and that is also quite a pleasant.

please get behind these x

http://www.facebook.com/events/250012185098059/?notif_t=plan_user_joined

http://www.facebook.com/GetWellPoon

http://beckymaynard.co.nz/index.html

SO GROOVY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ctAbqx2sOc&context=C48faeb0ADvjVQa1PpcFONFBV8vkIjitneC3Z2TCKZEu58WhJpalM%3D

the view

The problem with the view at the last time of entry was not the view, but rather where I was looking at it from.

Since migrating (west? i'm not great with compasses) the view doesn't have the height the old one used to, but instead it has a beach 15 minutes away.

Space is plentiful. That's probaly the main thing.

a view

Even though the sun is shining, there's a breeze that brings my hairs to a stand and gives me a shiver. Not in a spooky way, it's just the weather.

As I look out to the city, the high rises silhouetted a midst the hazey distance, I wonder what it is about this city that just hasn't quite won me over. It's not by a lot, but rather the smallest amount that irks enough to keep circling my head.

Whatever it might be, I would rather explore this metropolitan jungle trying to find out, than never seeing a thing.

As it goes for many things. While you cant fail if you don't try, it's no fun not trying at all. And thus far I get more answers doing than thinking. Perhaps a combination of the two.

Writing it ll down contributes fairly well too.

judgement

After much thought and battle with the word judgement, I've decided the word has a bad conatation that lives alongside it. In fact it is the one getting judged.

Many people seem to be scared of being judged. Scared that how they are judged might define them. Easy to forget you have a say in the matter yourself.
What's also forgotten is the good words, the compliments and the praises are also judgements, and these are worthy of memory. Alas! (Shakespeare moment) Humans remember what upsets them more than what makes them happy, at times.

And people can say they don't judge until the cows come home; but they do. And that doesn't always have to be seen as such a bad thing, in the end it's just one's opinion isn't it?

snippets

The snippets of lives we get let in on accidentally is a continually funny, odd, bewildering and quite-by-chance thing. From what people are wearing tonight, to how VCE went, holiday plans, and relationship woes, it is surprising how much you find out about a complete stranger, accidentally.

Public transport gives most of us this privilege..
It is fairly odd what you end up knowing about someone that you don't know from a grain of salt. And it's even stranger knowing that some of those things wouldn't even be told to those whom they do know.

It makes you think about the conclusions you draw from the little/lot of information you get from them. I suppose it all depends on context. Context is a largely important part of any piece if information you get. But if you don't get context with information you're hearing it's like reading a novel from the middle to the back to the front and back to the middle again; you can get a fair idea of what someone's trying to get at but some things just don't quite add up the way they would have if you started at the beginning.

I usually tend to wonder when I come across the snippets just what the other people around me are thinking too. Maybe they're thinking what i'm thinking. Maybe the'yre not. They might not care. And the MX is fairly interesting, so that becomes a factor I suppose.

In wondering all of that I then ponder how people sum each other up depending at what stage in life they have met. That person on the train being short with their child might be having a shit day, and everyday aside from this one they would win the world's best parenting competition. So you judge them on how they are exactly when you hear them or see them, which might actually turn out to be a completely warped view but you are left with it because it's what you saw. Or maybe they are an impatient person and today is the like any other day.

You'll never really know. But it gets interesting when you turn the whole theory back around on yourself and think about that.

Living the dream

When I look around me, it doesn't matter how long I have to wait for the train. Or if it's via the city loop. Or the fact people get on the tram faster than you can manage to get off. Or how expensive rent is for a matchbox minus a living room. Nor does it matter the fact that rather than seeing the light of day you're encased in a studio. The bruised knees recover, and the dying feet live to see another day.

Because that is all trivial.

What I do think of everyday is how lucky I am. I'm living the dream.

I don't care if it's not sparkly all the time, you'd get sore eyes anyway. And a few tears are shed along the way, some of them can be for joy. It doesn't matter if i'm broke from Jetstar and McDonald's.

This all comes with any lifestyle you live, so you may as well do it with the one you dream of.

lemon madelines

Sometimes when life throws you lemons, and they taste a wee bit sour and make you wince and cry quite a lot, you just have to make madelines.

Instead of the lemons being harsh and tart, they are soft and spongey and gooey and crunchy all at the same moment. They are the dessert that you have after one out of twenty eight dinners per month.

They are pricey, but then again priceless.

And in a city where so much seems to makes you think about a decision that instead you want to be sure of, they are the metaphor for the person that makes you feel like yourself.

This is the first time I have had lemon madelines and it is the start of quite a wondrous love affair.