Bella.la.la.

Surreal.Underground.Experience.

2012-11-13T22:11:00.003Z

Right well, this really was quite a while ago now but I honestly still have a good old chuckle when I remember the amazing performance by Wind-up Collective at Wilderness festival this summer. I was with the theatre company at the festival as their resident photographer, camping along side the merry bunch to ensure I'd get a snap of even their most out-of-character-portaloo-waiting-moments. The main purpose, of course, being to photograph them on stage at the bandstand, on a wonderfully constructed set of the London underground.

The London underground. Isn't it great? Especially at rush hour when somehow being in a complicated network of tunnels beneath the streets of London combined with the innate feeling that getting to our destination in the shortest possible time causes us to find it completely necessary & understandable to contort into yogic poses while the sweat of business men rubs delectably on our new shirt & a woman's work bag digs into our hip. Waiting for the next train in one minute isn't even a consideration. Such a fascinating ability to mess with the common sense we human's have a habit of priding ourselves on. Up above ground I am laughing at this absurdity, but at the same time am completely aware that in an hour or so I will be grumbling irritably about the 1 minute wait time for the next central line while giving evils to the man standing a millimeter over the yellow line...
Wind-up collective's performance shares a similar absurd thread as our rush-hour mindset - 'Box Junction' takes the audience - who sit along side the actors 'on the tube' - through a journey filled with shocks & scares as deep desires are realised through the unpackaging of a white cardboard box.

Performance at 1am, we hauled hay bails onto the Wilderness Festival bandstand to take centre stage as the tube seating. Two rows with long yellow (circle line!) poles creating a cramped awkward tube-like space. The aptly dress train guard then took to the microphone to call on all those festival dwellers ready to board the surreal underground experience to BOX JUNCTION.

1am at a festival? Can you imagine the audience we acquired? Drunk, high, fancy-dress, old, young...you name it, we had it.

I 
wish I could aptly describe the completely surreal experience that took 
place that night, but I'm afraid words just can't go there. However, if 
you check out these photographs, paying close attention to the 
audience's expressions, you may get some idea...And if you'd like your 
own face to make such expressions I'd highly recommend you keep an eye 
out for the next WIND-UP performance - it's bound to blow your mind.

http://wind-upcollective.com/Wind-Up_Collective/HOME.html

YES, A WIG IS COMING OUT OF HIS TROUSERS

AMAZING. oh yeah, 21st century update - follow them on twitter @WindUpCollectiv

Into.The.Widerness.

2012-09-24T10:22:00.002+01:00

In my last post I mentioned my fabulous acting friend Kat - who became even more fabulous when she asked me to join her theatre company at Wilderness Festival as their photographer. Such an exciting offer, I accepted immediately.

I've always loved a bit of a festival, my first one ever being a tiny hippy weekend in Headcorn, Kent called 'Small World - summer gathering'. Being newbies to the whole field frolicking & tent dwelling festival way of life, I turned up with a lovely suitcase on wheels & the most inappropriate footwear one could imagine...I did, however, have a box of wine which is definitely a step in the right direction. Smooth hair - not tangled into a mass of dreadlocks - certainly put me in the minority, as did my well hemmed clothes. The festival was five days long & since I wasn't used the experience of being dirty in a field in sunny, sweaty circumstances, I was rather keen for a wash. My chum Olivia felt the same on this matter so we were very excited when we spotted a tent inviting one in for 'sauna & shower' - bypassing the 'sauna' bit we were instantly decided, swimming costumes on & into the tent...Inside it soon transpired that bypassing the sauna part was a definite mistake as the experience was to get hot & sweaty in a hand built suana yurt followed by a solar-powered, temperamental shower head to rise off the apres-sauna-sweat with a trickle of cold water. Oh well, we thought - why not? There was just one more minor detail we only discovered when ushered through to the sauna - everyone was naked. Bits, bobs, boobs & dreadlocks hanging all over the show. ON SHOW. Nude hippies? Now that's a sight I'm probably never going to forget (aka erase from my mind...) Olivia & I considered the situation & concluded that we'd stand out much more if we kept on our swimming attire rather than remove it, so the decision was made & we de-clothes to join our fellow hippies to sweat out our toxins & feel the love.

Years down the line & I'd say I'm slightly more festival savy - for one, I understand the wonder of a 'wet wipe shower'. I've been to about 10 now - big & small - from Glastonbury & Bestival to Big Chill & Festibelly. I love them all. For a few years I've worked with Oxfam at festivals as a steward which is fab - only having to work three 8 hour shifts over the whole festival, you get a free festival ticket, free food & other perks like showers, separate campsites, tea & coffee...ideal. I really recommend it, chappies.
So off to Wilderness with Wind-up collective, we were in the Artist & Performers campsite which was great although while this meant I may have been in the loo queue with a high-flying musician, I certainly didn't recognise them.

Cruising around the festival, as one does, I spotted a tent hiding among some trees with a sign outside saying 'Life Drawing Classes'. How wonderful! My favourite activity in a field! So I popped in. A wonderful vibe - record player gently spinning tunes while the artists sat on hay bails, pillows & colourful blankets, using charcol & pencils to define the curves & flesh of the nude model sitting before us. 

At the end of the class I had a chat with the lovely woman who ran the class, telling her that I life model myself. One thing then led to another & I was signed up to return to the class the next day - but this time as the model! 

Oh, I really do get myself into the most bizarre things. Why not though, eh?! Bit of nudity in a field never hurt anyone. I don't think.

Acting.Out.

2012-09-16T13:13:00.000+01:00

There are many wonderfully creative & inspiring people in this world & feel rather lucky to know quite a number of these passion-flowing types. From nursery school when my best friend at 4 year old stood boldly in front of concert hall, belting out 'Little Donkey' to art school where a group of friends spent the night wrapping the Millenium Bridge in cellophane (seriously, it happened). It's great to be surrounded by those who understand the beautiful in the eye of an owl or the scales of a snake. Actually I am particularly not keen on snakes, but that is beside the point.

From musicians, artists & artisans, I also know some pretty great acting types. At Durham university I was involved with some theatre here & there - from set painting to photographing performances. A particularly memorable encounter with actors at Durham was when I spent a good session with the whole of my college theatre company - IN THE NUDE (just how I like them, of course). This wasn't quite as random as it sounds, I was asked to photograph the college of St.Hild & St.Bede's naked calender to be sold for charity.

A very good job for me I must say - the bits & bobs of Durham's finest clubs & societies flying all over the show with me & my camera here to snap it all up. A bit of side boob here & a cheeky bum cheek there, I was lovin' it. The theatre company were lots of fun with all their props & well devised facial expressions - shock, excitement, joy...they didn't need the slightest bit of direction from me.

My second favourite shoot of the calender was of the college's very own student rock club hosts - FULL COLLAPSE. This interesting night held in the Undercroft of the college plays Metal, Rock, Punk, Emo, Hardcore, Industrial and more alternative music, described to be belted out by the DJ at 'ear-bleeding volume!' every fortnight. I'm sure you can imagine, I was a regular.

...How wonderful...

So this lot really did their bit for my camera's eyes - bondage, nipple tassels, black leather knee-high boots, electric guitars & some tactfully placed records.

My third most thrilling shoot was of the college reps - the respectable lot who show all prospective students what we are all about. NAKED.
This lot were amazing - naked in the snow! At least there are a number of benefits of this - keep things perky, you know.

Recently a lovely old school friend of mine got in touch with the desire for me to take some headshots of her for her acting portfolio. Flattered to be asked, she rocked up to my house & we had a jolly time taking shots around the park & in my garden. We chose to take the photographs in the fresh air to keep them lively & light which I feel can be lost in a long session in a studio with artificial lighting & far more technical matters to attend to.

BEAUTIFUL BLUE-EYED BABE

The lovely Kat. http://www.castingcallpro.com/uk/view.php?uid=438127

21.st.of.JUNE? Oh.Dear.Bella.

2012-09-12T15:46:00.000+01:00

I am still a hardcore 'bits-&-bobs'-er but alas alack, since the 21st June I havn't been a hardcore 'blogger'. NOT IDEAL. I'm back & ready to sort out that situation.

Instead of updating the virtual world on my life over the last few months, I'm just going to cut to the chase of the most important recent activity of my life - I went to the zoo. London zoo. Know it? If you do not or have not ever been, I weep. Help me wipe away the tears & get down there immediately, okay? Giraffes in London town, I'm not even kidding.
Since getting back from South Africa my animal passion has intensified & I will now quite frankly travel far & wide to hang with some unusual furry fellas. The other day it was London zoo for my fix, getting there in good time to watch the penguins feeding party & otters munching on white mice. I walked around in complete glee, chatting to an owl here & a monkey there - standard Thursday afternoon, ya know.

A couple of my favourite zoo-y chums...

The funniest owls I've seen in my life. They look like little old men!

When I was little, for a few years running I had 'The Animal Man' at my birthday party. He would turn up in a van filled with creatures great & small - creepy crawlies & those of a soft & fluffy variety to keep the girls happy. I was all about the spiders & cockroaches - not your typical 6 year old. My favourite part of the party was when The Animal Man made me & all my party-goer friends lie down on our backs in a row to reveal our tummies (which is retrospect seems rather creepy, espically as The Animal Man was well into his fifties & had a van full of insects..) A 12 ft long snake would then be produced & laid over our bare flesh for us to squeal at it's cold, wet feeling skin.
Yes, I can definitely understand why I repeated that particular party on more than one occasion.

In South Africa I made an exciting adventure to a place in Cape Town called 'The World of Birds'. I'm sure you can imagine my emotional experience there - it was practically spiritual. Here are a few snaps from the day!

...The eye of nightmares

This poor friend had a bit of an eye problem. Life through one eye from an owl's perspective. I wonder what that's like. Magical, I imagine.

AND THIS BABE WINKED AT ME! BEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE.

owly owls la la la

And some other chums I made...

On.Top.Of.The.World.

2012-06-21T13:05:00.000+01:00

...Literally. Well, almost literally.

1,086 metres above sea level is certainly what I consider to be ON TOP ON THE WORLD. Table Mountain is at the northern end of a sandstone mountain range that forms the spine of the Cape Peninsula. To the south of the main plateau is a lower part of the range called the Back Table. On the Atlantic coast of the peninsula, the range is known as the Twelve Apostles. A pretty groovy name in my opinion. It's flat top - where the God's munch their lunch - is 3km from side to side with many paths to cruise along & get lost on the mountain top.

The second time I popped up the mountain it was the most gloriously sunny & so I wore bright yellow trousers to highlight my sunny disposition. I chose a path & set off on a merry jaunt, coming across many exciting creatures on my way. I made friends with a number of jolly lizards who were lazily soaking up the rays & chilling on the rocks. When I was younger I bloody loved lizards & would capture the little things & keep them in a bucket. Perhaps not the most friendly way of treating my new 'friends' but I loved chatting to them & watching them scurry all over the show. In South Africa I met a tiny lizard hanging out in a restaurant so I decided to readopt my old lizard capturing behaviour & set the chap into the wild. He was quite a fiesty thing & I had quite some trouble with this until I finally got hold of his tail...AND THEN it fell off! Apparently it's their defense mechanism but I must say it gave me quite a shock. The most unappealing thing then occurred...the decapitated tail continued wiggling back & forth. It really did have a mind of it's own. The tailless lizard eventually found the door himself & he ventured off in search of tail-growth hormones.

Most bizarre.

Bloody love a bit of Chinese tourist bum. Much better than the view.

...And check out what he was photographing in the background of us being strange on a rock...His family & their peace signs! Ideal.

Some mystical butterflies seem to have appeared in the photograph which is pretty cool.

I was chilling at the cafe when I suddenly spotted funny little fluffy creatures scurrying around - Dassies. A dassie is an African rodent found amoung rocky outcroppings. 

Dassies have hairy tails, but not bushy whereas the soles of their feet are distinctly bare and have pads. Their heads are 
noticeably flattened with a yellowish nose & tends to stand out. 
They have no underfur & are famous for being able to squeeze into extremely narrow crevices. 
This is accomplished due to their flattened skulls and flexible ribs. 

The most amazing fact about this funny little chappies is that their closest relatives are ELEPHANTS! I must admit that I can't see the relation but with a wild imagination it's possible to imagine a Dassie with big ears.

Cigarettes butts only? Poor chap must think he's a cigarette butt.

Sea.&.Sky.

2012-06-05T21:27:00.000+01:00

The view. I really have started taking the view for granted. I'm sitting here with a view on one side of the glorious sea & the view on the other of glorious mountains reaching well above the clouds but rather than contemplating their wonder I'm on my blaady laptop. What is this 21st century doing to me eh?

When I travel I'm a complete & utter culture vulture. Anything I can see & do, I'm on it like a rash. In Cape Town first things first - before the bizarre things to see & do, I had to seek out the main attraction - TABLE MOUNTAIN. Very aptly named, it quite frankly looks like a rather large table with a completely flat top for the Gods to munch their lunch off. Ideal. The mountain is visible from all over the city, rising 1,067m above sea level, it is just breathtaking.
1,067m high - I should climb it, right? Back in the day I was a bit of a climber. I went to an after school club called 'Challengers' where I learnt all kinds of outdoorsy business, from map reading to cooking pot noodles & ambrosia custard on a Trangia. Once a term I'd pop off with my fellow challengers to spend the weekend camping & putting our new custard heating skills into action. Oh & a bit of challenging things while we were at it - hiking, mountain biking, kayaking, climbing, abseiling & the like. We wore massive bright yellow & black waterproofs on these adventures to give the impression that a whole load of bumble bees were buzzing around on the Brekon Beacons.

Despite my previous life as Bear Grylls I decided not to climb Table Mountain when I heard about the rickety old cable car which could take me up the 1,067m in 10 minutes. Let's zoom up. I'm not going to chat too much about my incredible time at the top yet because I actually went back up yesterday so will write about it with my next lot of snappies.

Off now to contemplate the wonder of the view. So long modern technology.

The cable car was bloody amazing - glass all around & after the first few seconds the floor began to spin around! Panoramic views over Cape Town. Ooh la la.

Climbers! Oh ma gad, seeing them really gave me the willies.

After the height of the mountain, I cruised down to the low of the sea. The sun was setting & I chilled on a rock for some calm, technology free contemplation. 

The natural world is spectacular.

AND THEN SEALS! They were just having a little splish splash by the dock! A whole family - mum, dad, baby & perhaps an aunt (or uncle? Determining seal sex is not my forte, I must admit)

These seals appeared extemely jolly, twirling & floating in the water. A small fisherman chap threw them little fishes & they jumped out of the water to get their grub.

Happy little chappy. Ideal like a seal.

Sun.Rain.Strange.

2012-05-29T21:49:00.000+01:00

More colour yeah? Nice.

The weather in Cape Town is quite frankly out of this world. (I'm English so of course I'm talking about the weather) It literally experiences four seasons in a day - sunny as anything, I'm sitting on a deckchair praying that even with factor 50+ suncream I'll get some kind of tan - when suddenly, out of the blue (blue sky, literally) it starts pouring like a mentalist. I dash inside sodden wet & spend a good 10 minutes battling with firelighters, wood & a lighter. The fire eventually gets going & I set up camp with a jolly old book (with pretty pictures) & a sense of girl-scout achievement. At that very moment the sun pops out again & the day is back to the height of summer. Most frustrating, but certainly keeps one on ones toes! With all this business I see rainbows very often which is really wonderful. Invisible but visible colour in the sky. I think the Gods are doing a painting.

God, the creative creator.

On a bright blue sky day I decided to seize the opportunity to explore an area in Cape Town called Bo-Kaap, umbrella in hand. Bo-Kaap is a historic area which dates back to the 1700s when it was known as the Slave Quarter & was home to freed slaves & exiles from the east. The Muslim heritage is evident in its beautiful mosques & Muslim chapping cruising around. Bo-Kaap is on the slopes of Signal Hill with bright multicoloured rectangular houses lining steep cobbled streets.
This area really is quite a contrast to the rest of the city so I decided to explore & find out more. A wonderful man called Cyril Johnson led me on walking tours around the area where, in fact, he grew up on its streets. As the tour began he remarked - 'we are walking on my bedroom'!

At one point we bumped into two of Cyrils friends - two brothers, one older & one younger. They lived in shacks in the area & were on their way back their from buying some milk. They were very friendly & called Cyril the 'President' on the streets. The older brother told us a story of how he'd been shot in his bladder & it constantly leaks. He said he's trying to save the money to go to the hospital but it's very expensive. Such an awful story, but even as he told it he laughed & joked with his brother & was warm & friendly. What an amazing guy. Real life eh? Gosh.

Cyril let me right up to the top of the hill to a small shrine facing east. The views over Cape Town were spectacular & I enjoyed watching the seagulls flapping about.

After my Bo-Kaap adventure I went to the hotel where my parents were staying - Vineyard. We hung out & had tea in the beautiful garden when I spotted a rather large turtle munching on the grass. I sat near by & she slowly pottered over to say hello. Very friendly indeed.

A while later I went for a wander in the hotel garden when I
 came across my new turtle friend, still munching on the grass BUT this 
time something else was going on - SHE HAD A MALE ON HER BACK! Seriously, it was a bit of a shock, especially as she was still munching away at the grass. After a few minutes she really seemed fed up & started her slow-paced walk but the chap on her back didn't stop. I honestly believe I witnessed a rape. Most unpleasant turtle behaviour.

HE'S LOVIN' IT.

Pick.Up.A.Stone.Pick.Up.A.Penguin.

2012-05-24T21:35:00.000+01:00

I've always loved colour. I think it would be hard to see me & not gather from my general attire that I'm a colour fan. Fluorescent blue & pink 'Golddigga' trainers (two 'd's & two 'g's, of course), turquoise trousers & a red beret I always look like a rainbow spat me out. When I paint & draw there's always a colour injection - bright inks or Muji gel pens, the world needs to know that I'm no black & white gal.

I've also always been a fan of shiny things. My owl obsession started many years ago when I was cruising around an Italian market with my dad & came across the most bright & shiny owl-shaped bag. My dad turned his back in compulsion - the kitsch-est thing he'd ever seen. It was so bright & shiny it was lucky I was wearing my sunglasses because I tell you now - without them I'd certainly have been blinded. I was completely mesmorized - gold leather feathers & gold mental eyes. Out of this world. Despite my dad's disgust, I bought it immediately & used it every single day when I was at art school. He (the bag) was called Marmaduke & protected my paintbrushes & ink pots with it's life.

So I love colour, shiny things & something else - gemstones. I've always loved gemstones, bringing me onto the point of my story - relating things back to my South African adventure. I heard talk of a place where gemstones covered the ground - colourful & shiny - where one could go & collect them. My dream. It's called the Scratch Patch & I sprang at an opportunity to go & experience the wonder for myself. The sun was shinning & I sat collecting gemstones which completely surrounded me. I filled a bag for on 150 rand - about £1.50! I've turned them into beads & have been making Scratch Patch gemstone earrings like a mentalist (look forward to your Christmas presents chappies!)

Having said I'm no a black & white gal, I must admit that the next activity after my colourful shiny experience couldn't have been more black & white - checking out...PENGUINS! Yes, African penguins maxin' & relaxin' on a beach. I kid you not. The really were the most funny looking creatures, wobbling around & enjoying the good life. The beach where they chill is called Boulders Beach & is on the coast in a beautiful little place called Simon's Town.

What companionable guys! I want to be a penguin.

Very cosy.

I think these two (bellow) were gossiping about the strange blond girl staring at them because she was carrying a whole load of gemstones. Very strange indeed.

Yo, s'up? 

Not much. Just havin a bud. Ya know.

True.

I think the chappie (above, right) is doing what I call a 'Marilyn Manson'. If you get me.

The one bellow was far more innocent - collecting sticks for his nest.

Mr penguin (bellow) spotted a potential love interest but felt shy in his approach...She seemed keen enough & I have hope that he'll be building a nest soon too.

Township.Tales.

2012-05-17T17:49:00.000+01:00

So I arrived in Cape Town with two suitcases stuffed full with all sorts of random arty bits & bobs - inks, pens, oils, sketchbooks, felt, sewing kits, beads, wire...you name it...and my blaady massive camera in my hand luggage. Looking like a true touristy brit with my big sun hat & carrying a million & one things as I passed through customs, I was - of course - stopped & search. I am most suspicious. The man doing the search was rather unpleasant & asked me how much all my posessions were worth. A bit of a tricky question - the arty bits & bobs were merely tuppence, but the camera was a slightly different story...I stuttered & rambled a bit until he got bored & let me through, thank goodness.

As I drove from the airport I was completely taken aback by the wonder of the place - mountains rising around the city, reaching into the clouds & shining in the sunlight. The awe-inspiring & aptly named Table Mountain completely recognisible with it's vast flat top. I bet the God's have the lunch off that. I was also struck by the townships we drove by - colourful corrugated iron shacks crowed together, clothes hanging in long washing lines & people all around. It was fascinating.

Very keen to visit explore I was met by a jolly chap who lives in one of Cape Town's townships & he led me proudly through the streets of his life. Kids running around, people chatting & I had a wonderful peak into a tiny room filled with men having their hair cut.

Above is a snap of the bar inside one of the township pubs. It was a small, dark room with a low ceiling & peeling wallpaper, but I was assured that it was the hip & happenin hotspot after dark. 

They hand out free condoms.

In contrast, bellow are snaps of their church. Also quite a hotspot, I'm told. Despite the poverty in the living space of the people here, I was struck by the strong faith  in the community. There was a little shop next to the Church selling handmade things to support the Church. The woman working there was physically handicap but was really so warm & welcoming. Very humbling to speak to her.

I bought a 'Township Teddy' which is made from bits & bobs of 
rubbish - car tyres & the like. My chum was a little shocked when 
she saw my new teddy, but i assured her that it has a sweet nature, 
despite it's peculiar appearance.  

Blue wellies! How convenient!

Such delectable food, it really was a shame that I'd just had lunch. Really. Apparently chicken feet (those appertising yellow things in the snap above) are a real delicacy. 

This amazing elephant was created by some kiddies living in the township. Is that an owl I spot??

I bought a necklace from WELCOM TO CRAFT SHOP. Bright & colourful beads made from rolled recycled paper. Very cool.

Somewhere.South.

2012-05-12T17:43:00.000+01:00

I'm back, black & ready for action.

Back?- not exactly...still in South Africa! Metalist.

Black? - again, not exactly - factor 50+ suncream has forbid it.

Ready for action? Damn straight - bella.la.la. is always blaaady ready for action.

The kind of action I've been ready for may seem a little strange to those of you who take slightly less pleasure from insects, trees, dirt and the like, but for me, photographing the most peculiar bits & bobs in & around Cape Town is the most wonderful way to take action. Snap this, snap that.

So yes, for my next few posts I'm going to tell you stories from my adventures - nothing will be too insignificant to be mentioned, from the teeny weeny red beetle I had a chat with as he pottered along, to the praying mantis I befriended after nearly stepping on the poor chap - each encounter has inspired me & helped me connect with the world around me in profound ways. I’ve seen so many wonderful things, from townships to turtles, penguins & seals. Ooh la la. My new camera has also been pretty instrumental in this snapping business - before I came I realised it was time to go a bit crazy & get a new camera. In fact my parents were keen to buy me one for my 21^st birthday present but after a lot of research, indecision & debate, I decided in my usual ‘last-mintue.com’ way to get a Canon 60D the day before my flight out here (one & a half years after my 21^st birthday). Packing was unimportant, the camera had taken complete priority – dashing all over town like a mentalist from one Jessops to another, only to find 60D out of stock. Not ideal. Manic calls here & there until I was on the phone with Darrel, a chap with a hunky voice who works Dixons in Heathrow terminal 5 who confirmed a Canon 60D in stock…risky business making a deal with Darrel but it was my last chance. I called him about 10 times that night to make sure the camera was STILL there & then a few times the next day on my way to the airport...until I found myself face to face with Darrel & my spanking new camera. Beautiful. It really is my new best friend. (Darrel wasn’t a hunk by the way. Quite weedy in fact. What a shame)

I also bought some bright pink headphones in Dixons terminal 5. Now I can listen to Gregorian chants to my hearts content. Ideal.

So off I flew – me, myself, camera, pink headphones & I. And so the story begins.

This is Frank my praying mantis friend. When I met him he wasn’t praying but I definitely felt his holy vibes…before our encounter I believe he was on his way to Church, but I cannot be certain. His soppy eyes drew me to him & we became instant friends. We hung out for a while until he started having a bit of a nibble on my bracelet which I took as a sign – poor Frank is hungry. I had a little cranberry hanging about so offered it up & I must say he was a big cranberry fan.

Before.I.Flew.

2012-04-01T19:48:00.000+01:00

Blaady hell (I don't like to swear so substituting the 'o's for 'a's makes it ok, right? Good.) So yes, BLAADY HELL, I really havnt been living my bloggin lifestyle the last few weeks, eh? I feel ashamed, however there is a reason for taking my 'part-time bloggaar' personna to another level - I am in South Africa! No jokes kids, no jokes. And when one is in South Africa, is one spending time on a computer?? I think not. One is rather contemplating a mountain or chilling with a zebra (or at least I am - I'm sure there are some other possible activities to do here, but personally I'm all about the mountains & the strippy chappies). Many tales, TAILS (of a zebra) & snaps to follow, but before news of here surfaces, I must catch up on my life before I fled the Motherland.

If you have been reading my blog or indeed spoken to me I'm sure you know that I have quite a 'thing' about pennies. Yes, I said PENNIES not PENISES, okay? What dirty minds you have. Over the last few months I became rather obsessed with picking up pennies from the street. Walking along, my eyes would constantly be darting here & there, looking for something shiny to pop into my pocket & bring me good luck. In the evening it would be transferred into a glass jar to save for a rainy day.
Just before I left London I decided that the rainy day had come - it was time to find out what the street had earned me. I know I have a tendency to involve myself in painstaking tasks - separating individual tiny beads according to their colour, cleaning the oven - but I drew the line at penny counting. Instead, I took my somewhat heavy load of coins to Sainsbury's on a mission to use the coin converter machine. This machine was something of a fantasy to me - when my friend told me about it I was sure something so magical couldn't be real - but I tell you now, it was real. IT WAS AMAZING.

I threw my coins in & after the most wonderful jangling noises, out popped a receipt telling me the exact break down of what I had! And guess what? The street gave me £39.11. Thank you street.
Street, you've made me rich.

Here are a few street pennies that I'm sure have seen better days...It's a hard life living on the street, huh penny?

THE FACTS

Something else rather magical occurred in my last few days in London. I had many bits & bobs to get done before my trip – to start with I needed to buy a suitcase – but all these matters were unimportant when the chance of a life drawing class came up. Of course, who needs to pack when there’s a naked body in a room with lots of paper, pens & ink? I knew I wouldn’t be going to a class for a while, so it was very important for me to get my last fix. When I arrived at the class, a DRESSED lady was posing in the centre of the room – the life model hadn’t turned up! I couldn’t blaady believe it! I waited in irritation, hoping she’d arrive, but when she didn’t & a clothed man took the place of the woman to do the most ridiculous poses in the centre of the room I decided to leave…but then…I had an epiphany – I’ll pose! Of course!

I’ve always wanted to be a life model & it seemed like fate – my last class for a while & there was no model. So I whipped off my clothes – panties & all and modelled in front of the class I am usually part of…some half hour poses, other 15 mins, some quick ones…I have to say that it was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I was no longer the artist, I WAS THE ART. It felt so natural. Everyone in the class commented on my stillness…they thought I must have done it before. I hadn’t, but my gosh I WILL! It’s my new career, seriously. My new career in my birthday suit.

It was so cool looking at all the drawings of me…One chap – a rather large and slightly pervy – gave me one of his quick watercolours to keep. I scanned the pick for you all to see. Oh, you lucky lot - YOU’VE SEEN ME NAKED!

Hangin.With.Swans.

2012-03-02T23:44:00.001Z

LIGHT. Natalie in studio light. Natalie in NATURAL LIGHT. Wonderful.

I went to an exhibition at the V&A Museum a while ago called 'Shadow Catchers : camera-less photography'. Photography - camera-less? Really? Up until this point I'd always believed a camera was pretty much key to the practise of photography, but goodness me was I wrong! Camera-shamera eh? Without using a camera it is possible to create images on photographic paper by casting shadows & manipulating light, or by chemically treating the surface of the paper...such incredible effects - not created from a 'negative' but encountered as fragments, traces, signs, memories or dreams, they leave room for the imagination, transforming the world of objects into a world of visions. The most common camera-less photography techniques are the photogram, the luminogram and the chemigram.

Ooh la la that was a bit of a divergence from what I was originally going to chat about...but my memory of that V&A exhibition sprung to mind & I remembered how exciting camera-less photography & light manipulation are. Far too much fun. But right now I'm chatting about natural light...the wonderful sun & it's rays. That big chappy in the sky who pop in & out of our lives - lighting my beautiful friend Natalie while we cruised around town taking snaps.
I absolutely love photographing passionate people - musicians, artists, dancers...& my chum Natalie is definitely a pretty passionate person. Everything from her deep connection with fish-fingers & ketchup on toast, to organising an elaborate ball in a castle, she has passion. A particular life passion of hers is with dancing. A bit of contemporary here & there, she's always been ballet dancer & this is how I photographed her in the studio at college in Newcastle - Pointe shoes & perfect poses.
After the success & fun we had on our first shoot together, Natalie & I decided to give it another go - this time taking her out of studio light into natural light. Natural light in London - ballet snaps in an urban environment. Pointe shoes & pavements.

As I explained in my last post, I absolutely love capturing movement in my work. For these shots in the park & made Natalie jump up about a hundred times for me to get the shot I wanted...lucky her. (Bear in mind the January temperatures & her skimpy attire. There was definitely still snow on the ground)

 The light changes as my model hangs in the air...

We wandered through Hyde park to the round pond. So many duckies hanging around & a perfect sunset - it was magical...

...Magical UNTIL I fell in the pond. Yes, I did. Not quite sure how it happened, but somehow just being myself & being near a pond, the inevitable had to happen. Not exactly ideal.

Snap.&.Twirl.

2012-03-02T00:45:00.001Z

Speaking of light in the darkness, I must add that I'm also quite a fan of light in the light. Yes, quite a fan.

I absolutely love nature - everything about it really. The colours, the freedom, the growth, the inspiration, the joy, the light...natural light is spectacular. Without natural light & it's glorious playfulness, would Monet's lily-pads ever have received such appreciation? I think not (except by a frog that happened to be chilling near them in the river. Maybe) At college in Newcastle, however, I was encouraged to learn & appreciate a different kind of light - studio lighting. 'Unnatural', 'harsh', 'too bright' were all words that sprung to mind - nothing like the wonderful light in nature that changes as the day progresses - studio light is set. It doesn't change. It's man-made. It relies on electricity & technology - not my favourite combination of forces, I must say. Despite these initial feelings towards shooting in a studio setting I realised that it's pretty much essential in the world of commercial photography, so shunning it in this way may not be the best idea for my future career prospects...

Several lectures, studio demonstrations & class discussion later & I must say, I was being won over. It's quite remarkable, that studio lighting business! Yes rather remarkable indeed. Really incredible effects can be created & light can be manipulated exactly as one desires. How convenient...I'm sure Monet would have appreciate a little more convenience with the lighting conditions he experienced - as the natural light faded he'd have to stop painting, but studio lighting doesn't fade as time goes on. I realised that this was really very convenient for me - the serious perfectionist that I am...all the time in the world. Lucky model.
For one project we were required to carry out a 'High Key' lighting photoshoot in the studio. High key lighting aims to reduce the lighting ratio present in the scene, creating bright images full of light & mostly white tones. the kind of snaps you'd see in glossy magazines of models advertising make-up or hair bits & bobs. Bright, light & fun. No drama. For my photoshoot I decided to use my beautiful ballet dancer friend Natalie in her full ballet dancing attire. To prepare for the shoot I whacked some fake eye lashes on the lass & plastered her face with make-up. I did this, not because she needs lots of make-up - she's a true natural beauty - but because the number of lights & flashes on her make heavy make-up a priority. We had so much fun in the studio - twirling here & there, snapping here & there. Ya know, doing our favourite things. Ballet & photography. Love & love.

I also want to capture movement in my work - drawing & photography. The next few snaps are some from capturing Natalie as she danced around.

And then I simply had to join in. With a tea pot, of course.

Light.In.Darkness.

2012-02-20T12:02:00.002Z

Light. Colour. Music. Painting. Photography. Let's combine it all and have a bit of fun yeah?

At photography college in Newcastle I learnt many exciting things. Each module we studied consisted of lots of technical matters & reports to write, with some sort of creative, practical element to really get my juices following. A particular favourite project was all about shooting in low light conditions...low light to the point of complete darkness. You'd be surprised, but complete darkness is my favourite kind of low light condition. A place were nothing can be seen, except maybe the eyes of an owl, if one happened to be hanging around. It was one freezing evening in Newcastle when we were instructed to meet in a rather unappealing location - by an overgrown expanse of woodland by a main road - with a digital SLR camera, tripod, torch & Quality Street chocolates. Led through the unappealing woodland, hopping & tripping over rocks & sticks, we arrived at an even more unappealing building - a half crumbling bungalow covered in graffiti, emitting a rather unpleasant smell of alcohol & wee. Torches were lit & we ventured inside, snaking through a maze of drafty rooms littered with broken glass & down stone stairs to a large hollow room where we set up our tripods facing a graffiti covered wall, in front of which out enthusiastic tutors were setting torches of fire & sparklers alight. A crazy, surreal demonstration of 'Light painting' - setting the camera on a high ISO, shallow depth of field & long shutter speed - we could capture the most incredible shots. Having had our demonstration we spent the rest of the evening creeping around the neglected building to have fun with our new tricks.

The Quality Street chocolates, by the way, were quite frankly a key ingredient in the whole affair. As well as providing us with a necessary sugar rush & injection of pleasure in the cold night air, we used their coloured opaque wrappers as filters on our torches. By doing so the light painting could be taken to another level of creativity where chocolate, art & photography formed an unlikely connection.

Around the time I was working on my 'Painting with Light' project, I chilled with my chum Will from the band 'Stokes, William' & my enthusiasm for the process seeped into our conversations. He liked the sound of some sort of chocolate-wrapper-darkness-photography technique & we planned for me to do a shoot of his band. So one weekend when they were hanging out in a barn doing some recording, I gathered my Quality Streets, Camera & tripod & we had an exciting night of torches, experimentation & darkness.

To create these photos, the guys had to stand still in a completely dark room - posing, instruments in hand. Still, in darkness, I sent my camera to ISO1600, f3.5 & a shutter speed of up to two minutes long. Once the shutter was released I made my way to the figures & used my torch to 'paint' around them. In some of them, I knelt down infront of them to spell out 'Stokes, William' (backwards) with a torch.

A rather tricky process to explain, an even trickier process to carry out...

For these photos here, the musicians weren't actually holding any instruments - they were created by using a torch to 'paint' the instruments in the air from the imagination AND in complete darkness. Easy? Not exactly. But effective? I certainly think so.

Stokes.William.

2012-02-09T23:15:00.001Z

Satisfy the senses. Happy ears - listen to music. Excited touch - dance. Amazed eyes - go to a concert.

(Uncomfortable nose, sweating people gyrating next to you. Small detail)

I like my senses to feel well treated & it's music that helps me fulfill the sense loving role. My love of live music began back in the day when I went to Bosun's Locker every Friday night for a hoe-down. Bosun's Locker was (sadly is no longer) a small bar in the basement of the Cornish Pasty shop on the Kings Road where singers & swingers alike would gather to play music & have a boogie. Such a jolly affair. It was a very folky scene - cowboy boots, checked shirts & waistcoasts were pretty much uniform. Winston Marshall (the now famous banjo player of the folk band Mumford & Sons) ran the nights at the venue & would play his country & folk tunes with a big group of friends, most of whom went on to become pretty big names in the 'West London folk scene' - Charlie Fink & Tom Hobden from Noah & the Whale, King Charles, Johnny Flynn..to name a few Bosun's regulars. And then there was the small blond 15 year old girl who spoke in a quiet voice & had to be forced to the stage to get her to sing. She was timid & painfully shy but her stage presence captivated the audience into a mesmorized trance as her strong voice rose above the chatter, culminated in a stunned silence. This young girl was Laura Marling, the quiet girl with an extraordinarily powerful voice & breath-taking lyrics. If you havn't heard her, do it. RIGHT.NOW. Quite remarkable. Alas, I cannot swim.

Another great cowboy boot wearing chappy on the scene was Will Stokes. Will Stokes who wears headbands & sings 'I'm the king of the swingers' like a true jungle VIP. A few years ago he joined forces with friends from here & there to start the band 'Stokes, William'. It's his surname & forename jiggled around, yeah? Cool.

Stokes, William are a wonderful collaboration of some seriously talented musicians playing all manner of instruments - bangos, trumpets, drums, a double bass...all that jingles really. I've seen them perform live many times & they are bloody brilliant. So much energy & vibrancy on stage, the whole crowd cannot help rockin' out like mentalists. The songs are powerful & full of depth - fear, hope & strengh permeate through them in a captivating way.

'She said you're fine - you beleive in God. And I said, yes, but the truth is, I'm terrified...' (Honesty Box)

'My weak heart years for more - though I am young, I know my weakness soars' (Zion) 

'Sometimes it feels like letting love show is like lighting a candle & putting it in the snow' (In/Of The World)

The last Stokes,William gig I went to was their EP launch at Hoxton Bar & Grill. The place was completely packed & the energy & atmosphere was electric...If you ever have the chance to see them perform, take it my friends. TAKE IT. You won't regret it.

Waves:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txN_BLWA0AE&feature=related

Abraham & Isaac:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ht9pfUJyIY8&feature=related

Creatures.Of.Colour.

2012-02-03T11:57:00.000Z

Ok, I need to stop banging on about nudity before people start to wonder...but before I do I'm going to give you a bit of a taster of some of my recent sketches.

My style at the moment is quite line based with intense bursts of colour. I absolutely love colour...I see my life in colours. Whenever I start colouring my figures I feel an overwhelming sense of excitement bubbling up inside me. It's hard to explain, but it's a pretty great feeling. I wish I could colour the world in deep amethyst, electeic crimson, ultramarine, mint green, cobalt blue...Yes, the suggestion of taking lots of acid pills may help me with this desire, but people seem to think I'm on drugs much of the time anyway so I'd prefer to colour the world with the power of my mind, rather than the power of drugs.

There were two models in the class I was in last week which was rather interesting - a woman with beautiful black skin, roughly in her fifties & a young rather awkward chap. I think the chap was new to the whole exercise & gave the impression of being somewhat uncomfortable in a small studio surrounded by an anonymous group of people, all flailing pens, paper & ink here, there & everywhere whilst staring intently at his manhood. I watched him undressing out the corner of my eye (didn't want my gaze in his direction to be too direct of course - he'd probably have run a mile) & had a little chuckle as I watched him drape himself in a towel & adjust his bits & bobs in an uneasy manner. I really do think it would be quite a nerve-wracking experience for a guy to life model - would they sit in constant fear of being aroused? I imagine so...or perhaps I'm being too crude, perhaps nothing of the sort would cross their mind. As long as no attractive class attendees start flicking their hair back & forth.

Over the last few weeks at my life drawing class there have been two models on seperate occasions who are pregnant. The first woman was quite heavily pregnant, while the second was in the early stages of her pregnancy (the last two drawings on this post are of her...spot her little bump emerging?). I really enjoyed drawing these woman...such womanly woman with a mini person hanging out inside them whilst I drew.

How wonderful.

My.Bits.

2012-01-29T22:10:00.000Z

I absolutely love to draw. I think I could quite frankly spend my whole time drawing. At the moment I have an obsession with Muji gel fine-liner pens & have them in every colour under the sun. I actually feel naked without the black pen on me at all times - which leads me onto my next point - feeling naked. BEING naked. Oh, nudity.

I love drawing people in their birthday suits, the way they first popped out. Boobs, bums & bouncy bits couldn't be more ideal when my Muji pens are about. I went to my first ever life drawing class when I was 15 year old at a family friend's house. Her name is Joy & she is the most excentric person I know - gray hair tied in 70's style hair scrunchies on the top of her hair, wearing the most bizzare & excletic mix of materials & colours...(saying this I've just realised she may have had some subconscious influence on my current style? Although the hair scrunchy has yet to catch on). She lives in an amazing studio flat which is literally rammed full on sculptures. Her late husband was a sculptor & they fill every possible space in her flat, hanging with cobwebs & blanketed with a layer of dust. The nudey life model precariously posing on a raised wooden block drapped in velvet material, rose from the sculptures as our own living sculpture as we squeezed ourselves between bits of marble & stone to face our easels. A completely mesmorising experience, instantly securing a life long love of drawing the human form. I remember proudly telling my art teacher at school about the class who responding in a less than enthusiastic way - apparently it was 'inappropriate' for someone under the age of 15 to go to a life drawing class. Honestly, I have baths. I know what it looks like.
Most peculiar, but then again, she was a teacher at the same school where make-up & jewelry were forbidden, skirts had to practically touched the ground & speaking to boys was considered a sin. We also meditated every morning, chanted in Sanskrit throughout the day, ate vegetarian food & had cross-stitching lesson. But that, of course, is quite another story.

I really feel very grateful to life drawing. It's wonderful to have something to be so passionate about & to know that it'll make me feel like a chilled out bean whenever I do it. I almost feel like I owe something of myself to the practise & have felt for quite some time now that I should become a life model to say thank you.
I'm naked to say thank you to other people for being naked. I've drawn your bits, now you can draw mine.
We have a tea break half way through the weekly life drawing class I go to & I always enjoy to have a bit of chat with that weeks model in this time. Such a range of types seem to life model, a particular favourite is an 18 year old girl who works full time as a nude model, often posing for photographers (reading between the lines she doesn't mind a bit of eroticism in these circumstance. Eroticism in the name of art, of course). Another fab model is from Slovakia & works as a photographer & make-up artist. She modeled in last weeks class & lo & behold she's now pregnant! Very jolly to draw the little bump I must say. Very jolly indeed. The models I've chatted to have given me advice about getting into life modelling & soon enough I'll be at my first 'Spirited Bodies' event flaunting my bits & bobs infront of anyone who wants to whip out a pen & paper.

The chappy who runs the life class I go to is involved with the Portobello Art Gallery. He helped organise an exhibition of local artists so I submitted some of my little drawings. I popped along to the private view & almost passed out when I spotted he'd priced them at £70 & there was a little red dot. A red dot?! Sold! Almost far too exciting. My first ever exhibited piece was sold. I still can't believe it. Ooh la la. 

See, everyone loves a bit of nudity.

We.Need.Stuff.

2012-01-21T09:40:00.001Z

What is it with people & their stuff? I watched a stand-up comedian on youtube musing over our necessity to have stuff - 'if you didn't have so much goddam stuff you wouldn't need a house...' An interesting concept, although I admit to taking comfort in the running water & heating benefits of my house, the number of surfaces on which stuff can be accumulated are simply ideal & the amount of seemingly random & perhaps rather useless stuff which fills my every nook & cranny certainly requires a house. Bits of paper, owls, material, owls, clothes, owls, bags, owls, accessories, owls, books, owls, stationary, owls, ornaments, owls, & so on that swim around on my bedroom floor, one would be forgiven for believing that Bella's dwelling spot does not in fact HAVE a floor. I have an extremely tidy friend who's habits verge on the side of OCD - pens sit in neat lines on her desk while her toothpaste hangs in it's own little pouch attached to the wall above her sink. Very sweet. I think this chum is quite frankly dumbfounded by my 'stuff' accumulating habits & would like to drown me in a blanket of her positive influence under which a summer photo album isn't precariously balancing on a pile of GCSE notebooks. She actually tried to help me get rid of some of my stuff, exclaiming in quite an alarmed manner throughout the process - Bella, what on earth is this!? A broken torch? An empty match box? Surely you don't need this kinder surprise toy circa 1995? Why keep bracelets which have lost their beads? To each of her questions I refuted strongly, explaining that all my stuff really is necessary in one way or another. An empty matchbox? It's to store paper clips, of course! The broken bracelets? I'll remold them into earrings! Durrr. An hour & a half later all she'd persuaded me to throw away was two beads the size of a couscous. And even that I regretted.
I am a lost cause.

Right, well I've chatted about some of my bedroom stuff so let's now move onto my bag stuff. The stuff I take when I'm going here & there. I simply could not leave the house without a bag of stuff, filled to the brim with all the necessary things which provide a sense of security when faced with the outside world. The basics - eyeliner, lipstick, a few make up brushes, some cover-up, bottle of dry shampoo, vaseline, a comb, pens, pencils, a rubber, my diary, oyster card, purse, keys, a hat, a bottle, my camera, ipod, the metro, the Sunday Times magazine, tea, contact lens solution, tissues...all pretty straight forward? Despite the quantity, you can understand my need for those things? Ok, now here's the test - try & work out the necessity for some of the other bits & bobs found lurking in my bag (you may struggle, but trust me, EVERY has it's purpose). More bag stuff: knitting needles, wool, a bag of felt, buttons, a sewing kit, cotton wool, an electric lint remover, a stanley craft knife, Indian black ink pot, a shoe insole, a single earring, used coffee cups...I could go on. As a result of my bag situation I often have a painful left shoulder. Maybe I should leave the electric lint remover at home more often. Maybe.

As well as all the above listed baggy bits & bobs, I also always carry a sketchbook. At the moment It's a little Indian one with recycled paper. I draw in it at any opportunity - simply anything in my sight at the given moment. More useful than the used coffee cups in my bag? Who knows.

I've chatted before about making books. Below is one I made & took with me on the 'Chi Kung' retreat I went on a few weeks ago (wrote about it in my last blog post, in fact). Check out some of my strange diagrams trying to explain the practise in the hand-made book bellow!

Since going on the retreat I've been practising Chi Kung every morning for 15 minutes. It's a great routine & I find it good to fully relax before the hectic STUFF filled day begins.

And yes, the movements really do have names like 'Beautiful butterfly dances in front of flowers', 'Pushing mountains' & 'Raising the sky'. It may sound completely nutty, but I find it completely wonderful.

http://www.fullyalive1.blogspot.com/

Chill.Your.Beans.

2012-01-15T12:00:00.000Z

I'm rather keen on alternative things. By this I don't mean 'hipster alternative', like all that East London business, I simply mean things which are in some way a bit different or perhaps rather unusual. Going blackberry picking in the rain by a prison on my 21st birthday, for example. Taking photographs of barbed wire. Collecting rubbish.
I am also referring to my interest in alternative therapies & practices. I'm a little bit of an odd paradox - being very chilled out & easy going, I also have quite a tendency to stress like a mentalist. I worry about the most ridiculous things & sometimes find it a bit tricky to remind myself how ridiculous I am being. For example, the simple matter of going to bed. I want to get ready for bed - brush my teeth, take out contact lenses, remove my blue mascara, tweeze my eyebrows - but I can't get around to doing it because I'm sewing or something instead so then I start worrying that if I don't stop sewing & carry out my abulitions soon I'll go to bed too late & then be tired the next day. The later it gets, the more I worry about it getting later & being more tired. Honestly, BELLA JUST GO TO BED. So yeah, a little of my irrational worry patterns for you. I'm very keen to stop being such a worrier so have been to mindfulness classes, practice yoga & dabble meditation now & then. My New Years resolution is to stress less, chill my beans & live in the moment.

My recent alternative discovery has been Chi Kung. Chi Kung is the practice of aligning breath, movement & awareness for exercise, healing & meditation. With roots in Chinese medicine, martial arts & philosophy, Chi Kung is traditionally viewed as a practice to balance chi - a persons 'intrinsic life energy'. The practice involves rhythmic breathing, coordinated with slow stylized repetition of fluid movement & a calm mindful state. From a philosophical perspective Chi Kung is believed to help develop human potential, allow access to higher realms of awareness & awaken one's 'true nature'. I've been going Chi Kung classes in London for a while now & got jolly excited when my teacher told me about a weekend course he was organising called 'Fully Alive: Energy flow for Health & Happiness'. Seriously, how ideal does that sound?

So I signed up immediately, knowing no one else going or much about it, only that it was at a retreat in East Sussex by the sea. The retreat was a family run house with animals hanging around & barns to sleep in. It was really wonderful. All rustic with fires & home cooked food. We were an extremely eclectic bunch, I must say. About 15 of us - ranging from Paul, a tall & rather large plasterer with a handle-bar mousache who complained that he wouldn't have come if he'd know the food who be vegetarian ('I don't want to become a vegetabilist! I need meat!') to Rene, a completely lovely yoga teacher from Norway. Then of course there was me - the girl in green trousers who went around taking photos of barred wire, bits of string & leaves.

The program was quite intense, learning & practising the art of Chi Kung from 9-6pm each day, but I found it really wonderful & has been helping my sort out my going to bed situation. Since the retreat I do the 15 minute practice each morning. My chi is flowing like a mentalist right now. Ideal.

Cookers.&.Crackers.

2012-01-10T00:50:00.001Z

Right, I am very behind the times, but all the jolly Christmasy business made my life rather hectic for a few weeks. The Christmas tree is down and M&S are selling chocolate Easter bunnies, so I guess it's time to move on. Most sad. But before I officially fold up my Rudolf panties until next year I'll give a quick run down of some festive bits & bobs.

A while ago I popped along to the Avenue Cooking School with my brother for one week to do 'The REALLY USEFUL cooking course'. 'Really useful' as in 'it's okay if you don't know how to crack an egg (my brother...seriously), we'll hold your hand through it..' It was a fun-fish-pie-victoria-sponge-lasagne-filled week in which we not only learnt the art of the perfect white sauce, but also how to tie a bow tie, change a car tyre & get wine out of the carpet. I don't consider myself to be a mini Nigella Lawson but like to think that since the course I've got a few Kitchen tricks up my sleeve - up my APRON - I mean (ah such a chef pun. Told you I had it). So while I was hanging in Durham right before Christmas my chums & I decided to have a mulled wine & mince pies party & being a 'really useful' semi-pro, I volunteered immediately to make the pies. Naah probs.

Well, slight probs. Mince meat, what? So...does it have like actual meat in it? How bizarre! Thank goodness I was stopped in my tracks before raiding Tescos meat & poultry section by a friend who happened to have a big jar of mince meat hanging about. Perhaps a little cheating, but I'll make the pastry, naah probs. Well, slight probs. Pastry - bake blind? Does that mean I should wear a blind fold? How bizarre! Thank goodness I was stopped once again by another friend before I set about tying a scarf over my eyes & getting involved with a hot oven - Bella you can buy ready-made pastry. Perhaps a bit more cheating, but I'll roll it out to maintain some kind of authenticity.

Unfortunately the only pastry I could find in Tescos was pre-rolled pastry. So there was me - promising to make the creme de la creme of mince pies, inspired by a week's cooking course - with mince pies made from pre-rolled, pre-minced mince meat. Shame. At least I made them look pretty (sort of).

Then there was Christmas day. Too jolly. We spent it, like every year for as long as I can remember, with our friends the Bluffs who ACTUALLY had their own Christmas napkins made. Now that's what I call hardcore Christmas appreciation. They really know how it's done. Seriously, everything from the Christmas tree shaped soap to bottled water with Santa hats - their house is quite frankly the most wonderful Christmas grotto one could ever imagine.

And I rather enjoyed the abundance of Christmas socks poking around...most festive...

CRACKER JOKES LITERALLY MAKE MY LIFE. POLLYFILLA BAAAHAHAHAHAHA.

Various dinner parties - this one particularly jolly - there were 12 of us & we all had to bring a dish & cosidering most of the group have somewhat competitive sides, we ended up with some pretty spectacular dishes. The cherry pie a particular gem, created by a brother & sister who spent more of the day sourcing cherry liquor & pitted cherries in the most merticulous manner. 

Alongside the dish I took with me, I made some owl shaped biscuits to earn myself some extra brownie points. They were a sucess, despite a little initial confusion - apparently they are somewhat phallic shaped...? I'm far too innocent to have even considered that, of course...

Then there were many carol services - one particularly fab one at St Pauls in Onslow Square called 'The Alternative Carol Service' at which Giovanna Marshall, King Charles, Stokes William & the chap from the Hoosiers sung (all amazing singers. Check 'em out)

Last but not least - slightly un-festive themed, but themed nonetheless - LMFAO.

Enough said.

Jolly.Business.

2012-01-03T23:34:00.000Z

Oh my, where's Christmas gone? Such a jolly time seems to have passed in an instant.

It was indeed jolly, but I must admit that the lead up to all the jollity & relaxation of Christmas was certainly not quite so jolly or relaxed. Stressful, hectic...even manic? Presents, presents, presents! Dashing from one shop to the other, one market to the others, one hemisphere to the other (almost. I went to Durham one weekend in the lead up to the 25th) trying to find the perfect presents. Not a simple matter.

I bang on & on about my love of markets - the excitement of discovering the most random bits & bobs makes me inexplicably happy, so I'm afraid the banging on is not going to subside. I particularly love Durham indoor market with it's old fashioned sweet shops, cigar seller & knitting outlets. Aging lady folk peer over their reading glasses in wonder as Durham students request the most bizarre items to complete their TOWIE outfit or slutty halloween witch attire. 'Fake eye-lashes, tan & blow up boobs? A bloody suspender belt? Let me see what I can do for you pet...' On my recent jaunt around the place I picked up 'Mrs H's Homemade Orange Marmalade', 'Flower Comb Honey' from the Scottish boarders, 100g of lavender & a robin cross-stitching set. All essential items, of course.

There's something about markets which attracts me to the most bizarre items. These gloves for example - at the time I honestly thought they were wonderful. In retrospect, perhaps I was slightly mistaken...'market tinted spectacles' I call it.

Oh ma gaawd, I don't have a rabbit but I NEED these! (market tinted spectacles rearing their head once again...)

As I've mentioned before, I find carboots sales equally - if not more - exciting & enthralling than markets. Deciding to capitalise myself on the festive cheer, I booked a pitch at Capital Carboot Sale in Pimlico. The day before I frantically gathered all my most usual & unused possessions (a walkman? Someone will definitely be in the mood to go retro...A badmington set? Everyone likes a game on Boxing day! & so on...) gearing myself up & getting jolly excitied, until I received a text from my carboot sale chum (the one I roped into it on discovering she drives..) to tell me that she had fallen ill. What! I cried, surely, even on deaths door, you wouldn't cancel a carboot sale? Alas, she did. So, left in a bit of a pickle (aka car-less) I resided to my fate I went to bed.
The next morning, however, I was determined to get there SO ran into my dads room (you're awake, right? No.) & dragged him into the car with as many boxes of stuff as we could manage & sped off to Pimlico. Simple right? Wrong, sadly, since he had other plans so couldn't stay with me. Turfing me out of the car he plopped me at my pitch & there I was left, shivvering like a mentalist, surrounded by my broken barbies, half used perfume bottles & tinsle. It was a sorry sight.

A sorry sight, but dispite the bitter chill & lack of car & companionship I bloody loved it. AND I'm 57.35p richer. Ideal.

Back in London I was over-whelmed with markets - they were quite frankly springing up everywhere to capitalise on all the festive cheer. Far too ideal. Borough market is a particular favourite, more for looking than buying as it's pretty expensive. Despite this I did buy my parents a mustard cress growing set which (i think) they love. Well, who wouldn't?

Buy.From.Bella.la.la.

2011-12-26T12:16:00.003Z

Oh SEW cute were all my new handmade owl friends, I felt obliged to spread their button-eyed love far & wide. As well as giving the little fellas to some of my chums as Christmasy presents, I decided to have a go at whacking on a price tag & selling them at a Christmas market. I booked a stall at St James' Christmas market & spent the few weeks leading up to it going mentalist with all kinds of crafty matters.

St James' was one of the four schools from my youth - spending 5 years there in a picnic blanket style skirt & shapeless blouse. Hair tied up, skirt 2 inches bellow the knee, no make-up, no jewelry, no straps on show...no boyfriend. (Final rule wasn't exactly a 'rule' but more of a fact given the other rules. My appearance in these five years left much to be desired). It was a rather unusual school, to say the least - we meditated, learnt Sanskrit, had philosophy & cross-stitching lessons, ate vegetarian food & chanted at the beginning & end of every lesson throughout the school day. Oh, & we weren't allowed to look at boys, let alone speak to them. We sung the Nelson Mass in morning assembly & went to classes called 'The Art of Hospitality' where we learnt to cook & fold napkins. Sound a bit like - 'finishing school' for girls with a bit of an alternative edge - to you? It certainly felt something like that. Despite it's quirks I absolutely loved it. In fact, I think the quirks were what made me love it more. At meals times we were told off for serving ourselves, we were only allowed to take food if it had been offered to us. In the classroom we had to stand whenever a teacher came in & greet her, we weren't allowed to stay inside during break times & had to take skipping ropes to the playground where hop scotch was another acceptable activity. There wasn't much bitchiness or bullying..the ethos of the school wouldn't allow it.

So, this was the location chose for my first Christmas market stall. I felt sure that the good vibes of the crazy place would work in my favour. I set up my stall & had a wonderful afternoon selling my bits & bobs & conversing with teachers from my past - standing up to greet them of course.

On my stall I was also selling t-shirts. These were hand printed by my friend Austin who goes to Brighton art school. I cruised to Brighton a while ago to visit him & returned with a massive suitcase filled with t-shirts. They are really fab - printing with all sorts of designs - swirly cupcakes, a cool vespa, sad clown, dangerous sandwich, 'Make Tea Not War', & many more designs.

Fimo! Fimo! Fimo is just so fab - it's a bit like play dough which can be molded into all sorts of fun shapes. I made fun little earrings which I then popped into the oven to harden them. I made loads & on various occasions forgot to take them out of the oven so was left with burnt little brown owls with melted eyes. Most sad.

In the 4 hours I was at the market I had the chance to wander around to check out my competitors at neighbouring stalls. Many wonderful things...

 The funniest thing was when I realised my immediate stall neighbour - competitor no.1 - was Haya from Lord Sugar's 'Young Apprentice'! A girl hand-picked from thousands of applicants as one of the most entrepreneurial bright young sparks of Britain was selling almond hair oil on the stall next to me while I sold...owls. Great.

Oh.SEW.Cute.

2011-12-22T13:39:00.001Z

Bits & bobs! Needles, thread, string, pins, buttons, scissors, material, beads...oh glorious bits & bobs.

I've always loved making things - from lumpy bits of pottery at primary school 'mum look! I made you 'The Owl & The Pussycat' boat!' shoving something resembling a rock in her direction, to a knitted scarf in my first year at Durham - my excuse for not going clubbing. Who needs vodka shots when you've got knitting needles & wool? I went to dress-making classes back in the day where I learnt pattern cutting & that kind of business. I really enjoyed it but I think dress making is not really for me - too arduous & I was never accurate enough so inevitably things went wrong, ending up in one messy heap. I did learn how to make corsages which are fun & to this day I always have one pinned on my jacket, adding a colourful injection to any outfit. When I traveled to art school with my extremely creative chum Olivia, we'd both sit on the tube doing some form of making - she'd knit while I'd sew random bits of material together. I really think sewing on public transport is just ideal, the best way to pass long journeys with the added bonus of freaking fellow commuters out. Seriously, if you want to ward off sweaty tube travelers, start sewing - it really makes them keep a safe distance. I'm not sure if this is a fear of being stabbed with a needle or strangled with some wool or whether they just thought our activity was so strange that we must be from another planet.

I am jolly keen on FELT & recently a need to acquire it became quite an obsession. I searched high & low in crafty shops but they only seemed to sell small squares which was not ideal as I was after industrial quantities of the stuff. Eventually, after quite a felt finding palava, I went to Shepherds Bush...oh Shepherds Bush, thank you. Goldhawk Rd is brilliant - shop after shop selling fabric, each kitted out with their own sleezy man trying to encourage a purchase of something shiny, animal themed or just plain ugly. I bought various brightly coloured pieces of material before cruising down Shepherds Bush Market where I struck gold (if you call felt gold. I certainly do). Metres & metres of the stuff! Every colour! Peeeerfect!

With all my wonderful newly aquired felt I set about sewing like a mentalist. Owls, owls, owls, what else?! Owls to pin onto things, owls to hang, owls to chill.

Boxes & boxes of material fill my room - ideal of making these fun little corsages. La.La.La.

La.La.La.

I.Am.Keen.On.Owls.

2011-12-14T09:37:00.001Z

If you are my chum & this keen-owl-related fact had passed you by - you are either extremely unobservant (most of my jewelry, clothes, hats, scarves, bags, etc. are owl-related) or extremely deaf (most of my conversation is owl-related). People often ask me why I am quite so keen on the fluffy fellas & to be honest I'm not entirely sure, except that they are cute, wise & have very big eyes. I think that's enough fuel for an obsession..

During my foundation year at art school we had inductions to all sorts of arty processes & techniques - from screen printing to dress-making, photography to casting - & for each induction we had to do a little project. Following on from my clothing & conversation, these too were almost always owl-related in some manner. The project where we had to create a large construction out of wood, loo paper, string, etc. turned into a tree with a few owls perched here & there. The etching project which required us to design a template to print was again an owl. The screen-printing project - owl printed t-shirts. The glass cutting project - a owl encrusted mirror. And so on.

Durham university was the next phase in my life to discover Bella's owl-tastic tastes. Here it was expanded from clothing, conversation, arty bits & bobs - to therapy. I shall explain.
I had an absolutely tiny room in college in first year - it was practically non-existent. I was not too thrilled about this, particularly as the other rooms along my corridor were vast with large gothic window letting in lots of lovely light, while I was stuck in a dark box. Not ideal. It came to a point when I decided enough was enough & went to our college tutor to discuss my non-existent (yet unfortunately existent) room & she gave me a list of some empty rooms that I could potentially move into. I was thrilled & decided to test run the rooms, sneakily acquiring about five keys to various empty bedrooms around college. I finally settled on one with a big window, slanting ceiling & general good vibes. However, by this stage the term was almost at an end so I decided, against anyone's knowledge, to live in both rooms. SUCH a perfect situation.
How is this story owl-related, you ask? Well, I kept the box room for my clothes, work & general clutter, moving only my bedding, ablution equipment & a box with small squares of paper, a black pen & coloured ink - for my owl creating (all materials mentioned minus the bedding & ablution equipment) to the new room. Since no one new about my second room, I would have to sneak there in the dead of night, fleeing my essays to sit in my big windowed room & draw owls. My complete & utter de-stressing therapy.

A few weeks ago I heard about a competition to design the cover for the 100th issue of 'Stylist' magazine. Owls owls - was of course my intial thought. It was required to have a celebratory theme & have '100' written somewhere on it. The two 0's to me screemed OWL EYES &  I wanted to keep it simple & colourful. 

I sent my design with the application form & in the section 'Please write a few words on what inspired your cover' I wrote: 

What a hoot! I love colour, I love owls, I love celebrations! Bright, colourful & fun. I draw owls a lot - I find it very soothing. If I'm stressed I draw & colour owls. Thank you oh wise & wonderful owls. I hope others will also be inspired by my calming, colourful owl & his little mouse chum (with cheese).

Ok so I didn't win the competition...but am still waiting for the men in white jackets to come & take me away! 

(This scan of the cover hasn't come out that well - in reality it's much more colourful! Pink backgroud etc.)

A little mono print my friend Olivia did of me at art school.

Bella Owl.

La La La.

Idle? Ideal.

2011-12-07T23:01:00.001Z

There's a magazine dedicated to the ethos of being idle called 'The Idler' which campaigns against the work ethic & promotes liberty, autonomy & responsibility...sound ideal? Anyone else singing 'The Importance of Being Idle' by Oasis right now? I certainly am.
I found out about this idle business when I came across an events programme for 'The Idler Academy' which has recently opened on Westborne Park Rd. Such fun quirky things going on there - evening talks, sewing mornings, ukulele lessons...I actually decided a while ago that I wanted to learn the ukulele. I've never been musical - tried leaning the piano at prep school but my teacher was strange & he sniffed a lot so I gave up. It was very shorted lived - probably just as long as he had a cold. I say this in retrospect, now that I've realised that the sniff may not have been a permanent characteristic of this chap, but I didn't stick around long enough to know. My recent decision to learn the ukulele was based on my idea that it would be realitively easy as it's small. 'Half the size of a guitar = half the difficulty of a guitar' was my rationing. Unfortantely, after a lesson with a musical friend of mine I realised this was certainly not the case. He spent a good half hour teaching me to strum which was quite frankly beyond me. Once again, my attempt at a musical career was somewhat short lived.

So ukulele lessons at the Idler Academy? Maybe not. But a talk about hedgehogs? Yes please. Apparently there was also a talk about Sloths a while ago which I sadly missed. A whole hours talk dedicated to sloths...how wonderful does that sound? It would also have been rather interesting because I honestly cannot think of anything else they do other than be lazy. Maybe the talk was tips on how to be a lazy sloth? Because we all need more help with that, right?!

No sloths, no hedgehogs, but books! I went to an evening talk & class called 'How to Make a Book' which was just fab. It was run by a man called John-Paul Flintoff, a proper English eccentric who just bloody loves books. I don't think I've ever met someone who has such a passion for them...Of course I know real bookworms - those wonderfully bookish, library loving, nerdy types, but this chap's love of books is different. He simply loves making them - from what I gather - out of anything & everything. The talk began with him waxing lyrical about all the ways books can be created & the types that can be created..books with hidden pages, books that fold into different shapes, never ending books, small books, large books...papers, colours, shapes, sizes, books, books, books. The evening then turned practical - glue, scissors, paper, material, thread, needles, all flying around as we learnt to create signatures & bind them together. It was such a jolly event & the other people were equally as jolly & indeed rather eccentric. One woman in particular had to shield her eyes when the buttons were brought out. She has a phobia of buttons. I found this a bit odd, but then remember that I've got a phobia of toothbrushes & I guess an irrational fear of buttons & toothbrushes are roughly on the same par...

My owl-y creation!

Here's another example of a bit of my collaging..lots of owls, of course. My favourite is the picture of Adam & Eve with the quote 'Honesty, there IS no one else'. Amazing.