The Next Step #2

My first ever post on this blog was titled 'The Next Step' and was published on the 7th October 2014. It was a very, very long tale of my personal struggles in choosing a University course. Today is the 13th August 2015 and this morning I found out that I have been accepted into my top choice University; Kent, to study Drama. And boy oh boy, I've got all the feels.

I spent so many hours and so much energy on making this decision, worrying about this decision, and then working my sanity into the ground to earn this decision, that to now know that it's truly over and earnt is so surreal. Surreal enough to write a blog post about at 11:59pm haha.

I actually didn't get into University on the grades of my offer...I was supposed to get ABB but achieved ACC (cry cry) so shout out to Kent for that lovely little favour, I really appreciate it. No thank yous to Edexcel, you big ol' pile of nope. I was pretty upset when I read that I'd got 2 Cs in subjects I believed I was stronger in - even though I already knew when opening my results that Kent had accepted me, I was really struggling to accept me (criiiinge, sorry). In that moment, I was a failure, no matter what UCAS or Kent had told me. But I think that was okay; it's okay to be disappointed as long as you forgive yourself in time and don't loose sight of the bigger picture. It's taken all day, but I'm alright now, I'm satisfied, and over the moon that in September I am packing my bags to move to the beautiful city of Canterbury to study my favourite subject (that I got a C in grr, okay still a little bitter ha). I wish I had done better, but I know that the letters in the envelope I opened at 10:30am this morning do not define me; my experience at Kent will define me.

If I was to get really deep here and search for a meaning or a lesson to be learnt from my results, I would say that it's an encouragement for me to really, totally pull my weight and work harder than I ever have worked at University. I've been granted a place at the institution of my choice, but golly it was by the skin of my teeth. Perhaps if I'd got in with the grades I was supposed to, or higher, I wouldn't be motivated to work as hard. But in the present I've got quite a lot to prove, to myself mainly. I can Drama!

Well, there's a lifey update for you internet, see you at The Next Step #3, whatever that will be...

As you wave me goodbye

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it. Exams are a thing that have happened, and freedom is a thing that is looming now. I, like many people my age, am in a funny sort of transitional period. I'm in a state of absolute in-between. I've supposedly finished school but I'm not sure where I'm going next (at least not until results day). I'm rehearsing for a play with a melancholy shroud over my head reminding me that this is the last production I will be a part of in this company. And finally, I am STILL waiting to turn eighteen. In short, everything is weird.

But it's exciting too, I think. I have lots of little plans in the case of my rejection from University - I'll audition for lots of local plays, dive wholeheartedly into script writing (I really should give that more time) and maybe I'll enrol on an art foundation course to pass the time, because why ever not? Maybe I'll reapply for University, but for now I'm happy not knowing - I've grown accustomed to the big old question mark imprinted on the file in my brain labelled 'my future'.

It's sad leaving things behind - school, jobs, clubs, people, but I suppose if you truly belong somewhere, then you can only ever leave in body, never in spirit. My name will remain under my paintings on the school walls, and the props corridor back stage at the theatre will always remain the place that my friend taught me how to play black jack during a performance, making us late on stage. And I know with absolute certainty that I am welcome to return to any of the places I am supposedly leaving behind at any time, and that's comforting.

This post doesn't really have a point to make, or a neat conclusion, it's just a little update about where I am (or am not!) and how I feel. So because I can't round this off in usual fashion, below I have put a couple of sentimental collages of my time at  The Company of Teens at at school. I have a lot of time on my hands, okay? 

Someone stop me, I think I've broken the cringe barrier.

Oh, and the title? I've been listening to a lot of Gracie Fields recently.

Whiplash: My emotionally unstable and nonsensical response

So I just watched Whiplash and am straight to my keyboard. I am hammering away at the keys through an overwhelming shortage of breath and a heartbeat that must be breaking some sort of record for its irregularity. I've broken out into a hot sweat and all I can hear is the pounding of drums from Caravan.  

Whiplash was by a mile the best film I have ever seen but it has thrown me; my mental state and moral compass included, completely into turmoil.

If you're reading this having not seen the film in question, please just stop reading. This post will not be worth your time which should really be spent on watching Whiplash.

If you have watched Whiplash, then here a few in-comprehensive thoughts that have plagued my mind since the film ended that maybe you share/disagree with/haven't considered. I'd love to continue this discussion beyond the post, so do leave a comment below or contact me with any of your thoughts!

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Both Terrence and Andrew got what they wanted, and this bothers me somewhat, because naturally I feel like Terrence fitted the villain role and does not deserve success. But then one of the most resounding messages throughout the film was what does success actually mean and who is deserving of it? - Surely it is the person who is willing to walk through hell and sacrifice everything that will, and should, succeed, but does emotional scarring not blacken the name of success and turn it into something else entirely? And so what if someone isn't prepared to push everything aside in the name of ambition? Does that make them unworthy of achievement?

'Four words you will never hear from the NFL.'
- Remember when the nature of success is discussed at the dinner table of Andrew's extended family? That scene played host to one of the best pieces of script writing I've ever scene in my life. It portrayed competitive family life almost infuriatingly accurately, and allowed the real life underdog to watch a marvelous display of quick-witted sass that they have at so many moments wished they had the confidence to display themselves. 

THAT EYE CONTACT AT THE END gave me palpitations.
No - that whole freaking final scene gave me palpitations.

I was quite literally on the edge of my seat from both the almost unbearable tension and the sheer gut-wrenching support I had for Andrew as he created a moment that I think every human being on the planet has at some point in their life wished they could create. When he mouths those two words to Fletcher and switches his badass gear to maximum I couldn't help but squeal because I so badly wanted to punch the air because wow what a golden sequence. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

Terrence is a metaphorical inch away from breaking Andrew, in a manner so psychotic I simply cannot empathise with it, but the film ends with them as equals. The power struggle is resolved, their eyes meet, and they both win. Through Andrew's impromptu slaying of Caravan, he finally earns the respect of Fletcher, and most probably the audience, and Fletcher has finally created his star. Reiterating some earlier points, part of me feels Fletcher does not deserve his success or to be equal with Andrew. My morals dictate to me that no one has any right to inflict psychological distress, like Fletcher does to his students, upon anyone, and no one should ever be made or feel obliged to endure such a thing...but it happens, and it creates undeniable results. So depending on where your priorities lie, I guess Fletcher's methods are justifiable and to be expected. Hmm. I also recognise that Fletcher is an incredibly ambiguous character, with more layers to his personality than an onion to its skin. He did care about Andrew and he did see his potential, he just had a very particular method of extracting talent which, unfortunately, worked.

I also can't help feeling that the suddenness of the ending (I did see it coming, but it still gave me chills) suggested that Andrew's goal throughout the story became less and less about becoming a successful drummer in his own right, but merely earning Fletcher's respect. This point is pretty empty, but I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT EYE CONTACT and Andrew's smile as he looks up at Fletcher like 'I did it.' and Fletcher's wrinkles rising as he cracks a smile like 'I did it.' 

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Sorry this isn't very polished, it is purely my stream of consciousness fresh out of the cinema. I needed to rant. Thank you for your time.