Passionate reveries…

During childhood there were numerous asthma attacks, bullies, my mother’s death, my step mom’s somewhat peculiar sentiments toward myself and my sister and a constant shyness and fear of people thanks to my crushed self-confidence, but there was also the love of my father, sister and grandparents, as well as other relatives and friends, and there was the sailing boat and France. Later there was my best friend, dancing, cameras and notepads. These were my rocks, my pillars of strength. Of course there were also stories, as nine times out of ten I had my head stuck in a book, but they were a bit less animated (although plenty alive in my imagination). I believe you see the result of all those stories in this blog on a weekly basis – without them it’s unlikely I would have turned to writing in the first place.  The fact that I actually work as a writer today still strikes me as fantastical, but it is probably what people would have deemed most likely, as although I dabbled in all fine and performing arts, writing and photography are the ones that seem to possess me and which come together in directing. Stories and creative ideas tend to haunt me, which sometimes make me swear and stomp around in agitation, but I must confess that I have no idea of what life would be like without these passionate ghosts of mine. Empty is the word that springs to mind. As possessed as I may be by my own ideas and as much as I have spent lord knows how many hours in confused fury not understanding how to execute them all, I really, honestly believe my life would be nothing without them and hereby profusely excuse myself for all the times I have sworn over them (if that sentence doesn’t quite add up, don’t worry. I’m inventing my language).

One of my more recent ideas, as of this evening in fact, is the idea that I should write a blog about some of my pillars of support growing up, some of the greatest loves of my life. I had this idea researching an article about France, as I was faced with one of these pillars, namely France itself. My colleague at work last year used to laugh at me as I always switched to a French radio station during hours of stress as I claimed it calmed me down and it probably did. I can feel my blood pressure sink as soon as I hear the familiar and homely sound of French voices and French tunes, especially the older ones. The only thing that potentially raises my blood pressure is French grammar as I find it ridiculously difficult, but it still fails to tarnish a country that was always my second home, my place to return to. Just writing this I’ve already started taking deep breaths and relaxing.

I did not intend to write about France just yet though, as I still have paid articles to finish on the subject. What I intended to do was to talk about the fact that I intend to write about it. About France, my grandparents and sailing. Three very solid pillars in my childhood. Three things that no other influence managed to tarnish. Maybe it’s because my dad has just sold off my grandparents house and apartment in Sweden and although I live in Cape Town I still feel a pang of….of reluctance as I feel like one of my homes have disappeared. Two, if we shall be exact. A big part of my life has been erased. Their time share in Menton was sold already the other year, but luckily I did not invest my love of France into that one flat. My grandparents are, as you can now probably tell, the reason why I ended up loving France in the first place, although my dad has influenced me in that area also, as he picked up on their love (and a few French cheeses whilst at it).

I really missed my grandma the other day. Not her ability to correct my French verbs, although that was useful, but just…her. As I now looked up my eyes ended up on her old sewing kit, which I brought with me to Cape Town. God knows the old metal box has seen better days, but the sense of familiarity of having it around is akin to the feeling of France, the feeling of home. This week she crossed my mind as I was playing with one of my mentorship kiddos, little Mr T, one of the twins. He was in a weird mood and spent all day at crèche as close to me as he could get and at that time he was climbing on the swing/climbing structure and looking at him, the memory of my gran flashed through my mind and I desperately wanted her to see him, to experience the kids that are now such a big part of my life. I know she would have understood and been proud of me. She was always the one that got me, or maybe she made me me. It’s hard to tell which way the story goes. I’m now fighting tears which is the problem about writing about my grandma, because as much as I honor everything she gave me, I still miss her enough to cry a river. Not unlike my best friend, she’s in pretty much everything I do – as in she would have understood my sentiments exactly, but that doesn’t mean I always contemplate it. All the same I believe I need to start remembering her more often and come to terms with it. Not least because it makes me remember why I am loved. It makes me remember my good qualities and that in turn makes me forget to try to impress by being someone I’m not. Something well worth bearing in mind when new in town. You go through endless meetings until you have your support network formed and sometimes I find myself babbling hysterically to someone who couldn’t give two cents.

So ladies and gents, I will present to you a series of blogs about what made me, me. The lovely things that made me, me. I haven’t yet decided all they will entail, but France, my grandparents and sailing are currently topping the list. I have a feeling my best friend, my soul mate (of one degree or another, there are so many confusing soul mate theories out there), will make an appearance. Dance, the theater and filmmaking might also sweep by, with performances from jesters and fools. Cooking, Morocco and naughty magic as well as children in need and Africa (or untamed adventures if you so like) will potentially play various parts too. Let’s call it the passion project.

Parisian, oh so Parisian…

My love, the shadow that touches the flame…

Sometimes I hear you speak to me. Words echoing somewhere, just out of reach. Glimpses of light, fractured memories spin by like a carousel. I get that awkward feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if love sick. That longing, that sense of elevation…like flying and at the same time a melancholic sadness, like the unfulfilled lover. Waiting. Hoping. Praying that one day our roads will meet again.

I remember you as someone who used to fill me with fire. All my artistic dreams came to light. I would wander the streets, pen and poetry book in hand. Page after page would be filled with caffeine covered notes of beauty, mingled with my own inner pain. Everything was a little bit shattered. It was that pain I could never shake, the pain that made me fear my own pursuit. I had the fire. I had the desire. I just lacked the clarity, the knowledge, but I tried. I really went for it. That’s when I realized that beneath the fire was that pain, that insecurity and everything I did was tainted by it. The fire kind of got subdued. I censored myself. Artistic expression became about perfection, about following rules and guidelines. Sure enough some of those guidelines gave me so much – I created things I came to love, things I was truly proud of. I gained the knowledge. Yet I had let go of that sense of complete abandon. Of fully giving of myself. Like when I used to wander those streets.

Sometimes a street light, or the sight of a perfectly yellow lemon will take me right back. I’m once more where I belong, walking those streets, poetry book in hand. Everything I see is filled with beauty – I search for beauty in everything; in smells, tastes, sounds…and life is blissful. I’m immersed in the art of life and my creative juices are overflowing. Everything I see adds another piece to the puzzle. Everything I hear brings me one step closer to completing a script, a poem, an artwork… Around me answers are swirling in the air like leaves in autumn. Everything is there to help me create my art, like a giant jigsaw puzzle I’m gathering one piece after another. One step closer to fulfilling the dream of completing another project.

I’m allowing myself to create again. Stains of red wine next to my laptop. Delirious words flying by. This blog is no longer just about sexy confessions, sexy life lessons with a twinkle in their eye…ever so often I take a break from those and I play. Words enchant me and I let them. The garlic bread and the wine…I’m suddenly eleven years younger and I’m walking the streets of Paris with a dream in my hand.

I still dream. The dancers at the Moulin Rouge are still as colorful as they were when I left Sweden all those years ago. When I dreamt of a bohemian revolution, of beauty, truth, freedom and love…when I took my backpack and left and ended up in Paris. The sunrise by the Seine, the artist studios in Montmartre…every part of the city touched me with her beauty, every part made me ache and wonder.

I can feel you again, your streets so filled with beauty. The streetlights that would fill the night with magic. How you inspired me! How every step I took felt like I was lost in an artwork, or in my own dream. And then as I kept pursuing my dreams everyone congratulated me on one school after another, one city after another. London, Los Angeles, Cape Town…but somewhere along I died. I started believing I’d never come to accomplish anything. That I would be stuck doing something other than what I trained in. The irony in following your dream to become an artist.

A light flickers in the night. A wind caresses my ear. I can hear you speak to me. Soft words. A soft welcome back. Back to the core. To who I always was. Without the pain. Without the destruction.

I remember sitting in our first flat…I was writing on my laptop. The laptop suddenly died, although the battery was full. The lights were flickering. My flatmate was talking about writing erotica as a means of survival as a writer and I laughed. I was so filled with youthful enthusiasm. I told her our flat would be put on the map. A tourist destination. We would become famous. I believed in my dreams, but fame was a false dream, my heart was the true dream. I loved the artistic life. The feeling of living the dream, but as youthful fools do they pursue before they are ready, they start feeling ashamed for having listened to the ego as much as the heart and then they lose the fire as challenges extinguish the flames…just like my laptop died. Just as the lights flickered. A ghost? A story foretold?

I’m sitting by my laptop writing at night. The can can girls still dance. The creperies are all still there. Paris’ streets look the same. With my eyes I seek out the angles for the camera. My heart dreams the same dreams. Nothing’s changed, but everything is different. And from the wilderness in Africa you can hear a different roar…

Mistakes and miracles…

I had a dream tonight. A really naughty dream. You know those dreams that are so vivid that even when you wake up you are insanely happy? Well, I dreamt I was making out with Jared Leto…I never dream of making out with celebrities, but let me tell you – this dude is hot. And he was amazing.

Sometimes dreams foretell things right? Not least because it shows our state of mind. So I’m thinking this means I will get to make out with gorgeous man, who is super cuddly, open, intimate and has a voice like an angel. preferably he also play the acoustic guitar, but that would just be a plus.

In all seriousness to me Jared Leto represents LA, a place I love, and doing what I love, because he’s in the movies/entertainment industry. And I am so much looking forward to going to Cape Town and work with C.A.R.E.S. and my venture  The Wandering Tales on movie and theatre projects that incorporate community work and drug rehabilitation.  It rings so true to me I start crying every time I speak about it (that is I feel I could cry…I rarely ever proceed to crying…apart from when I first got the job – I cried for an hour). You see, my whole life I wanted to work with people and I was set to become a doctor (and go on adventures, working with kids in places like…Africa) before I decided to go with the arts and become a director, but I never felt entirely fulfilled. When I mix the working with people aspect with the film and theatre aspect…I just…even writing this, I got moist eyes. I love it so, so much.

At the same time going to Cape Town scares the shit out of me (Swedish expression…don’t know if it translates), because let’s face it: I don’t know. I don’t know how anything out there will go. I don’t even have an online job yet so as to be able to support myself, but I will make it. I may go there and hate it though. I doubt it, but there is a chance. Or maybe I will love it for a while and then head home to LA, or France. Who knows? My intuition tells me to go and that I will live there, but who knows? Who knows anything?

We just have to follow our hearts and do what we would love and I would love to go to Cape Town. The adventure is this: what you think one day is a miracle, looking back may be seen as a mistake and what you think to be a mistake may one day be seen as a miracle.

Life is a lot about following your heart and enjoying the journey. About exploring and learning. Where it takes us…who knows? But I want to enjoy the ride as much as I can. I am quite a determined soul once I get my heart, or mistakenly: head, into something, but I don’t want to live my life getting stuck on things and getting angry with obstacles. If I in the end couldn’t go to Cape Town, then I would have to find another way of doing what I love. I doubt very much that I won’t go, because I am putting all my creative juices into going (I have worked so much on it this week I’ve hardly slept). What I am trying to say is just: life is a combo of mistakes and miracles, one leading to the other. The more we learn, the more we know what we love and the more grounded and in tune we are with mother nature, the easier it gets…but relax and enjoy the ride, because it will be a ride. You can get yourself worked up about all the problems along the way, or you can just deal with them with love in your heart. For example it’s taken me a lot longer to get everything ready for Cape Town than I thought and I can either get really worked up about it, or use my time wisely, relaxing and enjoying what I’m doing. I’ve made mistakes that I can turn into miracles.

Life is the adventure when you go for what you love. Life is the miracle. But that miracle is filled with mistakes, that will then turn into miracles…

Laters. I need a miraculous breakfast now. Oh and Jared Leto. Naked…

Some men are such a delicious mistake…some chocolate cakes too…

If you love me, join me in the sauna…

Ryanair once sent me an email with the headline Experience Swedish Hospitality. I thought they were being kinky. I’m not sure if it was their imagination, or mine. I’m uh suspecting it was me. After all I’m Swedish. I know massage. I know saunas. I know skinny dipping. I know the reputation we have. And I use and abuse it. All the time.

I’ve actually found out that the city I’m from, Malmo, is the world’s most dangerous city if you count crime rate per capita. Immigrants have started gang wars and are also robbing people right left and centre. When I was a kid there was a murder a year. Now there’s one a week. It’s so friggin sad. I may not want to live there permanently, but try saying anything bad about Sweden and I will go apeshit. Try murdering my fellow Swedes…I’m not happy.

It’s just so sad that people who haven’t found their passion in life, their purpose, spend their time losing themselves in things that truly don’t matter. Think about it. What matters to you, truly matters to you? How can you do more of that? How can you live your life in a passionate dance of freedom? How can you focus all your energy on the positive? Not just an outcome, outcomes are what they are – some shit comes together, some falls apart – play to win, but enter the game you want to be playing for the sake of playing. Enjoy the game. I know that throwing sticks and stones will give you energy kicks, adrenaline and testosterone flowing freely, but they are temporary and they aren’t true happiness. Nor are drugs, or sex, or fashion brands that give you an ego kick… True happiness is love, I’m fairly confident. Do what you love. Spend energy feeding what you love. And love. For the love of God, just love. Love who you are, whom you want to be, what you do. Do lovingly. Whatever is in your hands…treat it with care and love, even if it seems like the most mundane task, or difficult situation. Apply love, peace and understanding. Between the three you could save the world. Your world.

I get angry sometimes. I get furious. I get furious with myself, the people in my life, the stories I hear on the news (I avoid most)… I get frustrated. I get so frustrated I wanna scream because I haven’t yet figured something out, I miss someone, I miss the sunshine, I’m scared and I don’t wanna be scared, I see my mistakes, I see my flaws… But then I step away. I look at myself as whom I want to be. Who I am in the core of me. I see the beauty and the love. I see me. I see all I want to create, all I love and all the people I love, no matter if they drive me insane at times. I start living as the true me in that moment and suddenly I just feel love and happiness. This world is paradise. There is pain in paradise, but it is still paradise. I just need to move back to the beach…

What I’m trying to say folks is this: choose love. Step away from whatever is that isn’t love and make a conscious decision to choose love. Your world will shift and the world will shift with it.

Join me in the sauna. It gets hot in there when you turn on the love. Go on then – don’t be shy. Clothes off, love on.

A game of desire…

They say wisdom begins in wonder and I believe this to be quite true as when we marvel at something, we want to find out more. I think many things also begin with desire and passion, which makes it quite an incredible, wonderful and delicious world! Because what’s more lovely than being pulled by your true desires, your heart’s longing, whilst marveling at wonders?

Passion, as a friend of mine pointed out, also means to suffer. That’s what the word stems from. And if you have ever felt passion, ever longed for something, someone, or to do something with all your heart, I’m sure you know what I mean. You are driven by a pull so strong nothing stands in your way (meaning you will move mountains if you have to), but that often means you work harder, you are taken on journeys you could never dream of…you leave comfort behind, you have to run before you can walk, you fall a hundred times and get up a hundred and one…you simply travel far to reach your desired destinations and the journeys are sometimes coated in pain. If nothing else the pain you feel at not being at the destination already. Your desires constantly aching in your heart, pulling you along.

Desire can also prove to come from places you knew not. It was not your heart, but something else which created the desire. If so, it will lead you astray. Your destination will be a temporary fix, not the pleasurable place of love you imagined. Much like a drug it will numb something else. Some other part of you which is aching. We all know highs lead to lows. If you are seeking highs, you walk on clouds which will not hold you.

Desire and passion are marvelous things when they come from the heart. When the purpose behind our actions stem from love and when we don’t allow the passion to become an ache pulling us towards our destination, but rather a loving interaction with the moment…allowing ourselves to live our passion rather than hunt it. If nothing else, because what we hunt often escapes us. Walk towards something and be open for it to meet you, to enter your heart….which is where it came from to start off with. It’s as if we are chasing parts of ourselves, not just soul mates, but soul pursuits, soul destinations.

To live your heart’s true desires, to allow them to be manifested through your actions, is to open your heart and live the love. That’s the path. The only path I’ve discovered that lessens the pain and fills you with a sense of purpose, happiness, passion and ever increasing desire, without that nudge of pain. You are no longer running towards your dreams, trying to escape your past, your present, or your own core of suffering, your own wounds. You are living your desire in the moment. You have a purpose, but it’s in the now, even if that now is creating a path to the future.

Wonder is being amazed by the moment, pursuing something beyond the moment, but still in the moment. I mean sex isn’t just about the orgasm, right? Play the game of desire wisely: marvel at every step…and may each step be driven by wonder!

 Make your moves wisely…let them be led by love…

Is there time for sex???…

It’s 8:30pm, Friday night and I’m really too tired to say anything clever, funny, or intelligent…or am I? I’m still in the office, just now having finished today’s workload…and I’m getting up at 5am tomorrow to deal with an acute crisis. I’m rather amused – it feels like a right wake-up call after slumbering in LA. The best part is I am also working on my company and I have an office to do so in. Thank you God.

I know that the next couple of months, probably more like years, will be intense. Setting up your own company (two in fact) is not what you call an easy mission, but why I feel awake now is because my life has purpose – I really want to do this. And having this job in the meantime is teaching me a lot and I’m enjoying the challenge. After working for a person that was very disrespectful in LA it’s nice to work for and with people who appreciate what I do and give me free reign to come up with ideas and restructuring things (that’s part of the job description). That’s another reason why I feel wide awake even though I’m so tired I’m potentially close to delirium right now. I will be even more tired tomorrow morning at 5am…so…let’s get to the point (apart from living on purpose): when you get this busy, you have to know when to stop. I have worked so hard during parts of my life, I barely saw the sun and it ruined me.

Living on purpose is extremely important – living your passion is a blessing. Just remember that we are more than just work (or for some it’s about being more than just your love life, or your social life, or your food…). In the past I have used work as an excuse not to deal with my social, or love life, because to me, they are harder to deal with. I feel very secure just working my ass off. It didn’t make me happy though, because I needed a functioning love and social life, just as much as I need nature, sunshine, relaxation, good food, sleep, exercise and, yes, sex…

Have fun, live life and, yawn, sleep well…

A passionate dance…

I just watched a number by the dancer I fell for when I was fourteen. I remember those first steps of passion. Of a calling. Of finding something I truly cared about. I remember dancing.

Having secured a job you think that the first thing I’d do is to go celebrate and have some drinks. The first thing I’ll do is use the now free spare time to actually work on my own business, instead of job hunting. The second thing I’ll do is to pay for dance classes.

Life is very simple in a sense. You have passions. You figure out a way to live them out. I’m not a professional dancer. I get dizzy from pirouettes (go figure), but I do love to dance. And so if I can only do amateur movies and amateur plays with dance in them…I can do it. Maybe they are not that amateur like – I studied for five years to become a professional Actor/Director and one year to become a Film/TV Producer. I didn’t start dancing to become a professional though. I started dancing because I fell in love with a dancer…but I ended up falling in love with dancing and that led me to acting and finally directing and producing. That dancer really did change my life…one day I should thank him.

I don’t do business, act, direct, dance, or produce because I have to. Nor do I paint, cook, write, or do photography because I have to. Or because it pays my bills. I do it because I love it. Because it fulfills me. I need to remember this as I dance through life. I need to remember that I am dancing. I’m not just doing things, I’m dancing with them. I am twirling through life graciously. I am the dance. I am that love.

In the same way I need to remember that no guy or company will ever be more than my music. It will be the music I dance to. The music which inspires me. It won’t pay me, or give me an award. It’s just something I can dance to. Something I can make love to in my own special way.

Be the love you want to see in this world…and do make love to the music…

Me dancing…

The truth about sex…

...or maybe love 'n' rock 'n' roll???

I mean after all this blogging about sex I just have to give you the truth…wrapped up in a sexy, funny cover as always. I believe that’s my trademark. So here it comes peeps…ready?

I have met a lot of former addicts. Don’t ask me why. They tend to flock to me. Maybe because I hardly drink, I never smoked and I never did drugs. I’ve never had a hangover in my life. I’m a health freak and somehow I still manage to have a blast on the dance floor and I never have trouble with people’s opinion about my life choices. I have met so many people who have told me they can’t live like me because, what would their mates at the pub say? You know what? They don’t give a damn about your lifestyle, so long as you DON’T feel inferior about it, or judge others for their choices, and you prove you can still have fun with them. And they will invariably believe that your cranberry juice is a cranberry and vodka…

I used to be very addicted to success and artistry though. To hard work and to beauty and all other magical things in life. Like Michael Jackson I used to run around talking about “the magic, the beauty…” Yet, I was always sad. I felt broken on the inside, so I tried to fill the outside with beauty, with good times, what have you. To lose myself from the not so cool parts of my life at the time. So I can relate quite a lot. You can be addicted to other things than drugs, that’s for sure. (On the plus side I found out many things in life I love and am truly passionate about.)

I also used to get quite floored by successful people, until one day a man sat in my lap telling me that if he ever “only” made 100-150k a year he might as well kill himself. I began to see the other side of success. Brilliant minds will continue to fascinate me. People who think out of the box, people who have a vast knowledge about things, or people who understand something really well are incredibly stimulating to be around and can teach you a lot. A lot. However, if it comes together with a longing for success, so as to cover up some broken part of their heart…then the success will never make them happy. It will keep their ego afloat, but it won’t make them happy. And if they lose the success… (As I wrote that I almost kicked down my Buddha figure by mistake…ahem…)

Happiness is a lot more attractive than an outer shell. Yes, people who can make enough money to look after themselves are nice. They can survive. It brings you peace of mind. People who are aiming for success for the sake of success though…they are usually not happy. They don’t love themselves as they are, unconditionally. They think that only if they achieve this or that, whether that be being an athlete, or becoming a millionaire, or getting married…whatever, then they will love themselves.

When you feel lonely, or unloved, or inferior, or like you are untalented, or simply not accepted for one reason or another, as human beings we tend to want to fill that void…that not so happy feeling, or emptiness with something else. That’s why people who fall in love when they aren’t whole in themselves end up “needing” their partner in a way that’s more than satisfying the part of you that longs for a happy relationship, sharing life, love and sex. Instead it’s…a drug. Just like chocolate, instead of being a pleasure, becomes a drug. And so does sex, alcohol, work, exercise…what have you. It is something that takes us away from what we feel is a thorn in our heart. Or it’s things that make us relax so we forget about the thorn and fit in without feeling uncomfortable.

“If there is no passion in your life, then have you really lived? Find your passion, whatever it may be. Become it, and let it become you and you will find great things happen for you, to you and because of you.”~ T. Alan Armstrong

Maybe because I used to have a broken ego, I used to feel uncomfortable around people, I used to feel unloved, I used to think love was conditional and I used to lose myself in other things…maybe that’s why I meet all these people. To see myself and love myself, because believe me – even if I can see someone having more issues than the PR offices of Tiger Woods…I can still love them. Because I do see their beauty. They do make me smile. They are incredible people. They are just…a tad blind to their own wonder.

“Touching someone’s heart for a mere second; can touch their soul for a lifetime.”~Jody Patterson

For all the personal development I have studied and success theories I have heard…I believe happiness is love (inside) and I believe success (outside) is creating a life you love…but it starts with love on the inside. With being happy just being, because circumstances will keep changing; that’s life.  …and I believe good sex is due to outside factors…common ideas about what you want in bed, a partner who touches you in a way you enjoy (there’s a difference between the “soft lover” and “the big bear hugs person”), a person whose body turns you on…and good lovemaking is about the inside factors (complimentary purposes and values in life, a true love of one another, a wish to truly be together; mind, body and spirit, speaking each other’s love languages so you feel the love in a way you understand, a wish to blend together as one).

For all the gorgeous people in my life: I love you sooooooooooo much!!!!!!! And to all the people on here: thank you so much for your comments, support and smileys

The one time I did a Southern accent in front of Kevin Spacey…

Image via Wikipedia

I have one role I loved above and beyond any other role I ever played. It was a part that I could recognize myself in, a part that scared me for the same reason and a part that was so fun to act, because it truly was a masterpiece of a play and a character that you could take quite far…I mean you could play with it, as she wasn’t very sane. It was Blanche Du Bois in A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams.

When the Old Vic Theatre in London offered students to come and do workshops there, our school, The Academy Of The Science Of Acting And Directing, went along. I believe it was only the third and fourth years that got to go this one time and what we had to do….well, we had to audition in front of Kevin Spacey.

I wasn’t thinking very strategically about the audition – I simply picked the part I loved the most. I mean, she was, at the time, a character at least six years older than me, if not ten. She also spoke with an accent I was not familiar with. The love of the character basically blurred my vision for whether or not it was a good auditioning piece.

In the week leading up to the audition my boyfriend told that when he came home one night and woke me up, I spoke to him in a Southern accent and I was saying something Blanche would have said (the only thing I remembered the next day was the thought “Do not get angry with him for waking you up and trying to hug you, just to say goodnight.” Apparently he wasn’t very successful in waking me up, as I was basically sleep talking.). For once in my life I was really into my acting (directing is my main passion), so into it I dreamt about it.

On “D-Day” we went to the Old Vic and we sat in the theatre watching people from different schools auditioning. Kevin was smoking cigarettes whilst watching everyone and giving feedback. Although fellow students later told me it was the best acting they had ever seen me do, Kevin told me my accent reeked, I couldn’t do a “mad Blanche” because that was too usual of an interpretation (if you ask me, it’s the only valid interpretation) and clearly I was younger than the character. It taught me a thing or two about choosing auditioning pieces.

What also stuck with me from this day was Kevin’s speech about being an Actor. The idea that you never know who will “make it” next, so you better be nice to everyone and you better work your ass off. Most Actors, he said, like going to the pub instead of work. He didn’t recommend that. In my school we we were in class from 8:30-5:30 every day, we had rehearsals until 11:50 and we were usually in school most weekends too, so I was happy to hear that. I was happy because I heard the tale of a hugely successful Actor telling us his long, hard journey, in an inspiring, no bullshit way. Clearly, he also loved his profession and he was willing to help young Actors by welcoming them into his theatre, lending his time. For that I give him cred.

Recently a video has become hugely popular amongst my FB friends. It’s a video where Kevin, once again, speaks the truth in a very straightforward and honest way. I love it. I love it because it is so true. There is no “tomorrow.” There is no fame and fortune awaiting around the corner. There is only this moment and doing what you love right now. Plan for the future, but live you passion now. Right here, right now.

So may I ask you: What are you doing with this incredible week/gift of time that is awaiting you? What are you filling your hours, minutes and seconds with?

My love life…raw, naked…

There was nothing I could do. The sky was a naked, empty canvas. A nothingness. Images were flashing through my mind. Images filled with laughter. Images filled with comfort through the tears. Images of holding hands. Such a simple thing. Holding a hand. Simple yet powerful. A support during long nights, through pain, through laughter.

You don’t need much in this life, not really. Healthy food on the table, a roof over your head and a certain level of comfort, being surrounded by a nice environment is enough. The secret, or not so secret needs, of the heart though, are much different. They are the ones that will whisper quietly, yet with strength; they are the ones that will keep you up at night. They are the ones that rule you, if you let them. Maybe you are in charge, maybe they are. I don’t know, but you heart will ache with those desires…ache…

I’m not sure if we were born with them, or if we were brought up to believe in them; if fate by chance, or purpose placed them in our lives. If it’s a cruel joke, or a divine plan. If it’s a choice, or a prison. I really don’t know. All I know is that since I was a kid I’ve had a restlessness in my heart. Maybe restless is the wrong word, maybe passion, or desire the right one. From time to time it has been a man who got hold of my heart and made me twist and turn in my sleep, wondering how it was humanly possible to long for something, or someone so much? Did I choose it? Why? Why him, why then? Why still now? Why long for the impossible? An illusion, or a reality? It keeps changing, whom the heart belongs to. Most oftenly though, it has been other things that have made my heart flutter with excitement, or ache with pain. A longing. Always a longing. To do. To do that which I love the most. I always wanted a nice lifestyle, I cannot deny that. I wanted to play with some toys. What propelled me though wasn’t only the cash, or the glory. It was a longing to do. My greatest gift wouldn’t have been a million to buy a house for, my greatest gift would have been a million to play with. Make movies and create companies. Tell stories. Help people. Creating positive change. Play. Play with the desire. Set my spirit free within it. Live. Live as I desire.

I’m happy today. I’m happy most days these days. I don’t think I’ve ever before felt so fulfilled, so calm somehow. I’m no longer dancing to other people’s tunes so much. The need for fame and glory has subsided drastically too. I still want to impress at times, prove my worth, but it’s getting less and less. Not only have I realized that I cannot make people love me that way, I also see the futility of it all. One man down, one man up. There’s really no point. There’s a point to excel, to drive humanity forwards. To help. There is no point to be glorified more than as an inspiration for others and that really doesn’t have anything to do with the glory. They should not seek to do what you did for glory, for fame, or fortune. They should seek to do so because you made a positive difference. Because they know they can live their fullest potential also. For inner satisfaction and outer change. No one is a hero. Everyone is a hero. There are so many successful people who know nothing of success and so many failures that are successes. Happiness. Fulfilled desires. Call it what you may.

The happiest I’ve ever been is jumping through waves. Free. No worries. No stress. No ego. Surrounded by fun people and an environment I love. Simplicity. Like sitting fishing in summer, or scrubbing potatoes on the beach, preparing a fire for dinner. I’ve experienced it in different places around the world and the common elements were nature, the beach, people, love, a willingness to let go and simplicity. The voice in my heart never quiets down though. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I do. Propelling me forward. It screams of a need to create. Constantly. Maybe it is about living to my full potential? But surely you must be able to do that in every moment already? Even if you can’t execute all your ideas in one go? I don’t know, but it always drove me nuts. It only quiets when I’m in the middle of something. Something that I can actually do. Not a company that will be launched in a year, but a play that is being put on right now, or a painting that will be done in a minute. Yet, the company that will be launched in a year is what I truly want to do.

I always wondered what the people without it felt? Or if anyone is truly without it? That urge, that pain, that itch that propels you forward towards your dreams. Sometimes it tires me – I never see an end to it. When one idea has been executed, another arrives. It’s never silent. At the same time it invigorates me, makes me fly, makes my heart beat faster, makes me grounded, makes me feel on fire, makes me happy, satisfies me. When I get to do it. It’s a choice though to do it. It just doesn’t always pay the bills. Not until you get the hang of it. I have already written about that – all the twists and turns of my life. All the little cross roads, the wrong turns, the hard years…now it feels better. I guess, like any drug addict, I’ve learnt to control it. Learnt that you can only do what you love if you also pay the bills. You have to be realistic, yet you have to be unrealistic and keep pursuing. You have to find a plan, because sure as hell the end product is not where you begin, yet you have to let your dreams lose. Free to fly as they wish.

At the same times it has also been a long road of setting myself free. Of not just living within my field, within my work. Learning to allow myself to be me, to be passionate without regrets, to live as I choose without judging in real life. Work was always my outlet. Where I allowed myself to do exactly what I wanted to do. Where I felt free and confident. Where I was happy.

When it all crashed I learnt that I had to live everywhere in my life. Not just within one thing. I didn’t only want to live through work. I didn’t want it to be my only outlet. I wanted to be me all over. It’s a liberating thing that. Being yourself and being confident. Confident that you can handle whatever life throws at you, full well knowing life can throw anything at you. I love my life. I can honestly say that now. After all these years.