Monday, January 31, 2011

Something Pink and Something Blue.

Aaaaand, something slightly lighter:

Come what may...

Bernie got Brains.

My cousin brought this video to my attention.

Now, I know most of you will see the length - 13 odd minutes - and not want to watch it. But if I you have a moment, really, give it your time. It's so refreshing to see an American speaking passionately about one of America's greatest problems, namely: the war being waged by some of the wealthiest, most powerful people in the country against the disappearing, shrinking middle class of the country.

He brings up statistics and many great arguments that go with them that are very interesting, including a personal story about Christmas shopping. But to simplify, what Bernie is saying is that there is a tiny-weeenie percentage of the world population (10 million peeps, to be exact) that fall under America's label for the top 1 percent of highest-income-earning mofos and that that little tiny-weenie percentage is so well-catered for that their tax backs (generally speaking about R100 000 per year, per rich guy) are put at a higher priority than the government has currently placed education, health, child-care, etc... i.e. they're making the rich guys richer and the ones who can't pay for all the good stuff don't get given shit to change that.

This top 1 percent of income-earners earn more than the bottom FIFTY PERCENT of all income-earners. I'll paraphrase: 10 mil of our population earns more than the bottom 3-billion-and-whatever do, altogether. My maths isn't great. But that's round about how shocking it is.

"Mr President, while the middle class of this country collapses, and the rich become much richer, the United States now has by far the most unequal distribution of income on earth in history." - Sies.

Now according to this guy, there are some Americans who get it and who aren't ONLY into earning more money and more power. So, no, not all Americans are bad. At all. I know a couple great ones. But fuck, some of them really do need to wake up and smell the poor people. Hell, even the middle class people will do.


... By John Mayer

People have the right to fly

And will when it gets compromised
Their hearts say "Move along"
Their minds say "Gotcha heart"
Let's move it along

And airports
See it all the time
Where someone's last goodbye
Blends in with someone's sigh
Cause someone's coming home
In hand a single rose

And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
And I won't be the last
No I won't be the last,
To love her

And you can't build a house of leaves
And live like it's an evergreen
It's just a season thing
It's just this thing that seasons do

And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
And you won't be the first
No you won't be the first
To love me

You can find me, if you ever want again
I'll be around the bend
I'll be around the bend
I'll be around,
I'll be around
And if you never stop when you wave goodbye
You just might find if you give it time
You will wave hello again
You just might wave hello again

And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now

You can't love too much, one part of it (repeat then fade)

I believe that my life's gonna see
The love I give
Return to me

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Surf's Up.

Surfing Competition; Milnerton beach; 29/01/11.

...and the star of the day was definitely the little kaalgat who sat in front of us...

Friday, January 28, 2011

The great Great Gatsby - for real.

Tonight I watched a play. It was Peter Terry's adaptation of The Great Gatsby (the famous F Scott Fitzgerald novel set in the 1920s) as interpreted by The Mechanicals -- our resident theatre company. It was directed by Luke Ellenbogen and something that surprised me was that Emily Child (who played the lead female role: Daisy, AND was fucking phenomenal in Berkoff's Decadence last year) designed the costumes. I - a non-theatre maker / not-critic / non-designer - absolutely loved the costumes. And the set. And the lighting design. It's the first time all those design thingys have really made an impression on me, personally. I liked the black and (harsh) white that was the stage and walked the stage and lit the stage. It was strong and I don't care what other people say. I liked it. That's all.

Photography: Jesse Kramer

But this isn't a review. This is just an account of my evening. I went on my own. It was really... cool. I liked being there on my own. I liked the independence and the confidence I felt despite being alone and, hence, being forced to look around as if interested in every corner of the room and to read arbitrary things as if I were waiting for someone to come and join me. I really liked it.

When I took my seat, however, a very chatty lady - must've been in her 60s or even 70s - immediately started doing exactly that... with me. And only me. And at first, I thought I was doing her the favour, by responding so politely and being so friendly... She told me how "dashing" some of the Mechanicals' male actors are and how she wished this play weren't a setwork because it immediately revokes any chance of "full frontal nudity" - her words, I swear.

It was only when she started speaking of all of my lecturers (including Chris Weare) as "her babies" that I realized that I was, in fact, the lucky one. I was sitting next to someone important. But I didn't know who she was. Confused, I asked her how she knew them all - wow, I feel naïve now - and she told me she taught them drama at Rhodes University. She said Chris was an angel who wrote brilliantly and performed brilliantly. Way ahead of the rest of his class. And then she told me that Guy de Lancey (whose name she pronounced as if spelt "geeey" - is that the real pronunciation?) is "actually very bright" and then she mentioned a whole bunch of names I'd heard but didn't know anything about as if they were her greatest achievements. I wish I could remember even one name to Google. And I wish, even more than that, that I'd caught her last name. Turns out she's now a theatre critic. Her first name is Beverly. She was dressed in highlighter pink but wore it well. And I say "but" because I didn't think it possible. Until tonight. And she began lecturing me on Emily Child's performance during interval. She spoke of how Mia Farrow in the film version of the novel had the character down in various subtle ways and that Emily Child just hadn't found those nuances. Things I hadn't even considered were her top criticisms. That's the last time I'll ever think I know what I'm talking about.

So, if anyone reading this knows a snazzy old Beverly who taught drama and now writes reviews, pleeeaase tell me what you think her surname is. I tried google. But I found quite a few Beverlys so I need some more details with which to narrow my search.

Thank You.

and Bonsoir.

Oh, PS - go and see the play. It's great... for lack of a cornier thing to call it.

Crocodile shoes.


Dr Mandela

Earlier, I was listening to the radio and 5fm was tuned into a conference wherein Madiba's health was discussed. There was an announcement that he was to be discharged from the hospital at some point this afternoon, and that - owing to his contraction of Tuberculosis when he was imprisoned - he has always had weaker lungs, but that he is reacting astonishingly well to the treatment and, hence, for a 92-year-old man, he never fails to surprise us all... even the doctors, it seems. 

I got so emotional waiting for the verdict on the radio. I just sat there, alone in my car, on the verge of tears, not knowing why but hoping for the best and eventually just having a little sob of relief. I think he must be the strongest dude on earth. 

What a legend.

Happy week day!

I'm having an insanely good week. The weather has been beautiful, I got an agent, I got a letter from UCT saying I got the R14 000 scholarship for 3rd year, I had a haircut, I've eaten lots of sushi, I got asked out by the sushi chef, and I'm up-to-date with all I need to do :)

Life is good. Week is good.

All the best to all your own weeks. I hope they're as great or even better than mine's been!



Love this:

Senior Induction Day.

Sophie's got an important assembly today and she just looks so smart and happy and it makes me want to take a million pictures of her!

Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Windy City

Some old friends of mine have given birth to a musical awesomeness that is the ambient-indie-electronic sound of The Windy City. Check them out:!/pages/The-Windy-City/121853704497495?v=wall

Left to Right: Marco, Adrian, Jean.

Right to Left: Marco, Adrian, Jean.

Peace Out.

Thank you, Nils-Claudio.

My very proactive, humanitarian friend sent me a combination of his interests and my interests in the form of one book.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!


I fucking got in. I can't contain myself. I've been jumping around and screaming like a crazy person, which, anyone who knows me would say is very unusual. I'm just not like that. So... I'm pretty damn excited! I just wanna kiss someone!

The agent I saw was a woman named Janet and she was really much sweeter and friendlier than I had imagined her to be but was also super straight with me about things one normally wouldn't want to have been straight to about. Make sense? Like, she told me my big front teeth don't need to be seen so I need to practice smiling in a way that connects the essence of my smile to the viewer of the photograph or footage but without showing my front teeth OR looking like a spaz who's trying to hide her front teeth.

I also had to do some impromptu accent work for her. That was intimidating. Wow.

And then I did my trusty Juno monologue and got a couple laughs but she said the beginning was too fast - a crit I ALWAYS get. It's really a problem for me. Perhaps it's the nerves. Probably. I'll trump that shit. Eventually.

The whole process made me wonder what all the big guys went through at their first meeting with an agent. I wish I could watch the footage... But for now. Some pics of Bonnie Timmermann's actors in their early days:

and a couple more...
(hahah! Look at the similarity between Sandra Bullock and George Clooney!)

...and, last but not least:

... my favourite: Brad Pitt, Gwyneth Paltrow and Uma Thurman.

Over and out xxx


Gotta love 'em.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I'm auditioning for an actors agency tomorrow morning. This is my monologue. I love the humour in this script.


My dad used to be in the Army. He and my mom got divorced when I was five. She lives on a Havasu reservation in Arizona with her new husband and three replacement kids. Oh, and she inexplicably mails me a cactus every Valentine’s Day. And I’m like, “Thanks a heap, Cayote Ugly. This cactus-gram stings even worse than your abandonment.” My stepmom’s Brenda. She’s obsessed with dogs, owns a nail salon called ‘Bren’s Tens’, and she always smells like methylmethacrylate.

Juno Macguff. That’s my name. And the lady behind the bulletproof glass at the waiting room for Women Now – who allegedly help women now – thinks I’m using a fake name. Like Gene Simmons or Mother Teresa. She tried to give me these weird condoms that looked like grape suckers, and she told me about her boyfriend’s pie balls, and Su-Chin Kuah was there, and she told me the baby had fingernails. Fingernails! So. I’m staying pregnant.

I was thinking maybe I could give the baby to somebody who actually likes that kind of thing. You know, like a woman with a bum ovary or something. Or some nice Lesbos.

But come on. I can’t scope out wannabe parents in the Penny Saver! That’s tacky. That’s like buying clothes at the Pump ‘n Munch. I was thinking more like a graphic designer, mid-thirties, and his cool Asian wife who dresses awesome and plays bass. But I’m trying to not be too particular.

Because, you know, hey, this’ll all be resolved in thirty-odd weeks. And then we can pretend it just never happened. I mean, I’d give it away now, I would. But it probably looks like a Sea Monkey at this point, so I think we should leave it in there for a while until it gets cuter, you know.

Juno MacGuff and Paulie Bleeker


This is my first entry. Woooohoooo.

I find myself looking for 'cool' things to say and do while starting this blog because I've been reading so many 'cool' blogs lately and I just want to be 'cool' like that. But for now, I'll tell you what I am, aside from however 'cool' or un'cool' I am or am not:

I'm an actor, a photographer, a writer, a dancer, a muso, not a very good draw-er but a very good drawer. I'm a sister, a lover,  a fool and a friend. I'm interested, I'm busy, I'm lonely, I'm happy, I'm insecure, I'm confident, I'm vulnerable and I'm yours. Here.

But mostly, I'm an actor.

See you around.