Piece By Piece

Like many, I have mental health issues. For a long time, I was being treated for anxiety, anger, and OCD. I also have an eating disorder; ARFID (Avoidant or Reluctant Food Intake Disorder) which, as I progressed quite strongly and, what I thought to be resiliently, in my recovery, it led me straight into Anorexia. I was seeing a therapist for these as separate issues.

Until recently.

A new therapist (after an attempt at a break from sessions) considered that these might be symptoms rather than conditions, and sent me to a specialist in Adult Autism… I was diagnosed a mere three weeks later.

For my day job, I work in a supermarket. It’s not your average supermarket however; most big chains have someone who only sits on a till, who only stocks the shelves, who only clean, who only maintain the warehouse… while we do all of these things. I’d say the name of the company but, since what I’m about to say could come across as my jabbing at them, I’ll refrain. This is a fairly recent discount supermarket chain that grow bigger and bigger everyday. They put a lot of pressure on staff to serve as quickly as possible so that more people can be seen to in a day. We’re timed on our check-out scan speed, our shelf stacking, and our store maintenance duties to ensure we are as efficient as possible. Being a discount store, they tend to place their shops in poorer areas, so our clientel can be, shall we say, challenging. No matter the length of my shift, whether it lasts sixteen hours or four, I arrive home completely worn out and, as family so regularly point out, in a bit of a mood. This environment does nothing to ease my mental health issues - if anything, it adds to them - so I’m hunting for a way out.

Along with all of this, I’m an indie filmmaker. Without coming across as arrogant… I’m good at what I do. I’m good at what I do because I’m in love with what I do. I’ve won awards in various different countries for acting, writing, producing and graphic design. When I won these awards, I occasionally suffered from what I was later told is a condition called Imposter Syndrome. Just another thing for me to try and navigate.

Filmmaking eases my soul. Absolutely. It helps me to feel in control of something, and sometimes even answer questions about my own life that I’ve never been able to figure out.

As a writer, I’m creating the story. I’m delivering the message, I’m asking the questions and, potentially, I’m even changing people’s minds about something. I’m also, hopefully, entertaining the audience in the process.

As a producer, I plan each day of filming, and everything that happens afterwards. I book locations, collect all the necessary props, organise set dressing, get insurance sorted out, and then create a schedule. Afterward, I organise the premiere and, not only choose what festivals it goes to worldwide, I also decide what awards it gets put up for. It makes me sound like a control freak… I’m not. I’m quite happy to hand my film over to a director I know and say: “do whatever you want, under two conditions: don’t change the characters and don’t change the story.” Aside from those two things, the tone, the style, the pace, everything… that’s all down to them.

As an actress, I get to be part of bringing my story to life as well as be part of sending that message, or asking that question… but mainly, I get the chance to not be myself for a while; I can have sleeve tattoos up each arm, have a different walk, accent, voice, dress sense, a different job. Hell, a different personality. It’s a break from being wrapped up in my own mind, and I take a lot of solace from that.

As a graphic designer, I can delve into the first sight an audience gets of my film. The poster. I control the theme, and the consistency. I choose how much of the story I let them in on before they even see it. But, graphic design isn’t as simple as making something look appealing; where do you want their eye line to go? Does it take in all the imagery before making its way to the title, or vice versa? Well, that depends on your placement, and the colours used, and the sizes. Is it to have a soft touch like it’s reaching out to hug you, or be hard hitting so as to come out and slap you in the face? Is it playful or serious? Colourful or monochrome? What message am I looking to send about the film that’ll make them want to watch it?

This isn’t the thing that I do to settle my mind and, therefore, my soul. This is my hopeful career that I fight for everyday. This is my dream that I battle constantly to bring myself closer to it being a reality. But, as much as this isn’t ‘the thing’… it’s still important. I explained it to show you how I came across this activity.

I’m setting the scene - pardon the pun.

Currently, I’m in preparation for a film that’ll be the biggest project I’ve ever done. It’s based on a true story, set in the 17th Century, and features an old ruined castle… before it was ruined. An expensive way to deal with this problem would be CGI. But, I’m an indie filmmaker, not a blockbuster creator.

The cheap way? Modelling.

Ohhh, my…

I remember thinking at the time: “This is a monstrous task to take on. The final thing is going to be huge. But, if I can do it… boy, it’ll be epic!” Not for one second did I consider how much peace it would bring me, how it would adjust my focus, or how it would re-align my thoughts.

First, the foundation would need to be measured, cut, and constructed. Many sites suggested using cardboard from old boxes but, I didn’t have any of those, so I went with foam board; it’s light, it’s cheap, and it’s better for the environment than something more reliable like plastic.

The next objective in my mission was applying the clay. I followed the widely supported instruction of using PVA glue before applying the quick-drying clay to hold it in place better. It had to be precise, and I made tons of mistakes on my first couple of attempts; I didn’t use enough glue so it had all cracked when it dried, and I applied clay around the full side of a building before carving in the detail… I didn’t realise how much time that’d take, so I hadn’t even gotten half way around it before the rest had dried without any carving done.

The design bit, for me, is the best bit. I need to be concise. It all needs to marry up. While it is a centuries old building I’m designing, which gives some leniency to how strict I need to be, it still has to look intended, like it was meant to be that way. Sure, I’m hunched over for hours on end and I feel like I’ve just emerged from a coccoon when I stand up… but when I stand up, I feel like I’ve actually done something. Achieved something. One step closer to the next big production. But it’s a welcomed distraction, and I’ve already got two other ‘sites’ lined up for me to make models of.

For the first time in a long time, I found that thing that’s mine. No one else is doing this for me, nobody is holding spare tooth picks for me to carve the brick work like someone’s recording the sound for a film, or applying the glue to the foam board like someone’s editing the film together. It’s just me, with my music, in my own little world, and I adore it.

Just like writing, acting, producing and designing, its intricacy takes sheer determination which stops my brain from having any room to think, worry, or stress about anything else. I feel whole when I’m creating something from nothing. This is just a new way for me to do it that doesn’t feel like ‘work’.

I’m glad I’m tenacious in my efforts to forge this career that I want. I’m glad that I’ll do absolutely everything humanly possible by myself to try and keep production costs down. I’m glad I don’t apologise for doing what I need to do to keep my intrusive thoughts at bay, even if doing so has people see me as a control freak.

I’m glad because, otherwise, I’d never have found this.