Daddy dearest…

There are some days where as a stubborn person in life means you do not learn anything but your own opinions and hear the sound of your own voice. Then there are times where you realise how much you learn from listening to yourself and the experiences you’ve had. But no matter how hard I try to keep an open mind about my own experiences and my Dads, the generational gap cannot change his way of thinking; it can merely bend it to a degree. But that degree is not a win on my part that he came round to my perspective on any thoughts I put across. It merely meant that in a second he heard what I said and will choose to keep it, ponder on it or has already forgotten it.
What have I learned in this process is that my POV is mine alone and attempting to alter, change, offer a wider perspective to my Dad is not lost, not wasted and certainly not a defeat of me trying to change his/ the world; but that at least I connected with him. At least we laughed and at least we shared that time together. We talked a lot about “destiny” and “what if” moments, the last part of the conversation was “what if I won the lottery tomorrow, that would be my destiny” and I argued this was a “what if moment rather than destiny, and was based on statistical facts that you would not win”. Ultimately, there are odds that the outcome could go one way or the other but in the end who cares whose right and whose wrong.
“What if” I had the opportunity to live life again and make different choices. I wouldn’t choose to do this moment any differently as I know these moments will be far and few between.

I love you Dad

Stream of consciousness 

Esteemed soul, divine purpose
drive to my minds eye of truth
take back the streams of consciousness
that drives me to mad endeavours
of momentary suicide
to die or not to die but to discuss
the righteousness of others that befell
Me
inherited wickedness of deceit
but who is the deceiver, them or me
lie me gently in the arms of
forgetfulness of resentment of
the quietness that is beauteous
the silence of numbness
that guilt free, pain free death
of selective amnesia
coat me with your paint, armour
me with destruction
self pity, self hate bears heavy burdens
on my mind, draining my emotions of
comfort. The comfort of hate.
leave my body innocuous cuts that fill
with swollen words of lies. The language
of desert storms blistering my spirited
youth into undefinable eras of old age.
search for me when time remembers
that I did once exist.

Upstart

‘Upstart’ is the name of my short film, it’s about a female boxer who lives in the shadow of her brother’s success as a former boxer. Mia is seeking to find who she is and where she fits in the world.

Who am I? Well, I am Maria Thomas. I’m an Actress, Producer, Writer and a lot more like most people. I have so much passion about life, learning new things, discovering new places, listening to new people even the ones that annoy you. You can find my Producer page on Facebook, under Maria Thomas and I will shortly begin a page on ‘Upstart’.

‘Upstart’ is written, co-produced, co-directed and starring me. If you going to do a first project, you may as well do it all.

How did this idea come about? I did a play about a girl called ‘Cutter’, which is also the title of the piece by Sean Burn. Cutter begins the play at the age of 8 and by the end is 18yrs. During the play she confronts bullying, racism, self-harm, loss of her Mother and then during the play the loss of her Grand Father. The piece is about a journey of self discovery and independence which is why I was drawn to writing a short film with similar themes.

This is the adult version and finally deciding on the lead character’s name Mia, I am about to blog about her journey week to week, maybe more but in character. So this is where Maria ends and Mia’s journey begins.

Today is jus one of those days, it’s naggin me, this pain in my fucking hand. Fucking injuries jus won’t go away. I wanna go home, I just want to say “fuck off, I’m done” but I know his gonna gimme that look. Arhhh….just don’t look at me like that, I don’t need a guilt trip, I don’t need the talk, I need a f…king night off. He doesn’t have to stay every night…but he does, perfecting his techniques, his moves, waiting for his moment, not mine.  I don’t wanna be a fucking puppet…

“4 jabs, come on, stop thinking. Bam Bam Bam Bam. 8 jabs, Bam…”

I’m so fucking tired and it shows. I see his disappointment, he would not have given up, he would not have shown weakness. I muster whatever energy I have, “again, come on again”, I say and I see his fired energy ignited. Sometimes…I hate you brother.

It’s a start into the mind of Mia and the back story to the film. Thank you for reading and maybe follow the journey in future.

Half full, half empty

Hand on heart, no words escape my lips,

the truth of a past I cannot relive.

Moments lost, memories gained

an injustice to the memories unnamed.

Where are you now? Who, what, how

did I get here, I know not this time

this place, this home, my space.

Cloudy, unrecognisable since you’ve left

the hole in my heart is still bereft.

 

 

 

 

In the grand scheme of things…

Well, the last 12 months has been an eye opener of familial life, career, bullying, patterns of life, responsibilities and all the past memories or experiences I have gone through and still go through.

There are some memories I cannot wipe away but manage them on a day to day, month to month basis. Some memories like tonight, where I look at the clock at 12:20am and remember on this New Year’s Eve like every other for the last six years; you are no longer in my life. I cannot celebrate another year with you, go shopping with you, tell you about all the exciting moments in my life or share the partner in my life with you. We are no longer a family unit because the glue that held us together is no longer there.

We may have argued, hurt one another, spoken harsh words but isn’t that what everyone goes through, isn’t that normal? All those memories where I rebelled against your beliefs and wisdom of experience. When I thought I was right and you were wrong, when everything you had been through in life was for our/my benefit, but I couldn’t see through that as a child as a teenager and sometimes as an adult.

I remember many things like your red lipstick, your smile, your infectious laughter. I remember the brightly coloured clothes you wore. I remember you always wore skirts and dresses and dressed well even going shopping. I remember your colourful head scarfs and your Harrods bag that you took with you to work. The tea I would make for you in your flask, the cakes you bought home at 4pm from work as you loved afternoon tea. The family get-togethers at Christmas for afternoon tea at Harrods, it became traditional in our house. Chicken Biriyani, my favourite meal. The birthday parties and the mean cocktail punches everyone got drunk on. The people whose lives you touched and whom loved you dearly. You had a big, generous heart where you gave without a thought to yourself and you welcomed everyone in. I hope this is where my qualities come from, a part of you.

In the grand scheme of things, I suddenly realised “why am I sweating the small stuff, because it’s all small stuff?”. Why have I not lived life to full capacity and how did I become so constrained with how I navigated it. I vowed to myself, I would live each moment with fun, love and an open heart! If situations hurt or pained me then this journey of life is where I need to grow, develop, evolve and I will never stop any of those things. In the grand scheme of things, I’m alive and have every moment to create and be happy in and only I can choose that for my path. So, onwards to the next chapter of life and wherever you are, I love you Mum. You will always be in my heart and soul.

‘What If’…scenario

What if…

This blog has been in the making for three weeks, I’ve edited it, re-edited it, the new draft didn’t save and with so much happening politically at work one’s perspective has been affected.

So, without further ado, two things have been on my mind recently due to being ill (the mortality clock starts ticking, let alone the biological clock) and a video I watched on youtube. I thought I would attempt to tackle both in the same ‘What if’ scenario as they are connected.

The first scenario is ‘what if’ I had two days to live (ok most people have one in their scenario, but this is mine and I am feeling generous) what would I do? Well for a start, I wouldn’t sleep, why would I sleep or as some people would say “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”. (Whoever invented that saying should be shot!) I would spend time with loved ones and friends. Now, being a generous, loving person (modest too) I considered I’d make amends with people whom I’ve had tiffs with in the past…and then I thought fuck it, why would I waste time and energy on those who didn’t give a shit about me. Besides, how do you heal that baggage over hours if you couldn’t do it when you had days and weeks, I wouldn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me and I certainly would want to be two-faced. Instead, I would spend it with those whom I loved.

I would make films, short ones and post them on fb, twitter, LinkedIn (my legacy…ha ha ha). I am now filled with awe and wonder at the different spaces/places in London (or wherever I decided to live out my final hours) to visit. I would ask those whom I love to share the journey, even for an hour, just be with me. (Would I be disappointed at those who couldn’t be there? No, life is a journey and it evolves, adapts, grows and my path isn’t for everybody. It doesn’t mean they don’t care or don’t love me, but ego would have to STFU as there wouldn’t be time or room for both of us).

I would want to wake up in a swanky hotel, have sex in a King size bed and have everything on the breakfast menu (even if its to sample pure indulgence, it’s my last moments). I will dip into the Fifty shades of grey…hell yeah, (and more of course) if it was the last time my lover and I would spend together. Most people forget to mention this in their ‘what if’ scenario, but what the hell, these are my last two days on the physical plane, there’s no time to waste on contemplating.

I know at this point of realisation (if not earlier) I have two routes, the “ring of optimism” (as someone recently said so eloquently) or “the ring of pessimism”.  Well, the easy route is to freak out, cry “why me”, allow myself to fall into a state of depression, drink heavily, take drugs (hell I’m going to die anyway) blame my parents; the world for being the cause of this scenario. (Of course we are all allowed our moment of breakdown, hell we are entitled to it and only we can decide how long we allow ourselves to stay there).  And then I would look back at all the amazing things I had achieved in my life so far, all the small moments I wouldn’t even had considered or given much thought to. All the details of life that so many of us miss day to day due to inconvenience or our plain irritations. The rain on my face, a smile from a stranger, the sunshine whilst walking to work during a tube strike, a voicemail that I had saved to hear a loved’s voice, a hand in my hand. The architecture of buildings around me, poems on the underground, posters that made me giggle, street art and sculptures that made me think creatively or inspired me, music on my smart phone that moved me, a street that took me back to my childhood.

Would I go to the gym (being health conscious) probably not, but I would want to do something crazy like bungee jump off a cliff, skydive out of a plane, cut my hair for charity (not the hair, I hear you say) or a dance class that would highlight my hopeless co-ordination.

All I know is that I would want my last moments to be filled with laughter, love and as much happiness as humanly possible until I breathed my last breath because truly I knew this day would come. I just never prepared myself for it or maybe I did but ignored the inner voice because I thought I had more time. (It’s precious and short).

This list would be endless but let’s move onto the second scenario.

What would I do ‘If money was no object’? Hmm all this from watching this link by Alan Watts. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSyHWMdH9gk

What would I do? Well, I would take care of my family first and foremost so they would not need worry about money again, and hope they would live or begin to live and fulfill their own dreams too. (It’s never too late and it doesn’t matter how old you are).

I would share some of that love with my friends, now how I view money as important. (I am about to use a loving relationship with a partner as an analogy – bear with me on this one) As with love for an individual, there’s a respect and understanding but also a journey of discovery and learning along the way.  All the money in the world will not comfort you if you do not respect it or yourself. (Maybe a little far fetched but it was the best I could come up with at stupid o’clock in the morning).

I would wish to take my closer friends on some of the journey with me, maybe a holiday, maybe a yoga retreat, maybe a massive piss up or all of the above.

I thought I would apply for my 01 Visa and do some acting in the states, go across the world, explore different disciplines in each country but I realise I can do this without a Visa and would I really want to settle in one place. LA doesn’t hold the key to the Acting world like London isn’t the be all and end all of the Acting hub. I want to travel the world, learn about different countries, envelop cultures, eat various foods and meet people. I would write stories, poems, create short films and make a feature film of mine and others’ experiences; maybe based on truth or entirely fiction. I would love to dance, try many styles, do more physical theatre. After breaking my ankle and watching the para olympics, I knew nothing was impossible or hold you back apart from yourself. It’s not an easy mental and physical journey sometimes, but everything is possible with adaptation and support!

I would invest in charitable organisations and look at helping people around the world to understand about communication, love, sharing and discover their own talents and abilities but encourage them to take responsibility of this within their country, village, town etc.

I would look into sustainability and apply this to my life, home, career and eat organically from locally sourced butchers, markets or grow them at home. I would spend more time exploring homeopathic alternatives, practices and medicine.

I would continue my love of working with children, teenagers and adults in every capacity and teach drama to instill confidence, communication, self-esteem, belief in oneself and others. These are the legacies I would wish to leave behind and with people who may not be blood related but who are affected by inspirers, role models of their generations and others.

In all of my ‘what ifs’, I always felt I would be more material, want that miu miu purse, the swanky apartment in each corner of the world and not to say I wouldn’t want to be comfortable but it’s not the same “material” I want anymore. How I feel now is immaterial toward objects, things as it cannot teach me, communicate with me, allow me to grow, develop or love me.

If money were no object, would these really be some of the things that I would do? I ask myself, how many of these things am I doing already?  Do I need more time and money to feel limitless in my objectives, dreams or goals or am I negating the truth that I hold the power to take the initiative to implement these ideas anytime; just like anyone else.

“If you build it, they will come” (Field of Dreams – one of my favourite films). What would you do?