Movie review: The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn: Part 2

Dribble, dribble, dribble. Not for fawning over the dreamy, living-dead Edward Cullen, but because, I may have fallen asleep with my eyes open and dribbled on my hand.

For goodness sake, what was I thinking? The hype over this Bella girl, this Edward vamp and a shirtless wolf had me religiously "researching" the first few movies. Watching what all this fuss over glittering vampires was about. (Seriously. Still can't accept that vampires glitter, in the sun. NO GLITTERING. Opposed to glitter.) Their dainty fangs had me hooked in the fourth instalment of pasty creatures with issues beyond my comprehension.

Due to the fervour with which I had whipped myself into after the bed broke from "that scene". I became obsessed with the release date of this final chapter in Stephenie Meyer's fantasy. So much so, I picked up Vampire Diaries in the interim to assuage my craving for blood - or really - to watching the undead indulging in their craving for human snacks. (Wow, what's wrong with me ... ?)

But this, was ridiculous. Not being a snob - as it's good for me to believe I'm someone who likes to keep an open mind - but, what in the world was this about ... ?

Granted the long, sweeping scenery scenes were melancholic and added the hauntingly beautiful appeal necessary for vampire love stories. However, my tears come not from the beauty of their relationship, but, from the realisation that I will not get those two hours of my life back. I lost two hours of my life watching a girl fulfil her dream of dying. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.

Just a host of contradictions that leave my head twirling. The promoters have targeted the fanatical hormones of a teenage crowd, and I'm the one getting emotional over it.

Tweens will be pleased to see perfectly coiffed hair extensions and perfectly placed eyelashes.

However, for the die-hard Bella-Edward fans, the tender, longing, love-lorn gazes have been noticeably muted in this movie. It seems the devoted pair have toned it down a bit in the presence of their devastatingly beautiful daughter, Renesmee.

This movie is not for any analytical mind which craves subtext, subtlety and complications. The opposite: for moments of intense need to switch off said brain, this is the perfect choice.

I guess if you want mindless, mediocre, big-budget productions that pass for entertainment, then by all means. Safe enough to take your ten-year-old (except for one, or two, bedroom scenes).

Just a thought though, here in NZ $17 (an adult ticket price), can buy you a fairly decent dinner or lunch - with a drink. That at least nourishes, instead of sapping you of the will to live in a dark theatre, feeling like a mindless zombie, watching glittering vampires.

Until next time,

Jos

Verdict: Leaves a bland - yet surprisingly bitter - aftertaste. The memory that lingers is one I wish to forget. Hope this doesn't last, forever.
Rating: 1/5

IMDb rating: 5.9/10 (click here to go to the site.) 
Rotten Tomatoes' Tomatometer: 48% (spending time reading the comments alone would suffice. Make me feel a bit better that others have suffered the same fate.)

Description: "Brought back from near-death by Edward after childbirth, Bella begins her new life as a vampire and mother to their daughter, Renesmee. When the Volturi are led to believe that Renesmee was not born as a vampire but, rather, turned into one in violation of their code, the Volturi set out to destroy the child and the Cullen clan. The Cullens band together with vampires from around the world to stand united against the Volturi."

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What happens when you read the word "Muslim"?

Stunned by my own biases, and how in my mind, there are negative connotations associated with "Muslim", and not for others.

A muslim is a person who adheres to the faith of Islam. Photo / rgbstock.com

It wasn't until I typed out, "A Christian can think of Jesus or God, a Muslim can reflect upon Allah," that I realised the insidious way society's overly negative portrayal of Muslims has tainted my own impressions of people not unlike me.

It was a shock when I realised how typing out "Christian" drew forth no negative thoughts, but, when it came to "Muslim" there seemed to be a slight hesitation and aversion to the word. 

Disgraceful on my part. But, frighteningly ingrained. A prejudice I didn't believe existed in my mind until this moment. 

Reflection is in order as to how - without even understanding these people of a different faith - I could have come to the conclusion that negative feelings should be drawn from the mere mention of this negatively stereotyped "other". 

Suicide bombings, female oppression, exploiting religion and using it as an excuse for warfare. These tragedies seem linked to the mention "Muslim". How is that even possible? 

News story after news story seems to clearly demarcate a place for Muslims in the "horror inflicted upon humanity" section. 

A passing comment here, a "war on terror" article there and incredulously, my mind has formed the impression that Muslims as a whole deserve to be categorised as "scary other capable of inflicting evil". 

Well, then, what about Christian white supremacists; the German effort to exterminate all Jewish people; or even the effort by a Communist China to reign over the largely Buddhist Tibet?

Death and terror have followed each of those references, however, there still doesn't seem to be the over-aching "evil" association which corresponds with the mention. Can't say Chinese, Germans, or Christians are evil due to the choices of a select group which made an indelible mark in our history books.

So why then, after all is said and done, is there the impression that "Muslims" seem far worse? There is no excuse for what happened on 9/11, and what continues to be seen in the media with a little girl being shot for wanting education for her fellow companions.

But, it's safe to say, my mind should not be made up because most stories/remarks have lumped this group into the unsafe category.

It's because there isn't any other view, therefore, I can't assume the worst. Just wish it were easier to understand a group of people society deems too dangerous to portray in any other light.

Can't believe what people - myself included - are capable of doing: condemning people to negative stereotypes formed through incomplete inferences.

Being in the minority group, I know what it's like to have incomplete reasonings heaped on me in the form of discrimination. It's not a good feeling, that's why it was disappointing to see how easy it was to do to another. Scary how we/I can disregard people so easily.

Mistrust, misunderstandings and the brain's inability to see that "other" people have a different title, but still bleed red. No wonder there's a war on terror. Why shouldn't there be if we're constantly finding things to scare ourselves with?

I chanced upon that sentence which woke me up as I was writing notes from the Dalai Lama's book called An Open Heart: Practicing Compassion in Everyday Life.

There he implores for us to understand that "fundamentally, all beings are equal to you in their wish for happiness and their desire to overcome suffering."

It's so easy to flow with the tide of public opinion. Takes a bit of courage to think otherwise. Reckon His Holiness is onto something with a call to be brave in having an open heart.

This song by Kevin Daniel just happened to be playing in the background as I started writing of my own ignorance. Think it reminds me I have to be a bit brave to challenge the ease with which I sway with majority opinions.

Until next time,

Jos

Please feel free to share what you think. Have you ever chanced upon a moment which made you question your own prejudices? What about the realisation that you had a bias/prejudice?

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More than just a piece of paper

A scroll which contains something more important than what's written on the paper itself. Photo / rgbstock

Dreams, hopes and aspirations. Is it possible to hold these in the palm of your hand?

Symbolism. The impact, the logic and then there's the emotion.

What occurs when people cradle an inanimate object like the holy grail? You couldn't pry it away with a crow bar.

What allows for something others wouldn't hesitate to dump in the trash, to become so valuable to another? A relic; a keepsake with an emotional tie that goes deeper than the peeling paint/varnish/shredding fabric?

What occurs in that moment when something becomes more than just a thing, and transcends its original value, becoming a priceless artefact seeped with the importance of someone's thoughts?

Thinking turns it into a treasure.

Like a piece of paper.

Entwined within the words "graduate" are both ink on the tangible level, and hope, on the deeper one.

A piece of paper becomes symbolic for all that a student wishes for, all that she/he hopes to become. There's magic mixed with sweat, coffee and tears. It's hard work driven by determination to become someone better. To be someone you can, or your parents can, be proud of.

Symbolism in an object.

For all the past graduates. Your dream is still there alive and waiting for you. That piece of paper which once meant so much, is now a symbol of the sleep-deprivation i.e. your hard work, resourcefulness and determination. A symbol of what you can achieve. Of what you still have yet to achieve. Of what you're capable of.

For all the graduands. I hope the message is keep on keepin' on. Exams are nearly over and a new dawn will break soon. The dawn of a future where you see yourself holding a piece of paper which holds much hope and promise.

Until next time,

Jos

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The little girl in pink

Life-like image drawn of the little girl. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Was walking in my own world of melancholy, thinking, what happened to the great days of old when the simple things in life were what mattered?

Just as that thought slipped past the net of endorphins fighting to barricade themselves in my brain I passed a girl no more than four.

Wearing a pink t-shirt and shorts combo she stood away from her dad, who had set himself between their brown labrador and me. The littler one of about two in a tutu, ceremoniously checked the letterbox.

The little girl in pink held my gaze and uttered, "Hello," a coy smile lighting up her face.

Just as I passed she added quickly, "Have a good day!"

Through a simple salutation, this wee one showed how kids can nourish the soul with their honest compassion.

Her view of a happy world untainted and uncorrupted by melancholy, or defiled by a merry-go-round of worries, picked me up in an instant.

A reminder that my own thoughts were the ones dragging me down, and how easy it was to switch by going back to the basics. This little girl was capable of brightening up my day.

Happiness, yes, it's that simple.

Until next time,

Jos

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The Big reTHiNK: Cast of Wayward Seniors caught on cam

(Clockwise top left) "Ruth", "Doug", "Sandra", me, "Alma" and "Jasper". Photo / Erin Gaffney 

Here's my team!

They surely did surprise me in rehearsal today. It was awesome to see them co-operating and trying out my requests, however over-the-top those seemed.

Saw them feeling a bit squeamish at times, but it seemed like they just sucked it up, powered through and cracked a few limitations that may have been hidden away in their psyche.

They listened, took in advice and delivered on a level exceeding expectations. Hoorah! Finally saw what I wanted to see in their performances.

The chemistry was there as they chose to reveal the idiosyncrasies of their characters, and also, a commitment to their lines which was wonderful to see. From what was observed in the time given to show what they were made of. They showed their capabilities, and then some.

I have been hard on them, must admit that point. The understanding is, the play's eight minutes. But, if those eight minutes stick out in your mind when you watch the show. Then pride and joy will be shooting out of my eyes. 

Ultimately, it will be for you to judge whether my nuttery was called for or not.

In five days, the great wish will be for you to experience what I'm talking about.

Until then,

Joselyn Khor

Tickets: From Q Theatre.
Ticket prices: $20 - $30 (Wed 03/10 to Fri 05/10), Gala Night Sat 06/10 $30 - $40.
Further information: Click here. The shows will run from Wednesday, October 3 to Saturday, October 6.
Facebook events page: The Big reTHiNK at Q.

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An ode to actors I cannot forget

Fascinated by the stage.

It's a curious position to be in. Sitting in the prime spot, smack bang in the middle of the seating area. Here, able to soak in the intensity, drama, minute facial expressions, and subtle brilliance of performances. This confounding situation I've alluded to is masked by the captivating interplay of darkness willing your eyes to focus solely on the vision before you. A vision which is enthralling, if done right.

The curious position I found myself in tonight, was that of an audience member, watching actors feeding me their passion through their impossible-to-fake tears, their taut bitchy faces or extravagant kingly gestures.

Watching all this unfold in the audience is magnificent and frightening at the same time for you know not what will come, and have no power to control what should be.

As a director, you advise, you bark orders, but on the night there is nothing left but to trust. These actors whom you see possessing a multitude of abilities are trusted to relive those rehearsed moments, but not only that, bring something inexplicably raw and uncompromisingly real to the stage.

In these moments, the voice of the director is a faint memory as actors themselves conjure up unforeseen capabilities that no order could inspire.

It is this capacity of actors to relive past pains, draw from that experience and drown in the sorrows of their stage skins that made being in the audience such a curiously wonderful experience.

In rehearsals, what we see, are sometimes tired faces that have memorised lines; walking the familiar walk to their positions.

However, on performance night. These sluggish specimens seem transformed. Their complexions glisten with a wilful wisdom as they strip away their inhibitions. From these expressions of complete concentration, you can almost envision their minds eye, seeing them enclosed in a cocoon, seeing the exterior slowly cracking away with each step they take towards centre stage so that as soon as the light hits them, these slugs become unimaginable creatures you cannot recognise. The beauty and grace of these stage vixens and beasts overcome their calloused, tired, human lineament. Inhabiting an otherworldly presence. One that can grasp your gaze and hold your breath at the same time.

'Acting' n.: the art or practise of representing a character on stage or before cameras.

Simple to read, hard to act upon.

In the dark, you see these forms before you, playing out the scenes. The fine line between reality and fantasy exists on a scale that the actor must balance precariously on. The weight of their performance can see them falling over the edge becoming too superfluous dragging you out of the scene, or so lacklustre as to make you aware of the dust dancing above their heads as they deliver their lines without sincerity, or even expression.

No, walking that fine line between reality and fantasy is an uncompromising necessity. A tyrannical rule which seeks to defile the sanity of directors and leave actors in a bubbling mess of self-loathing over the slicing words of harsh critics.

It's hard to walk on this tightrope of stage craft. Hard to find that balance, but when it's struck and the actor unfailingly captivates the audience as a daredevil does on that rope 200 feet in the air, you know you've chanced upon something extraordinary. You've laid your eyes on a person with the devilish finesse of a con artist twirling you around her pinkie. The stage vixen however, not only wants your attention, she craves your emotions. By the pure daring of her vulnerability laid bare, it seems you are allowed to open yourself up to the scene unfolding before you.

True beauty lies in performances that no longer allow for the definition of acting. The beauty of stage craft is the moment you no longer see the world around you as seats and the stage. The beauty becomes the moment you're invited into the life of that being in the actor's minds eye. The one you could've sworn you caught a glimpse of as he was heading towards the spotlight centre stage. The one that now exists before you as the remnants of the cocoon remain in the wings. A new being, a new life. Explosive energy and vivacious technique. The master of the craft is a master at trickery. Able to con you with their tears. The beauty of it is when you are awoken by the dampness of your cheeks having fallen as you caught that glimpse of theirs.

Actors. Like ghosts, the visions of you will haunt me as I walk out of those theatre doors.

Humbly yours,

Joselyn Khor

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Big reTHiNK update: One week and a bit left, eek!

Fuzzy peek at what I've been using in my DIY room for props and other things. See if you can make anything out. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Hi guys,

So the Wayward Seniors team has one week and a bit to go before they stun you onstage at Q Theatre.

Progress has been fantastic. Their deadline to remember lines came and went, with lines sticking to memory (for the most part).

Stage directions have been sussed and we just need to make sure you guys can hear them, so a bit more work on voices to go.

In the video I say they just completed their fourth to last rehearsal - not good with numbers on the spot - I meant fifth (or sixth) to last.

Costumes have been organised and I'm in the process of adding finishing touches to one of the actress' costumes. Praying everything will stay in place, otherwise feathers will be ruffled.

In other news. Sunday saw me driving to Titirangi's Lopdell House to meet a strapping gentleman who goes by the name of Henry Atkinson. Gathered around this stoic figure of a man - we had comedians, artists, writers and directors posing in green and pink for the Titirangi Tatler.

Photographer for the day: Taimi.

If you want to check out the behind the scenes shots, have a gander here.

Nice little trip, got to meet others involved in The Big reTHiNK, plus I got a free coffee out of it. Score.

Another photoshoot's coming up this Sunday and this will involve everyone, I believe. So all those acting and directing will be present.

Wonder if chaos will ensue. From what I've seen of this photogenic bunch, doubt there'll be cat fights or evil glares from across the room because at this point something definitely is amiss: egos.

Guess that's what you get when you're involved in something like reTHiNK, "craziness" is accepted because what's "normal"? Idiosyncrasies and oddities take centre stage leaving egos in the cold, and owners of upturned noses find themselves stumbling as the door hits them on their way out.

At least, that's my impression so far. We'll have to wait till Sunday to see if egos appear. As they say it's all an act for the camera. Now the real show will be what appears behind the scenes.

As I watch it unfold, wonder if there'll be any free coffee?

Until next time,

Jos

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Big reTHiNK: Behind the scenes Titirangi Tatler photoshoot

Here's a peek at what we got up to on Sunday with Henry.

Was like drawing blood from a stone trying to get him to crack a grin. Photos / Joselyn Khor

Taimi trying to cheer Henry up.

Flynn Allan with a head piece. 

Taimi setting up the camera.

(From left) Paul Rogers (artist), Flynn Allan (actor), Stewart Allan (musician) and Rob Wigley (musician).

Snapped this as everyone got ready to put on smiles for the other cam.

The Westie reTHiNKers and lothario Henry. Photo / Taimi Allan/Facebook

Renovations underway to restore the theatre at Lopdell House.

Theatre light room.

Past performers enshrined in a photo collage.

Chilaxin area.

Paul Rogers and Jennifer Rogers on up.

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Big reTHiNK's Wayward Seniors play: First rehearsal

I threw a giraffe. Photo / Wikimedia Commons image posted by user Roland H.

Booyah!

First rehearsal done ... and dusted.

Got the actors to throw crocodiles and paper airplanes at each other while I threw a giraffe. For a warm up.

This warm up involved a person moulding an imaginary ball into anything they wanted then throwing it at another person to catch.

Don't worry guys, we weren't harassing animals at the zoo. We were becoming animals through the craft of, acting. (In my mind I'm saying "acting" very dramatically, it's fun!)

Firstly we tried out laughter yoga. Think it's pretty funky. Weird, but funky.

At least we got to say we chased people out of the room with the power of our laughter. Don't know if that's a good thing ...

Man, there are so many different kinds of warm up techniques I never knew existed out there. Really going to have to wade through them all to find out the ones that will be suited for theatre actors.

Will be fun trying to figure that out.

This is going to be short, because as you may be able to see in the video, my brain's just refusing to cooperate right now.



Until next time,

Jos

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Singing ... me?? That's preposterous! Apparently, not

Could I possibly sing like Adele? Photo / Wikimedia Commons image posted by user  nikotransmission

Yes, I sound like Adele, choking on a lemon.

No musical talent whatsoever. That's how I can describe myself when asked.

Then where does Adele factor in to all of this?

Well apparently, there's a chance that with proper training, I may sound like her when she's got a cold.

Gives me hope anyway.

That's the lesson learnt from a vocal seminar attended today.

Michael, our vocal coach, gave a two-hour powerpoint presentation on how - with the right techniques - "singing talent" can actually be learnt.

Your voice is a muscle, the more you use it the better you'll become.

I won't go into extreme details but one thing that hit me was: you don't have to be born with a good voice. Or that "special gift" because according to Michael, that really is a myth.

Many of the talented people who seem to be beyond greatness in the vocal arena started singing when they were in diapers.

So they've had plenty of time to practise, and you know what they say about practise.

Of course there are those who are born with good voices, but they've also gotten to where they are with a lot of training.

According to Michael the majority of great singers have been at it, learning, practising and training for eons.

That means, for those of us who have ever said "I can't sing", there's evidence to refute that.

The idea, in essence is: no-one is really "born with it".

So you don't have to be afraid of your own voice in a karaoke bar.

Usually the thought of stringing together sounds to go with music through my mouth, terrifies me.

So, this was actually really encouraging to hear. Refreshing insight to prepare me for the next stage of life: Becoming Lady Gaga.

There are no shortcuts to good singing though, just hard work and interest in the techniques.

As a result, it seems I don't think Gaga's the way to go. If I were to train, who knows what I could punch out with this muscle of mine.

Plus, "I wasn't born this way, but there's hope I will become that way if I work hard enough ... " just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Anyway, the thought that people who have always wanted to sing but never tried it because of that little voice that said "can't", made me want to share this.

In reality, you can.

A baritone could potentially sing mezzo-soprano if he stuck in the hours and wanted to achieve that feminine allure. Or was that a contralto singing countertenor?

There were a lot of fun terms.

The point is, if you've always wanted to give singing a try, there's nothing holding you back. It's not that you weren't born with it. It's that you haven't actually applied the right technique to get that muscle going.

With the right education and training, there's a chance I may see you in concert one day.

Or learn another skill, like, lip synchronisation.

Until next time,

Jos

P.S. I haven't been able to ask Michael for any further information but if you're interested I can see if he can share a few of the slides. Or pass on his contact for you. For now, here's 'Voice Training 101' found courtesy of Google.

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reTHiNK update: First meeting planned, then I got them all lost

Cast of Wayward Seniors. Photos / Joselyn Khor

I'm not good with maps, and it appears I also have special powers in that this inability of mine can be transferred onto other people. Through the mere task of me referring to maps, others are at risk of being marooned in no-man's land.

So it was that each one of my actors and actresses proceeded to get lost due to my inability to find my way around a map.

Finally got most of my cast to meet at the end though, which is ... phew.

I really need to learn what this whole 'geography' thing is about.

Onto the meeting. It went well.

Discussed all aspects of the show and it seems like the cast are pretty damn happy with what they've read, and what they can look forward to, too.

Will be getting the acting part sorted soon. 

This was the first time I got to meet them as real people. Not just names on paper, but real, living, breathing people.

Next part: seeing how they bring their characters to life.

For a bit about the show ...

Wayward Seniors will be a comedy so obviously, need straight-laced actors who cannot make fun of themselves.

Oh man, why so serious?

Carl Smith. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Will be playing banker Doug in Wayward Seniors. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Marina Volkova. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Will be playing grandma Alma in Wayward Seniors. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Gerry Jaynes. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Will be playing matron Ruth in Wayward Seniors. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Malcolm Dixon. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Will be playing Jasper in Wayward Seniors. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Nicole Marais. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Will be playing Doug's wife, Sandra, in Wayward Seniors. Photo / Joselyn Khor

On second thought, I believe it will work out.



Until next time,

Jos

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Feeling like an American Idol judge (+ video)

After finding my cast for Wayward Seniors, I really couldn't wait to get into that dark choc. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Thought I'd be too tired but just gotta get aaaaa-typin'.

Felt like one of the esteemed Idol judges at an open audition casting call today.

Directors for plays in the Big reTHiNK were seated in a line to watch actors and actresses perform before us.

Thought it'd be a bit intimidating for them - like how it was when I gave auditioning a crack - but lots of them seemed relaxed, confident and charismatic. Quite impressed with their composure, given how they had an audience of other performers as well.

Good experience. Feel like my brain's a bit fuzzy now, so a bit incoherent to people around me, but it was great overall. Taimi did a wonderful job of making it an enjoyable, comfortable experience. We had lunch catered and snacks were an arm's length away to munch on if we, or the performers, felt peckish.

Had so many different characters coming through. A variety of looks, voices, hairstyles. Talented deliveries. 

Was silenced by a few of the performances too. Had what J-Lo would call "goosies" skimming the surface of my skin a few times.

Then deliberated at the end. Another director and I nearly had a bar brawl because we were both impressed with this one actor. Were told to battle it out.

She had me in a headlock, I was squealing on the ground ...

No. There was no drama actually. She made a good point so she ended up casting him in hers. I thought my other one was a fantastic choice too, better suited for my role, and the original guy better suited to play in hers.

So, if you want dramatic cat-fights, I'm afraid there wasn't much going on today.

Now, I can't wait to see what the other directors do with their talented crew.

Found a cast of my own too! Managed to choose five actors for Wayward Seniors. Can't wait to get the rehearsal schedule up and running so I can see what they're made of.

Yay! Tired, but it was well worth it. Can get this show rolling.

Home now and gotten my hands on chai tea and some dark choc. Mmmmmmmmm, delightful combo.

Great way to end a day of laughter, tears, and robot abductions.

Love this job.



Until next time,

Jos

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Audition tips: My first audition ever, holy crap

Travels With My Aunt, directed by Des Smith. Showing November 8 - 17.

I am shaking as I type this.

Went to my first ever audition. Bombed.

Man, if I thought I was a good actress in the beginning, I was fooling myself.

The calibre of the actors there. Incredible. How they stood, how they projected their voices, how they took each role apart and built it into something they could call their own.

I was a little puppy amongst a pack of alpha wolves.

These people knew their skills. Talent in leaps and bounds - of course no one was leaping and bounding off the stage yet - maybe later on, because you know how actors like to play with the stage.

Anyway, ramble, ramble.

Thought I should just write something up to document this frightening, exhilarating, mad experience.

Firstly, just want to say. Respect to all actors and actresses out there who know their craft.

You guys make me look good.

I'll be directing a play called Wayward Seniors written by Rex McGregor in The Like Minds Big reTHiNK this year. Going to find cast members at auditions tomorrow.

Due to this I thought, 'Hey wonder what it'd be like to be in their shoes?'

So on a whim I emailed director Des Smith to ask if I could try auditioning for Travels With My Aunt. Gosh I hate my thoughts some times.

Off I went, dressed in a dapper ensemble. White chiffon shirt, even with a bow tie, to look the part of an onstage "pro".

The silly little outfit was the least of it.

I just about cried when I got up and read the lines. Sitting facing the director and his advisers in a line. We were told to read the script from the start, with actors reading lines, one after the other.

Of course at this stage, I thought, "No problem. This is easy enough."

Pumped out my best English accent and it all went smoothly. Thought I was a pretty sophisticated Henry Pulling and saucy Aunt Augusta at that point.

Then it dawned on me once we went through that first loop. These guys sitting beside me, were good. No, excellent.

Their delivery, their pauses, the punchy inflections in their accents. The tone of their voice. Everything. Marvellous.

I had thrown myself into the deep end and now I was drowning.

My thoughts began to spiral ... "Shit. What have I gotten myself into?"

We were then asked to get into groups of three.

Now was the tricky bit. The first group went up, including Joseph (a talent among other talents), and delivered.

I was speechless. In awe.

To have such charisma when you know you're being judged is one thing, but doing it effortlessly, without a care in the world, is another.

I knew right then and there I was done for.

Michel (one of the other talents I was grouped with) gave me sound advice.

"Just keep swimming," he said when I told him I was drowning. "Have fun with it.

"Get the most out of it you can."

I tried. When our turn came to run through a scene. I shook like my clothes were on fire. The glaring lights, the eyes, then the shaking.

I started to get severe stage fright, which never really happened before when I acted in the musicals.

After our scene, there was a break, and then I was called in to see the director. Surprise, surprise I got to drive home and cry in the car early. (I didn't actually cry. Was rather delighted by what I'd just witnessed.)

What a wonderful experience nonetheless.

So, for all actors and actresses out there who are coming to auditions tomorrow. I know how you feel.

Please rest assured I will not laugh at you, or look at you like a fool. I have such tremendous respect for each and every one of you because it takes courage to stand in front of others and put yourselves in the spotlight.

If I ever go to another audition because I'm suffering yet again from one of those "genius idea" moments. I'll be sure to let you know.

Tips:

• Prepare like there's a gun being held at you, and you have to do it to save yourself. If not, you'll be the one with that pistol shooting yourself in the foot on stage.

• Really learn who the characters are. Get to know their backstory. Devise a way to hold yourself in the role. Be the person you're portraying. Have fun becoming this whole other being.

• You need to know accents inside out or else you'll trip up and your tongue will be in knots. Check out all the videos showing people with the particular accent. Amy Walker knows her stuff. She's a good person to start off with. Andrea Caban's pretty onto it too.

• Don't think you suck. If you're faced with other more experienced actors, try not to let your thoughts get in the way of your performance. Joseph believes if you think crap, you'll start to spiral. So, just don't think, and just do. Get right into it and have a blast with the role.

• I forgot to do this next one so I went all clammy: breathe. Breathe into your diaphragm.

• Concurrently, try and remember projections. Get that voice of yours to the back of the theatre so the audience there can hear you.

• Love every bit of it. Working yourself up and getting too nervous defeats the purpose of why - as a performer - you're there. Hopefully you're there because you love the craft, you love theatre/film/acting. If you do it with real passion, real love. There's no knowing what roles you could be cast in.

• If you're scared. Think, "Jos made an absolute fool of herself, at least I know I can top that demented performance she tried to act out." If you think that, I'm not your friend anymore, but, yes it was a demented performance. Although Des did say I had good energy ...

Break a leg guys!

Until next time,

Jos

What are your best tips to share? Have you ever had a crappy audition too, what was it like? Feel free to voice out in the comment box below.

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Finding happiness: When photos reveal inner truths

Little yellow flower from my garden. Photo / Joselyn Khor

Looking back at my old photos (on FB) has been an eye-opener. Even though I went through untagging a few, I couldn't help but notice how happy and carefree I looked back in 2009. There was such light and joy surrounding the old me.

Guess when you're on the cusp of adulthood, everything induces a state of euphoria. Even stressful uni assignments.

Untainted by the pain of heartbreak/betrayal/missed opportunities/disappointment.

Now three years on, and the photos are of a soulless haggard mess. Gone are the twinkles in eyes turned to stone.

What was it back then that had me in such a state of bliss? Was it the naive impression of the world before me?

Innocence can be a blessing I reckon. Childlike bliss. When you enter the working world, it appears you've stepped through a doorway to hell. Dog eat dog. People devouring other people; chewing then spitting them out like tasteless gum.

The world of innocence forever banished to an untouchable realm.

This observation just struck me once I got thinking. "Man I would've liked to have been friends with the Joselyn of old. The pictures of the Joselyn now, I just want to run from."

I guess a lot of people have felt the same way about me. Three years has seen a marked transformation in my soul, spirit and disposition. The harsh lessons have hardened and shaped me into a person I can no longer recognise in the mirror.

I shudder to think what the old me would've thought.

So. That's me drowning in nostalgia, wanting to come up for a breath of fresh air. Breathe new life into this tired soul.

I miss the old me. Life keeps rolling on and pressing forward while I'm here wallowing. Which is wholly unhelpful.

The carefree days may be a thing from my past, but that doesn't mean I can't create new ones too.

There's defiance in me yet.

Smiling is sexy, apparently. Let's start with that. Let's start small. Let's find wonder in a small yellow flower. Joy in the sun giving vitamin D. Excitement in the stirring of the leaves, marking an atmospheric shift into warmer days.

Ushering in spring allows me to shed the dark, heavy burdens of old. 

Petals peel back in order for the flower to burst into bloom. Might take that as a sign for me too. It might be my cue to pull back this shield of sullen indifference to the world around me. Of which I've been using as a barrier to fight against unhappiness. (Ironically this barrier has become the thing helping unhappiness fester.)

So. I refuse to become jaded.

As it so happens, I feel a little sprightlier, my hands seem to be scrunching up in a ball, and there it goes, a little fist pump.

Time to bring sexy back.

Until next time,

Jos

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Comment: Are Asians ugly?

Peace out homies: Rocking the typical Asian sign (not me, I would shoot myself if I ever posed like these girls). Apart from the stereotype, would you consider her beautiful? Photo / Facebook

It suddenly hit me after seeing, for the umpteenth time, the "typical blonde beauty". The realisation wasn't that blondes were beautiful, but that all blondes were Caucasian.

Then that thought snowballed. 

Being a person who works in the media, I am surrounded by images of luxury, beauty and epically glamorous people. I work under the banner of Life & Style after all.

Having been blanketed by these representations of attractiveness and of "what's hot" for two years, it's only taken that amount of time for it to dawn on me ...

Of all the images I've put up, and of all the articles I've read about beautiful people who have it all - not one of them has been of an Asian face. Not one of those profiles of gorgeous people featured a yellow visage.

I do understand beauty, like fashion, is considered a subjective thing, but it has never struck me as clearly as it has today.

Can people even tell if beauty resides in the Asian race if all representations of beauty belong to a Caucasian face?

Flicking through any fashion and beauty magazine, or any magazine at a supermarket for that matter. It seems Asians don't really factor into the equation when considering the ideal vision of attractiveness.

Researchers have tried to weigh in on this; trying to figure out what "beautiful" is. Turns out, it's Florence Colgate. Scientifically proven to be the fairest of them all.

Which kind of indoctrinates the view there is only one type of beautiful person.

It's as if we're only allowed a taste of one kind of beauty as seen through: ads, newspapers, magazines and TV. In every single one of them, the ideal gorgeous face seems to be European/Caucasian.

Watching Supernatural also got me thinking along the lines of ... 

"Dayum, those boys are hot. Dayum, those demon chicks are hot. I'm pretty damn jealous of them being able to make Dean look in their direction. 

"Wait, not one hottie was Asian. Even if I were there, would he even notice? 

"Man my legs are short ... guess he wouldn't be able to see me anyway.

"Hmm, howcome only super skinny white girls are considered the desirable, sexy, seductive things capable of drawing such attention?"

Then came the question, are Asians ugly? Or are we just too foreign to appear attractive?

The fact remains, we are of a small stature. Some with squinty eyes, and 3/4 of us girls possessing stumpy legs. Nothing close to the Amazonian goddesses of Brazil, Miami or even, Sydney. 

Due to my job, I may have had my head crammed into too many fashion and beauty magazines for this sort of distorted view, but I only write this out of curiosity.

Having been in NZ since I was a bub, I've never really considered there to be such a stark monopolisation of one kind of "beauty" in the media. I guess having grown up here, that's all I've ever really known. That only European/white people can be considered beautiful or attractive.

In a way I guess this is natural as there haven't been any other messages to tell me otherwise. 

So I must ask, if beauty is a subjective thing, then howcome no other colours brighten up the eye-catching landscape of the media? Why is it there is only one colour used on this canvas representing an image of the world?

I guess differences freak people out because they are uncomfortable to deal with, but, don't we all deserve a fair go at being seen under the microscope of impartiality? To be represented so that others may well be able to consider for themselves, what beauty actually is? 

Instead of being force-fed only one kind of flavour, wouldn't varied tastes make for a more balanced judge?

It would be great if you want to share your thoughts.

I genuinely am curious to know other viewpoints about this matter. Can Asians be beautiful if there haven't been many views of what a beautiful Asian looks like? What is considered beautiful anyway? Legs that stretch on for ages; big eyes with fan-like eyelashes ...  or, what?

At this point, I've been born, so it's kind of impossible to look like those ethereal, towering twigs when I already possess thighs that look like tree trunks. Yes, an Asian with hips and thighs. 

Ah, dayum.

Until next time,

Jos

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