Archives: Projects

Right, first off I should offer my apologies for my mini (or maxi) rant in my last post. I really was annoyed though. For the record – if anyone from the STUDENT LOANS COMPANY or SLC happens to be reading this – I still don’t have the stuff I need to be able to square away my loans and actually get some money. Thanks to to lovely Bank of Mum & Dad, however, I’ve been able to settle myself with a computer in my room to allow me to actually, you know, work. That loan’s being called in as soon as the real one comes through.

But let’s move on as that’s not what you want to read/hear about anyway, is it? You want to hear about LIPA and – specifically – how awesome it is. And boy is it.

I’ve now been living in Liverpool for 16 days, which already feels like months. I know Liverpool pretty well now, although I’m still finding decent little short-cuts and cut-throughs to get me places even quicker. I’ve got my walk to uni down to a steady 15 minutes at a sensible pace and I can find just about every shop I want to or need to in town now, too. I’ve also learned that I’m never going to have a problem finding a Tesco. There’s at least 5 within a 15 minute walk of me, either at LIPA or my apartment.

The course is brilliant – a great mix of general knowledge technical and design stuff and more detailed, specific tasks. It is hard work though. All our days begin at 9.30am – because that’s the time professional theatre workers come in, usually – and if we have all day lectures, as I now do on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, we are timetabled to be there until between 4.30 (usually) and 7pm (on occasion).

In addition to the timetabled stuff I already have 5 assignments from my 6 modules, the first of which is due in just three weeks and happens to be the very, very hardest of them all. It’s called the Slice of LIPA project and it’s part of our design and construction course. We all have to choose a part of LIPA to accurately recreate in a 1:25 scale model.

I’ve chosen this area, the entrance to the Institute’s studio theatre venue in the atrium:

The Sennheiser Studio Theatre at LIPA

I have to say I thought it was a good compromise between tricky detailing and large sections of block colour, but as I began to measure for and – on Tuesday – to make the model, I discovered I was wrong. Apart from anything else I spent nearly 2 hours on Tuesday morning measuring out, cutting and carving all 12 individual paving slabs, after my initial plan to make it work, well, didn’t.

Across the other modules I’ve also been on a tour of the whole theatre, including the grid – the part of a theatre where all the wires holding up the flying scenery are gathered and other technical stuff happens that I either don’t know or is too complicated to get into here (mostly the former, granted). From the grid you can also get to the roof, which is where this photo is from:

The sunset over Liverpool from the LIPA roof

Not bad for a view, eh?

I have also started a stage management module, a lighting and electrics module, a context and professional development combined module and a fundamental skills module. These include climbing ladders, health & safety, soldering, reading scripts, breaking scripts down, knowing what DMX means and a variety of other things.

And on top of all this academicness (which may or may not be a real word), I’ve also been assigned my first show as an ASM (Assistant Stage Manager – get used to the abbreviation because I’m not clarifying it every time I write it on here!). I’m going to be working on the first big show of the year in the Paul McCartney Auditorium, which is to be Wind in the Willows. And when I say big, I mean big with a capital “B”. And, from the model box I saw yesterday, with a capital “I” and “G” too, I suspect.

In fact, I must excuse myself from this missive to go and wade my way through the script again and then tackle the 18 page (yes, EIGHTEEN page) props list. Wish me luck.

The truth (and the new-look, uni-fied blog) is out and I’m ecstatic, truly, truly over-excited and jumping around like a small child after a Sunny D and Haribo smoothie – I’m going to uni. But not just any uni (why do I want to write “A Marks and Spencer’s Uni” there…?) but the Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, LIPA, the academy of arts founded and patron’d by Sir Paul McCartney.

When I was a mere wisp of a lad at 16 I spent 2 of the best weeks of my life up in Liverpool at a LIPA summer school and have wanted to study there ever since. When I left school at 18 with doctors heavily advising me that it would be severely detrimental to my health to attend any university, I pretty much gave up hope of ever studying at all, let alone at my dream uni.

However, the idea of going to uni has been playing around in my head most of the summer as I’ve been battling my daemons and fighting to work out what to do with the rest of my now very open life. I had completed and submitted a UCAS Clearing application and sat waiting for A-Level results day to see what I may be able to find.

First thing in the morning, I jumped on and was surprised to find a course advertised at LIPA as they don’t usual support the UCAS system. So I gave them a call and spoke to a nice man who had no idea what I was on about. After a short while of to-ing and fro-ing he seemed to recall a late decision to include the course in clearing and suggested I send a CV over.

Having prepared my UCAS application and not much else, I hurriedly cobbled together an appropriate-looking CV for the purpose and emailed it across. I dashed over to Mum’s to have a quick chat and got a call while I was there from the lead tutor on the course offering me a place. It was that quick, that simple and that utterly amazing.

I will be studying a 3-year BA(Hons) in Theatre and Performance Technology, which covers pretty much all bases from lighting and sound to stage and production management with elective modules in directing and incorporating video into live performance. The course couldn’t have been better tailored for me and the opportunity couldn’t be more perfect.

I cannot even begin to express my thanks that I feel for my donor. While you’re reading this, please take a moment to think of their family and the precious, precious gift they gave me nearly 2 years ago. Without their courage and selflessness and the wishes of my donor, I wouldn’t be here, let alone physically able to pursue this opportunity. If you’re not already, go here right now and register as an organ donor – you may just change someone’s life like mine.

K and I have got a manic week getting everything squared away before our holiday, but for now I’m just floating on a cloud of magical happy vibes. Or it could be the Haribo…

I guess there’s ambition and there’s stupidity and I’m guilty of the latter.

I was so passionate about getting this flick made that I hadn’t stopped to look at the practicalities properly, thought it all through or taken the time to develop a team who could help out with the production side.

Naiveté can be a wonderful thing in some walks of life, but not in filmmaking. I underestimated the task in hand and the likely support for it and I overestimated my own ability to deliver.

Do I feel foolish? Yes. Will I plough on and keep chasing my dreams? Of course.

This blog – back to it’s original incarnation – may well cease to exist now, or become much less frequented. When I started writing here, the idea was to talk about my journey to transplant. I’ve been there now, I’ve passed that life-saving, world-changing milestone and I don’t now want this blog to turn into yet another “today I had a ham sandwich” diatribe about the world’s dullest daily life.

So feel free to check back every now and again and see what’s happening – or even better add me to an aggregator like Google Reader and then you’ll see whenever I throw something up.

Take care of yourselves and never give up on what you know is right for you.

Just North of London today I met with our military adviser about the impending shoot. They’re 100% behind us and are providing all manner of costume, equipment and research material, not to mention (fingers crossed) our main location, which is both awesomely unbelievable and totally unprecedented for a short film.

We’re waiting on one final go/no go from their ranges to see if we can shoot on the dates we want to, which should come through to us on Monday. All being well it’ll then be all systems GO! for an amazing, life-changing movie for everyone involved.

And don’t forget, YOU can be involved, too! All you have to do is click the link and you can become a Producer on Remembrance by helping us hit our budget target in time for the shoot. Every penny counts, so even if you can’t meet the pre-set amounts, hit the “donate” button and chip in what you can. And if you happen to be flush right now, there’s nothing to stop larger donations, either. And you get to see your name in the credits, too – and you get a free copy of the film when it’s all done.

This is all ramping up to be quite exciting just now and the pedal is about to hit the metal – come along for the ride!

As you may have seen from my Twitter feed I spent a large chunk of yesterday afternoon in a Costa drink cappuccino and shot-listing the flick. It’s always an exciting time when you first sit down to work out what pieces of the jigsaw you need in order to make it as great as you want it to be. It’s been on my “To Do” list for ages, but the enforced side-line in the coffee-house yesterday was the perfect time.

What I’ve come away with looks fairly ambitious, but do-able. It’s also likely to change dramatically as I see what we’re likely to be able to do in locations, get to know the cast and what they’re capable of and take notes from my crew on what they think we need.

And speaking of the crew, yesterday the first crew call for Remembrance went out on Mandy.com looking for a Director of Photography. It was due to go out on Shooting People, too, but annoyingly it got “vetted” as their sub-editor clearly didn’t read it properly, which was frustrating as I was hoping to get some responses in before the weekend, when I’m likely to be pretty tied-up.

In addition to the DP, we’re also looking for a Producer to come on board and handle logistics while I focus on the creative and I’m looking to work with a Storyboard Artist as soon as possible to start getting my visual ideas down on paper, since I can’t draw for toffee. If you think you might suit any of these posts, go to the website for more information and get in touch.

Don’t forget, you can still come on board as a Co-Producer or Associate Producer without having to do any work at all – to claim your credit, click here.

Since my transplant life has taken on a whole new slant. For the most part this is absolutely, 100% undeniably awesome – being able to do the things I want to do, not having to worry about all the rubbish that went with the battle against CF. But every now and again something hits you with a bump, or a thud, or a massive hammer-blow to the head.

I got a phone call from a friend’s husband this morning saying he’d just been off the phone with the mother of a friend of mine from years back. She had CF and we used to chat a lot about all sorts of things – frequently how rubbish CF was – and make each other laugh and work through things when we needed some support. Sadly, she passed away this morning.

There’s such a complex mix of emotions post-transplant. On the one hand, I’m so deeply saddened that another young life has been lost to a disease which needn’t take people away from us. On the other hand, I’m so deeply grateful to my donor and their family for giving me the chance to retake control of my life and battle on to achieve what I want to achieve. It’s both deeply upsetting and hugely motivating when you hear of someone losing their fight.

Just last week I was in Oxford for my annual review with the CF team. It’s really a bit of a formality, as the CF no longer affects my lungs, but it’s still important for them to keep an eye on the other parts of my body CF can affect. It was such a great day though, epitomised by one little moment.

As the physio was doing my general assessment, including posture and other things, she had to listen to my chest. I’ve known my physio for a long time – over 10 years I’ve been going to the same clinic with the same physio now – and as time passes and you go through phases of ill-health, better health, dreadful health and have the kind of scares I went through, physios are the people you naturally seem to turn to. Most PWCF will tell you that their physio is the person they confide in the most, more often than not because they are the member of your medical team you spend the most time with due to the frequent rounds of physiotherapy needed to keep the chest at some vague approximation of a functioning level.

So my physio is doing her assessment and I lift my shirt for her to listen to my chest. I used to know I was ill when the physio or doc would listen to my chest and pause the stethoscope in any one place for longer than a single breath. As she listened to my chest, she paused in one particular area and a dread went up me, until I glanced down and saw a smile creeping over her face as she listened to my now-soundless chest.

For years all anyone had been able to hear on my chest was the crackly static of blocked and infected lungs, now there’s nothing. And as she listened, my physio couldn’t hide her big, beaming smile at the fact that there’s nothing for her to do on my chest any more.

I’m enjoying a life I never thought I would or could, thanks to the generosity of one family, but the price I have to pay for the extension I’ve been given is seeing people who could so easily be like me losing their fight.

This is why I work with these guys and this is why I’m making Remembrance – if they’re not here to reach their dreams, I damn sure better make an effort to fulfill mine. If you want to buy in to my dream, go here to find out more.

I know you’re not supposed to hibernate in the summer, but my excuse is that it’s been rainy and horrible once we had a short spell of loveliness. Still, apologies for the silence last week – I had a few issues I needed to sort out before I could devote myself to getting on with Remembrance and pushing forward.

I’m going to be continuing the break-down of the screenplay and the budgeting this week, and will shortly be on the lookout for the initial members of my crew, more on which later in the week.

For now, I’ve just sent off a couple of proposals to people who may be interested in getting involved in one way or another, so we’ll wait to see what comes of those.

No more hibernation, I promise.

This is my second post-transplant birthday and I’m delighted to say that the novelty really hasn’t worn off. This time last year I was celebrating a birthday I never expected to see just weeks after mourning the loss of a friend whose transplant didn’t come in time.

This year is no less emotional, having been part of the Team Ethan fundraiser last weekend and remembering that I’m only here thanks to the generosity of my donor and their family. But it’s also been brilliant to be surrounded by my friends and family and really enjoy a day of doing nothing but what I wanted to.

I’ve been so overwhelmed by all the messages of support on Facebook and texts and phone calls from people. I really didn’t expect so many people to get in touch – it’s all a bit of a shock, if I’m honest, although K thinks I’m silly for being surprised. I suppose I simply had no idea that so many people were watching out for me and keeping tabs to make sure I’m doing OK.

It’s also really given me the kick up the proverbial to get myself into gear. Last week was a really hard week and I lost my focus a little, hence the delay in announcement of the Big Secret Project. But having had a weekend to look at the bigger picture, I’ve realised that this is 100% what I need to do with myself right now. And if I can’t do it with the MASSIVE team of supporters I’ve clearly got behind me right now then, quite frankly, I’m never going to be able to do it.

So from tomorrow it’s onwards and upwards – the project is a GO and will be announced right here and on the TinyButMighty website within the next 48 hours. So come back soon!

I will update the rest of the blog at some point in the near future, but today has been too good to pass up the chance of blogging about it immediately.

As I’ve rather cryptically mentioned over the last couple of weeks I started writing a project that I’m really keen on. Many of you will now know the name of Chris Jones, a friend of mine who set out in 2007 to make an Oscar-winning short film. Many scoffed, but all were eating humble pie when he was short-listed down to the final 7. Now, that short (Gone Fishing, buy it here, it’s awesome) has landed Chris with all sorts of meetings and potential jobs as well as a top-flight manager Stateside.

Never one to re-invent the wheel when others have ploughed the furrow previously (nor, clearly, afraid to mix a metaphor), I thought I’d see if I could write something that might hit the same kind of notes and be the same kind of showcase as Gone Fishing has been for Chris.

So I started writing one night and came up with a story I liked. I sent it to my brother to look at and he liked it. More than that, he sent me 2 pages of notes to bring it up to scratch and then today we’ve spent the afternoon working through the script and really ironing out the detail of some very heavy military sequences.

What I have now is the first official draft of what I believe could become my calling card to the industry. *EGO ALERT, please look away now* I’ve known for a long time that I have the talent to succeed in this business, but I’ve never quite worked out how to convince other people of what I know I can do myself.*EGO OVER* This is it. This is the script that can change everything for me – I 100% believe that.

More than that, my brother likes it so much he’s putting the wheels into motion to get me the kind of support I could only dream of to help get this made. I can’t go into detail here as it’s in way to early a stage, but mark my words – keep your eyes out for Remembrance. It’s going to rock your socks.

Things keep getting better and better at the moment – I love my life!

Today I was back in the director’s chair for the first time in…well…a long time. And I’ve got to tell you – it’s a fantastic feeling.

I’ve spent a lot of time recently wondering if I really am following the path I want to follow – I’ve been out of the loop so long and become so distant from the dreams I used to have that I find myself wondering if I’ve changed since my transplant and if I’m chasing the dreams of the old me.

I can say with absolute certainty today that I am 100% on the road I want to be on. As I stood in the rehearsal room running through the Snippets scene for the MKT writers’ group showcase on Monday night, working, re-working, talking to the actors, polishing and finessing the piece I was in my element. All of the feelings that rumbled away within me about what I like doing, where my strengths lie, how I approach things came flooding back to me in the briefest of two-hour rehearsals.

I want more than ever to follow my dreams and to chase them down until I catch them at a run. I promised myself before my transplant when I was sitting at home on my sofa day-in, day-out that I would never let myself have just “a job” and that I’d always do something I love and am passionate about. I feel more strongly about that now than ever. Watch out world – here I come!