Five Minutes Till Noon - An Update

As my readers may or may not recall, last year I did a crazy, impulsive thing and joined a team for the 48 Hour Film Project, as the art director and wardrobe co-ordinator. That was a ride in itself, pure craziness.

Then we had the city awards, where our film, Five Minutes Till Noon, kind of swept the board, taking home over ten different awards if I'm not mistaken, including Best Film for the city, as well as best Production Design (the awful trophy is still standing proudly on my bookshelf. As much as I dislike trophies, this one has a special place in my heart).

Then came the long wait for March 9th, the international 48hfp awards ceremony in New Orleans, where grand prizes for the 2013 tour would be announced, and our film, being a city winner, was up for awards too.

At some point the whole saga kind of slipped my mind. So imagine my surprise, confusion and delight waking up to this Whatsapp conversation yesterday morning at some ungodly hour:

Gran: Were you not in charge of costume and art design in the 48 hours till noon?
Me: Yep that was me, why?
Me: No Gran, it was Five Minutes Till Noon, not 48 Hours Till Noon
Gran: But Jess that is fantastic!
Me: What now, you've known about it since last year?
Gran: You must know you won
Me: Yes but we won last October
Gran: At the international, in New Orleans
Me: The international hasn't happened yet
Gran: Look on Facebook!

So I hit the Google-machine. And Gran was right. Five Minutes Till Noon won two awards at the international awards ceremony, Best Art Direction and Best Costumes. Both of which I was in charge of. I just, can't believe.

I remember the day I saw that Facebook post. Kyle Peters was looking for someone to take over art direction and wardrobe. I had the time and I thought I might have enough knowledge to run with it. So I responded, and straight afterwards I panicked. What the heck have I just gotten myself into? These guys are pros! I'm going to make a fool of myself! And then the prayers. Jesus, please don't let me make a fool of myself. Please let me be able to actually help this team out and no matter what happens, let this just be for your glory. 

It looks like he heard me. I seriously had so much fun doing this thing, I would do it again, awards or not. I hope though, that maybe these awards mean I get more chances to partake in similar film industry adventures. This industry needs more of the father's light in it, I'd be so honored to be one of the people who gets the job of bringing it in.

Keep the dreams alive my friends

Shar-Lee Jessica

I found a moment

Life has been so crazy busy lately. In the last two months I've moved house, started working full time, and I still have to keep up all my after hours commitments, including keeping my label afloat, getting my freelance work done and keeping my French lessons on the go, while at the same time still having time for connecting with friends and getting some reading time in.

This week I added another crazy flavor to the plate of my life, I'm taking part in the NYC Midnight short story competition. So I have seven days to write a 2500 word story in the fantasy genre, with the subject mathematics and a pro athlete as a character. It's been chaos, and I am exhausted and loving it. I'm currently about 1300 words in and trying to pace myself. Hand in is on Saturday.

I realized recently that in all the chaos I have forgotten to draw. Drawing is my lifeblood. I literally can't remember the last time I sat down with pad and ink, focused on capturing the moment around me. I'm an artist and I live and breathe the visual, creating is food for my soul. This was a shocking revelation and my fingers started itching and aching immediately.

Problem is, I just don't have the time. How do you find the time when you don't have it? So I decided to keep a sketchbook on me always, and look for tiny moments. My moment ended up being Sunday morning, in church, sitting on the floor listening to Ross do an incredible teaching on the multidimensional presence of the kingdom. Breathtaking stuff. And then I realized there was a perfect picture right in front of me, and out came the notebook. And I drew. What an amazing feeling, the release of pent up creativity. It made me so happy.

So now my pledge to myself is to keep looking for moments, to keep my creative eyes open and to make art part of my life once again. I need to, it's the air I breathe.

Shar-Lee Jessica

P.S. Keep an eye on my blog for the official release of my currently unnamed short story

many many happy days

I happened across this amazing project the other day. It's called 100 Happy Days, and the concept is this: Can you identify one happy moment, every day for a hundred days in a row? The challenge: Document your journey. Take a photo representing your happy moment every day and upload it to the web with the hashtag #100happydays. I love the idea so much that I didn't hesitate to sign up. I might even push mine to a year of happy days. Why stop at a hundred? That's the thing I guess, I love Jesus, so there should be joy every day, it's a given. Even on the really lame days.

You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. - Psalm 16:11

I'm very aware that at some point this "challenge" might actually become exactly that. And there's the point. On the toughest of days, will I still turn around and go, "No ways, my joy is complete in God!", take a photo of the nearest flower and carry on going? I hope I can. Because now everyone who reads this will be holding me to it.

So far I've had a Tuesday power out with a phone call to say I can work from home, a visit from a grumpy tortoise and a cheese grater from some special friends (because in my new kitchen I have cheese but no grater.) Today is day four. I can't wait to find out what today's moment will be, I can't wait to fall in love with life all over again. Are you joining me on the journey? Let's find the joy together!

Shar-Lee Jessica

If you're keen to see what happy moments the next ninety-six days have in store for me, here is the link to my Instagram. Send me yours so I can see your journey too!

Twenty-one Twickenham Road

This was a fun little writing project I did recently, that I'd just love to share. The brief: describe the experience of entering the place where you live, from the perspective of someone who has never been there before. For those of you who know and love 21 Twickenham as much as I do, I hope this is a special read...

Twickenham road, the name itself tastes of yesterday’s charm. Along both sides, chubby little trees giggle in the breeze and do their best to stand in single file, hands behind their backs, under the gaze of the tired old houses watching over them day and night.

At number twenty-one, a rose bush offers its manicured fingers for a handshake through the wrought iron fence, a heavy black outline on this quaint garden scene. A lavender bush greets me shyly with her perfume; nostalgia; while the lemon tree sheepishly draws her leafy curtains on those lemons she has been too lazy to yellow. A shabby path of loose bricks and rebellious weeds leads me to the front door, red and smiling between two round windows, the eyes of number twenty-one, which, as legend would have it, have not so much as blinked in over a hundred years.

The air behind that red door is cool and thick with the scent of aged wooden floors, floors which protest in loud creaks and moans as I go, for I have woken them from their dusty slumber. The furniture peers questioningly at me as I pass. I am an outsider in a carpentry village. A kaleidoscope of paintings on the walls laugh and tell me to ignore the old wooden fogies. I make my way yonder, to the heart of this little house, the kitchen, bursting at the seams with jars of cutlery, cooking utensils of every imaginable kind, and a vast family of crockery young and old vying for space on shelves and table tops too small. A happy old tap drips drops of water on his tin sink drum, this tap that refuses to ever be closed properly, for it is his job, he tells me, to keep the heart of this home beating.

Behind the next door, a bedroom. The tang of a citronella candle is a warning; tiny vampires feed here at night. A sleeping laptop purrs on the corner of the bed, crisp white and unmade. On the glass desk, an artillery of art supplies lie scattered in their bright uniform, at ease for the moment. A pale blue curtain flirts with the tired floor, teasing and tempting with the lift of her skirt in the breeze, a breeze which, if one happens to catch it at the right moment, carries the soft scent of lavender, a nostalgic scent indeed.

~Shar-Lee Jessica

you are so lovely

So Cayly from Bloom Studio is working on this amazing project called Lattes and Love, where she shares women's stories. I was lucky enough to take part, and get to talk about a bit of my story, and how school bullying played a part in it. 
I regret not going in to a bit more detail in the interview, the path I walked in trying to redeem my fragile self-esteem while battling the minefield of adolescence and growing up took me to strange places, from a name change at thirteen to getting into an abusive relationship at seventeen, and battling a vicious bout of social phobia and depression in my early twenties. 
I am one of the lucky ones though, Jesus found me, and now my identity is wrapped up in His sacrifice. I only wish every child who has to endure the emotional torment of being bullied could have the same prize at the end. 
Now, there are things I'm grateful for. On the worst days at school, books were my refuge and friend. Now I'm a writer. I'm also a multi-award-winning artist, and heaped up ridiculous amounts of cash prizes for my creative work during my studies. 
I want the privilege to be able to share my story with those awkward kids who never quite worked out the formula for fitting in. I want to tell them it's okay. You have so much ahead of you, you are so, so lovely, you are so precious. I want to tell parents, build up your children's self-worth. Bullies are broken kids caught in a vicious cycle. Kids with a strong sense of self-worth lift up other kids around them. 

We can break the cycle. I hope one day I can get my story out there. For now, I have a blog, and I have Lattes and Love. Enjoy.

https://vimeo.com/81309145

In the Bag

So in case any of my readers were wondering how we fared at the 48 Hour Film Project Awards which happened on Thursday night, I'm pleased to give you this update. We won. Yes we did. Best Film, in the bag. That means our film is going on to be shown at the New Orleans Filmapalooza festival next year where the judges selection of best films to emerge from the competition from around the globe will all be shown. From there the top ten go on to Cannes Film Festival, and the best film of 2013 is announced too. I don't want to get my hopes too high, but I feel like we have some kind of shot. Our film is breathtaking, I beam with pride every time I get to see it.

Here's a list of the awards we got to take home:
Best Picture
Best Film - Audience Choice
Best Director
Best Producer
Best Actor
Best Visual Effects
Best Editor
Best Production Design (that's me!)
Best use of given line of dialogue ("You gonna learn.")
Best use of given character (Neil Msimang - stylist)

What an honor, thanks to Jesus for giving me the opportunity to be involved in something so phenomenal. Let's all hold thumbs for a good run at Filmapalooza now.

Watch the film here: http://vimeo.com/77905389

Brittany, Chai & Reminiscence

Yesterday I had the pleasure of handing over an illustration to my beautiful friend Esther. We go back a long way, from high school shenanigans to varsity days where I had the privilege of this seeing beautiful lady model my graduate collection like a Vogue-goddess, and then to yesterday, where Esther adopted Brittany (number two of ten). What a great moment, handing over my very first reproduction sketch, and chatting about our plans, nerves, hopes and dreams for the future, the awareness of the nearness and reality of this next chapter palpable in the air around us. As she heads off to further her studies in a brand new city, I head back to my home town, to spend the first season of my life giving my art some real and focused attention. It's terrifying, but it only takes a moment like this to remind me that it's possible, and the sun is about to rise on something completely new.

Esther dear, I wish you the best for the future, and thank you for the chai and reminiscence. Breton looks good on you.