t-a-lia

LOVE Cats LOVE
A SHORT BIO
November 15, 1995 has always been a significant date to me for more reasons than one, but we'll come to that somewhere along the track. I was of the naive age nine with my two brothers, my sister, my mother and her significant other by my side as we stepped foot on the island of Tasmania, Australia.Many questions had fomented within my curious mind....
Did kangaroos really jump around in the neighbour's backyard? Did all Australians sound and act the same? What did a "great" Australian meat pie taste like? Only a few great facts were pointed out to us by my mother about our long lost home, Tasmania. For my mother it was the cleanest air and the sad gladness of returning to her three story home she had helped piece together years earlier. She was finally at ease now. She had at last fled from the polluted confines of California as her family beckoned her long awaited return. This was her relief, her sanctuary of peace.
I still remember the first day of elementary school, the Caucasian faces surrounding me as I immediately felt I fit into place. Was this where I belonged? What did it mean to be "mates"? Or put "rubbish" into the bin? Was the phrase "ta" an abbreviation for Talia? These strange sounding vowels and chatter of children with their foreign language soon became second nature to me upon my entry into high school. A place where often I dreamed the days away, and ran into the safe confines of the heavy shoulders of trees where I could sit reading and wishing my father heard my desperate plea to rescue me from the evil of the shallow laughs behind locker-slamming corridors.
I was never more alone.
Although music class offered me a tiny room to express my pain through my newly found friends, a cd player and pen, drama seemed to be the most intriguing of all mundane lessons.
It was the greatest form of expression for me, and felt I could be my true self when no one was looking an overwhelming eagerness built up inside me before each class.
I knew this was the only thing I could endeavor to succeed in, not only for the undeniable love I felt towards the craft, but with the knowledge that nothing else could possibly compete with the motivation I felt for this emotional outlet.
Leaving the steps of high school was never so liberating as the real world opened up. When college started I was living independently, unafraid of the future and what it held. I was never happier with uniform gone and my new found glory. I made quite an impression on fellow students with a new demeanor and state of mind. I soon discovered myself in another human of light who seemed to be an extension of myself and I only cared for him and his every waking thought.
After many attempts at landing lead roles in school musicals, I finally landed the leading lady role of Ariel in the college production of "Footloose" where I starred alongside my now wretched young lover. It was then I seemed to soar over everything and nothing could surpass my jubilant successful life!
Yet, it wasn't before long I found myself sitting alone with a question mark hovering above me once again.
I now had an overwhelming desire to travel which I did, only to become frigid and finally returned to climate changing Tasmania.
While this had all occurred, my mother found time to remarry three times only to find herself unmarried and found herself in a lot more trouble and intrigue with society and the law. She had become eccentrically known for digging into Australia's dumpsters. Now known nationally as the dumpster diving diva, she appeared many times on significant news programs and newspapers and still she was relentless in helping the needy while supporting her family of four from the local supermarkets throw-aways. She was not one to sit back and watch the waste "go to waste" and she gave back to others for a small donation for her efforts. Somewhere down the line the town had circulated jokes unbeknownst to my mother.
Yet as my sister and I sat back in our shared apartment, practically next door to our college with fine friends of an acquired taste, had never thought twice about trying this adrenalin pumping activity of dumpster diving - we soon found ourselves "breaking the dumpster law", alongside other friends and my sister and I saved pennies for school and for the sake of benevolence contributed to others in need. NOT TO MENTION popped lots of bubble wrap!
Thus I had discovered an escape from my suppressed emotions through Theatre Performance and the endless creative possibilities that Photography offered. Through uninhibited intelligent conversation with others, I finally reached a stage in which I started to come into my own and realize I needed to start making life changing decisions, to map out my uncertain future. Regardless of any astronomical obstacles standing in my way, I decided it was time to make it back to the forgotten land of America to perhaps rediscover my childhood and speak with my estranged father. TWELVE YEARS PASSED Many forlorn farewells later here I am Awaiting some magic, some change in direction, some truth among the spreading of lies to recapture the meaning the sense behind this existence.I'LL LET THE PHOTOGRAPHS DO THE TALKING.. .. ..
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