Post by wallflower on Jul 31, 2010 19:19:22 GMT -5
OLIVE MASON
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→ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ←You may know me as Violet Moon from It's All In Yer Mind, but soon you're gonna know me for my charries. Olive is pretty damn awesome! In fact, she's the CATS pajamas! I've been doing this for one out of the sixteen years I've been on the planet. If you need to get a hold of me, just drop me a line.
→ FULL NAME Olive Mason.
→ AGE Twenty four years.
→ GENDER Female.
→ SPECIES Human.
→ BLOOD TYPE O-
→ OCCUPATION Photo journalist.
→ HAIR Platinum blonde, short and wild.
→ EYES Blue.
→ STATS Five foot, five inches. One hundred and thirty pounds.
→ BODY tall, thin, lanky, buff, what? include skin tone. should be at least two sentences.
→ WARDROBE Alternative. Generally ambles around charity or vintage shops to find the clothes she wears. She loves to re-create current fashions with the old. She looks at iconic women for influences such as Audrey Hepburn. Olive always chooses to wear dresses, despite weather predictions.
→ LIKES
- photography
- smoking cigarettes
- the transition of fashion over the past century
- collecting various types of cameras
- buying everything in twos
- re-inventing modern clothes
→ DISLIKES
- pretentious art students
- moronic bystanders
- not having the materials to create art
- the lack of personal space
- television altogether
- cooking
→ STRENGTHS
- photographic memory
- gathering useless facts
- haggling with society
- offering peace, but not always achieving it
→ WEAKNESSES
- lack of awareness
- depleted sense of humour
- unable keep track of time
- easily influenced
→ SKILLS
- running far distances
- blocking out surroundings, focusing on one thing
→ FEARS
- not being her own person.
- losing the passion for photography.
→ FULL PERSONALITY Olive, as a young girl, always used to travel to various places by train. She always used to see the world through the frame of a train window. She suspects that this has led to her passion in photography. She also has an obsession with collecting, and never discarding. For example, she always buys two magazines; one to cut up and create collages with, the other as the pristine edition.
College brought to her the hatred toward pretentious art students. She chooses to remove herself from these art cliques, especially seeing as though she prefers her own company it suits her nicely. Loving to amble around streets, with at least two cameras, Olive hates imperfections. Especially the occasional nuisance of a person; who either feels the need to make some remark about what she is doing or ruins the 'perfect' shot. The hatred of cooking formed over the years of eating her mother's food. Which was simply god damned awful.
Olive blames her mother for being able to hoard together disadvantageous facts, simply because Sandra used to supply them unknowingly regularly. On her single trip to Beijing, China, Olive discovered she had the knack for haggling. Which came into further use for future trips to the famous Camden Market in London.
Lack of awareness was not always one of Olive's flaws but actually developed it through photography. When looking through the lens of a camera, always loses herself to the image and not at all aware of the surroundings. Her own weakness- to be easily influenced- scares her the most. She hates the fact that she isn''t and never will be her own person. The truth is she is all of the people she has met, idolised and known have all been shoved together to create a mish-mash called Olive Mason.
→ MOTHER Sandra Mason – Forty-three years old – Human – Deceased.
→ FATHER Edgar Bramson – Seventy years old – Were-swan – Alive.
→ BIRTHPLACE Isle of Wight, England.
→ BIRTHDAY Twenty-ninth of October, 1986
→ FULL HISTORY Let me tell you a little about Olive's pre-history. It all started when her mother, Sandra, decided to take a break from the ever increasingly dull England. I may point out that Olive's existence is probably due to the the events and timings of both her parents. In 1986 Edgar had just been released from a mental institute. Sandra, who was stubbornly holding onto the 60's and 70's, refusing to forgo into the free fall of society's ways, was drawn to Edgar's eccentricity. They were together for a short while before she left to return to her homeland. On arriving back, Sandra discovered that she was pregnant. After ascertaining this verifiable truth she attempted to contact Edgar, however this plan failed since Edgar had already abandoned New York.
Olive was born in the sparsely populated island taken by the name of Isle of Wight. She grew up in a happy enough environment. Her mother thoughtlessly tossed a disposable camera in Olive's way one day. This was the evolutionary beginning to her keen interest in photography. Eventually, the circumstances she had found herself in ended up moulding her as a person. As a teenager her flamboyancy, obtained from Edgar, was frowned upon. But Olive's stubbornness avoided any change within. This was probably where she developed the love of personal space, individuality and the slow, seething hatred toward society.
After one long, tiresome trip to London in the mid-nineties, Sandra led Olive quietly to the Tate Britain Gallery. Whilst admiring all the old masters of art she stumbled across a collection of work by one Edgar Bramson. Throughout her life, Olive had the opportunity to contact her father by letter but never chose to pursue it simply because she decided she didn't need a father. The only contact she ever had was through his art and literature.
Olive moved to Chester to attend the university there and study photography. Soon, after accustoming to the change of scenery and people, she was told that her mother had committed suicide perhaps after a string of unsuccessful relationships and now the absence of her only child. Although this tragedy would be some sort of shock to any human system it was not to Olive's. She carried on with her university degree, finished it and passed. Now the 'world was hers' as her mother always used to remind her.
After much thought, she decided to get even closer to her father without any actual contact. So she made plans for a trip to New York.
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Her small, little hands picked up the possible indestructible piece of plastic. Lifting it to her face, a replica of the real world evolved in the tiny, square piece of glass. 'What is this seemingly magical object?' you may ask. This, this is Olive's chain reaction, her epicentre, her meaning. It is the very bare beginnings to a completely new universe. This simpleton of an object created a new appetite and a pure hunger for Olive. It is a disposable camera.
Struggling, desperately to open the front door of the flat Olive drags her life possessions behind her. The most important things are packed, untidily I must add. Standing on the top steps she inhales deeply, glad for the refreshing air of Chester. Slamming the door and remembering to post the keys back into the letter box she was glad to be leaving, a good riddance to that flat she decides and storms away. Thundering towards her small, loyal car she remembers various points in her life.
After the discovery of cameras and photography Olive decided to pursue feeding this hunger to want to know more. She becomes ever so slightly nostalgic at the memory of her as a young teenager holding a dslr at arms length, starved of knowledge. Complete confusion overwhelmed her as the words aperture, f number and shutter were all hurled at her.
Getting to Chester university was like inhaling the first breath of air, it was refreshing to actually be taught anything of some use. She wasn't confined to the restrictions college set, so she really managed to push her own boundaries.
Olive took one last look at the all too familiar street; the neighbouring rusty Volkswagen, the concrete, copy-cat houses and the road full of lethal potholes. It was time for change. Time for the Big Apple, for New York.
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