Brooke Patricia Photoshoot

“I’M FIRST AND FOREMOST A STORYTELLER.

WHETHER I’M ACTING OR WRITING,

I’M ALWAYS TELLING SOMEONE ELSE’S STORY.

HERE YOU’LL ALSO FIND MY OWN.”

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STORY

I’m so happily and gratefully in love with penning and performing stories. In fact, I believe that a good show starts with a good script. 

 

I still have my first printing book. The core characters emerge as shakily formed and at times unreadable vowels. Eventually, they evolve into words that culminate in meaning. Abundant foxes leap spectacularly over dogs. The end.

Well, not quite. There’s a bit of an epilogue. I went on to become the first person in my primary school to nab my pen license. Left-handed. 

My keen interest in the page has always matched my passion for the stage and, later, the screen. I made my acting debut in a school nativity play at the age of six. It was so profound that my name got left off of the programme, which like my first printing book I still have. 

But my powerful sixth sense told me to keep going. I started combining my creative endeavours and staging one woman shows in the living room. They too were attended by one woman – my Mum.

These days I’m still doing what I love. Now I’m lucky enough to call it my career. 

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PORTFOLIO

Brooke Patricia Photoshoot
Brooke Patricia Photoshoot
Brooke Patricia Photoshoot
Brooke Patricia Photoshoot

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SHOWREEL

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THE JEGGINGS SISTERHOOD

In 2018, a few of my closest girlfriends and I started a private online group chat. My birthplace of Palmerston North, New Zealand, essentially brought us all together. Our collective bond formed at university there. We worked and played hard in pursuit of our dreams, which have since taken us all over the world. 

Our group chat binds us despite our ever growing air mileage. It originated under the name Everything Is Awesome, as we entered into a brand new year. Only, it proved to be anything but. My Mum – my lifeblood and my best friend – passed away. She and I had a special saying: I love you more than anything in the whole wide world. Before I winged to the other side of it for the first time, we exchanged silver heart shaped lockets to mark this. 

Although Mum’s heart doesn’t beat anymore, the locket I gave her will forever live on it. On the rare occasions when I can’t wear the one she gave me, it lives in a velvet purse that was a gift from a dear friend after we both found ourselves motherless within six months. It depicts a penguin navigating rough terrain in a star studded coat, a bit of bling, and a polka dot scarf in my favourite colour of vintage pink. The penguin’s special style bears a striking resemblance to that of my friend who gave the purse to me. She’s never fully dressed without a smile. 

Despite the penguin’s little legs and harsh surrounds beyond its control, it treks forward, one webbed foot after another. It doesn’t stay stagnant, where it could be snowed in, or under. 

I see myself in the penguin. Mum was my proverbial left leg, despite not being able to use her own legs towards the end of her life on Earth. So losing her was like learning how to walk again. But this time I didn’t have her physical strength to pull my toddler self up from the safety of a spongy, smooth surface, after falling spectacularly on my nappy clad bum. Instead I had to find my grown up feet by pulling up my big girl pants – my jeggings.

All of the other girls in the aforementioned group chat hit their own rough terrain last year. Everything was far from awesome. One day we were talking about the film The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants. It follows the adventures of a group of good girlfriends who share a pair of jeans that miraculously fit – and flatter – them all, then appear to work further miracles on the wearer’s life. We’re always grateful for all that’s good in our own lives, but agreed that we could do with a little bit of their luck. Only, our legs traverse the real world, and at such a rapid pace that air mail would probably see the same pair of pants perpetually in transit. Lucky seven seas. Plus we were never going to fit the same jeans. In fact, at the rate we were going, we were more likely to publicly split them if we tried. 

So we went in search of the perfect jeggings instead – a pair for each of us. Postie Plus took the cake, and also takes a milestone one this year as it celebrates its 110th Birthday. That’s a letter from the Queen in a tough market, so we believe we’ve shopped at the right place. 

We’ve now renamed ourselves The Jeggings Sisterhood. Our beloved Postie jeggings symbolise our big girl pants – our growth. Living a life that is abundant in all areas forms the basis of this blog. I’m not here to talk at or through you, but rather with you. I’m a life embracer, not expert. I am also a storyteller. So here I will endeavour to tell the one story only I can, and that’s my own. My hope is that you will gain something from it for your own personal journey, as I navigate every territory from thin ice, just like the penguin, to red carpets.

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