I ran away from home when I was 15. I didn’t want to go to
school, and was really attracted to anything that seemed fun
and dangerous. There was a group of older kids who would
burgle shops and sell the stuff they stole, spending the money
on drugs and partying, and I got in with them. That snowballed
- I started getting in trouble with the police and putting a lot of
pressure on my family. I was arrested and had to go to court,
and I remember that being the moment when me and one of the
other kids were like, “We have to get away.” We ran away together,
and befriended a couple of the younger homeless people around.
As a young teenager, that was really fun – we’d drink beer all
day and smoke weed, just hanging out. It wasn’t like what you’d
imagine homelessness to be. But then the autumn started coming
on, and people who had somewhere to go started disappearing.
From there, it was a really steady descent into heavy drug usage.
During that time, I was approached by a woman with this wild head
of hair from Select Model Management. I remember her kneeling
down and asking me who I was, why I was there and why I had no
home. She could clearly see that I was suffering a lot, and she
gave me a card and said, “Once you sort yourself out, come see
us.” Eventually, I managed to get off the streets. It made me want
to do something with my life, but I didn’t quite know what. I didn’t
know a woman could be a filmmaker or artist. You could go and
work on an airplane serving food or work in a bar or shop – that
was the sphere of what I felt I could do.
I wanted to go back to school, but none of the colleges would take
me because I didn’t have any education. Someone told me to apply
for an art school because you don’t need GCSE qualifications for
that – it’s based on talent alone – and it pricked something in my
head, because I’d always been really good at drawing. I got a place
and a bursary for an art school. I only managed to stay for a year,
because I relapsed and found out I was pregnant, but it made
me realise how much I enjoyed creating. I’d done a short course
in photography there, and I felt like an adventurer going out to
capture something. It was very romantic and something I really
loved, so that was when I decided I wanted to try and learn more
about photography.
After I had my daughter, I was scouted to model again. Within six
months I was going to New York, and it blew my mind because it
was a world I’d never dreamed existed – being bought champagne
in fancy bars and having my make-up done by amazing artists.
The money wasn’t great, but it was enough to be able to buy a pram
for my baby and rent a flat. After about a year-and-a-half, I started
getting an eating disorder and ended up relapsing back on drugs;
that’s when I realised I wasn’t emotionally fulfilled. I knew if I
carried on in that industry it wouldn’t be good for my mental
health, so I decided to really throw myself into photography.
I started working in a pub in East London, and this band called
Unkle came in one day. I was like, “Oh, you’re in the recording
studio across the road. Can I come take some pictures?” It was
really good to see artists working and making and creating.
They asked if I wanted to go on tour with them, so from there
I started getting paid to make something, which was incredible.
I went across America, photographing and filming them, making
little tour videos. I started watching people’s personalities and
realised I wanted to explore film, if I could capture the reallorna tucker went from
being homeless to an
accomplished filmmaker.
AS TOLD TO GISELLE AU-NHIEN NGUYENeverybody
has a story
pieces of me