Laura first discovered the lump in her armpit on Boxing Day. It presented itself as a grotesque Christmas gift - a day late and completely unwanted. Unlike the ugly sweaters that haunted my childhood, this golf ball sized lump couldn't simply be returned to Eaton's. Somewhere underneath the paralysis of fear and sadness, we knew that our lives were forever changed.
And changed we were. When we learned Laura had been diagnosed with stage IV Her2 positive breast cancer, our identities shifted. Laura took leave from teaching secondary school and from her nearly completed Ph.D. A performing artist without the means to support the family, I abandoned most of my creative projects and began exploring new career options. Our toddler son cried to be suddenly weaned and our four-year-old daughter had to re-imagine beautiful as bald. The first six months after her diagnosis, our family hunkered down and spent most of our time dedicated to fighting Laura's cancer and hoping she would heal.
During chemotherapy and in the weeks leading up to her lumpectomy, Laura and I enjoyed more time alone together than we had in ages. The demands of Laura's job, her studies and our children had taken precedent over our relationship. Even though cancer treatment became a full time job for us, we had a lot of fun, laughing, taking long walks together and going on cancer dates to Princess Margaret Hospital. This time together was a bittersweet gift. Laura and I had never been closer.
Time together wasn't the only 'gift' we received. Family, friends, coworkers and acquaintances rallied to assist us with meals, childcare and the costs of treatment. By listening to our hopes, fears and the many details Laura’s battles our family and friends gave us a gift of love and closeness that we hadn’t known to be possible. Through all this I've experienced a humility and graciousness that were previously foreign to me. This new found humility and grace have made me a much more generous and patient person.
Perhaps the greatest gift we’ve received on this cancer journey arrived during Laura’s post-operative follow up appointment in late August: “The tissues extracted demonstrate a complete response to chemotherapy. You currently have no evidence of disease.” I wept at the news. Finally, it’s over. Sure Laura still had to endure a month of radiation treatments, but as far as I was concerned we were on our way ‘out of the woods’.
A year had passed. On Boxing Day - Laura’s cancerversary - life was beginning to feel normal for us again. Laura was cancer free and the kids had spent a great deal of time working with child life specialist Morgan Livingston - funded by Rethink Breast Cancer and they too had mostly moved on. Laura however had not. Morgan told Laura about a program for families run by Rethink Breast Cancer called Support Saturdays and suggested that we might benefit from it as a family. Initially I bristled at the idea. Our family was fine, we had a great weekend routine - going to swimming lessons then hanging out with friends and their kids at the local community centre. We didn’t need any more help. We needed normal - or so I thought. Laura persisted. I’m grateful she did. During the weekly sessions Laura was a part of a group of women with young families for whom breast cancer rudely presented itself in the prime of their lives.
At Support Saturdays, Laura finally found comfort in the companionship of others who shared the same experiences, challenges, losses and fears. For me this was a godsend. I can’t even begin to explain how difficult it is to support your dearest love through her cancer journey. My job was to hold space for Laura, to relate to her while at the same time experiencing terror, sadness, loss and vulnerability myself. Support Saturdays helped ease this burden. Despite my initial resistance, it was a great gift.
As a parent with two young children I witnessed another wonderful present. Luella - our now five-year-old daughter - could play with other children her own age with moms that were sick, who had lost all of their hair, and who at times were tired and afraid. This helped normalize our post-cancer lives for her. She felt safe and her behaviour became less moody and erratic at home.
The gift that Support Saturdays gave to me was time for a coffee, and some dudes to talk with one minute about surfing, the next about fear, loss or just how damn hard it is to sit and watch your wife suffer and not be able to do a thing about it. At Support Saturdays I felt visible and profoundly understood. It was a humbling and empowering experience for me. I’m grateful that Rethink Breast Cancer and all its generous supporters provided our family with such a gift.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
As serious as a child's game
We recently moved. I've had the pleasure in that time of sifting
through many old things and purging our home of many more. One evening
my relentless purging was stalled. I came across my old journals.
Written between the ages of 18 and about 30 years old they reveal a
great deal about me at the time. Sure they are chock full of self pity,
heart break sorrow, lust, desire, rage and more than a little drunken
rambling nonsense. At the same time these almost illegible scribblings
have some recurring themes. For the most part, during that time, I
wanted one thing only - to be funny. I wanted it so much. More than
that however I wanted to be funny in a special, select way. I wanted to
be a clown. "Clowns eat actors for lunch" yada yada yada. I didn't
know what any of this meant. I just knew that people laughed at me, I
liked to hold the world to ridicule and that I should be a clown.
I have always been taught that when you want something, you go for it. Work your ass off, push and squeak like a rusted wheel until you get the grease, so that's what I did. After studying 'serious' Barba based physical theatre under Richard Fowler and Primus With a scholarship from The Dell Arte International School of Physical Theatre I went off to Blue Lake California to find my clown. Highlights include studied mime with Daniel Stein, melodrama with Michael Fields, clown with Ronlin Foreman and mask-making and tango with Bruce Marrs. The true shining lights at Dell Arte however were not the instructors - it was my classmates and friends like Shannan Calcutt, Jonathan Taylor, Anthony Courser, Mark Dawson, Scott Florence and of course the majestic Bird McCracken.
Post Dell Arte, my will to be a clown led me to Toronto where I studied more clowning with Mike Kennard. Here I also spent a bunch of time practicing yoga, taking classes, touring various shows including a job as a clown on a boat run by a madman all while creating piles of work. Despite my best efforts, I was never funny enough, never a clown enough. I really couldn't quite 'get it'. Finally in the summer of 2002 I went back to Halifax to take a workshop with Philippe Gaulier.
With Philippe, my 'will' caught up with me. He would say: "We do not see your pleasure to be a top idiot on the stage. We see your will. Your desire to be funny. It is a pain in the ass. Goodbye." Pleasure to Philippe is paramount - "Pleasure is the king of my school". This approach was a shocking revelation to me. Philippe told me: "When you try to do the exercise correctly, you are fucking boring - like a bureaucrat in Ottawa, but when you do not give a shit, have pleasure to be an anarchist, we love you". The paradox: I found my clown when I stopped trying.
With Philippe, I found more than just my clown. I found an approach to acting that I was looking for for years and with it a philosophy that hit me on so many levels and connected many thoughts I've had about performance, but was never able to articulate properly. I set out and studied with him a second time - this time at his school in Paris. This visit was much like Luke's return to the Degobah swamp in Jedi. I had what I needed from Philippe. My work now was simply to have fun performing as often as possible. Touring performances for young audiences has given me this opportunity. Performing in school gymnasiums gives me a constant reminder whether I'm doing my job or not.
"With a good actor, their pleasure guides them. It illuminates their face like a child playing".
I have always been taught that when you want something, you go for it. Work your ass off, push and squeak like a rusted wheel until you get the grease, so that's what I did. After studying 'serious' Barba based physical theatre under Richard Fowler and Primus With a scholarship from The Dell Arte International School of Physical Theatre I went off to Blue Lake California to find my clown. Highlights include studied mime with Daniel Stein, melodrama with Michael Fields, clown with Ronlin Foreman and mask-making and tango with Bruce Marrs. The true shining lights at Dell Arte however were not the instructors - it was my classmates and friends like Shannan Calcutt, Jonathan Taylor, Anthony Courser, Mark Dawson, Scott Florence and of course the majestic Bird McCracken.
Post Dell Arte, my will to be a clown led me to Toronto where I studied more clowning with Mike Kennard. Here I also spent a bunch of time practicing yoga, taking classes, touring various shows including a job as a clown on a boat run by a madman all while creating piles of work. Despite my best efforts, I was never funny enough, never a clown enough. I really couldn't quite 'get it'. Finally in the summer of 2002 I went back to Halifax to take a workshop with Philippe Gaulier.
With Philippe, my 'will' caught up with me. He would say: "We do not see your pleasure to be a top idiot on the stage. We see your will. Your desire to be funny. It is a pain in the ass. Goodbye." Pleasure to Philippe is paramount - "Pleasure is the king of my school". This approach was a shocking revelation to me. Philippe told me: "When you try to do the exercise correctly, you are fucking boring - like a bureaucrat in Ottawa, but when you do not give a shit, have pleasure to be an anarchist, we love you". The paradox: I found my clown when I stopped trying.
With Philippe, I found more than just my clown. I found an approach to acting that I was looking for for years and with it a philosophy that hit me on so many levels and connected many thoughts I've had about performance, but was never able to articulate properly. I set out and studied with him a second time - this time at his school in Paris. This visit was much like Luke's return to the Degobah swamp in Jedi. I had what I needed from Philippe. My work now was simply to have fun performing as often as possible. Touring performances for young audiences has given me this opportunity. Performing in school gymnasiums gives me a constant reminder whether I'm doing my job or not.
"With a good actor, their pleasure guides them. It illuminates their face like a child playing".
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Ontario Contact Touring Workshop
Having a great performance isn’t enough. It needs to sell. To sell a
show to lots of folks at once, showcasing is the best route. On two
occasions I’ve showcased Loki's Big Dream and have somehow missed the mark. So far, selling
my own work has been quite difficult for me. When I received a message
about a fantastic workshop from Cheryl Ewing
of Ontario Contact that was designed to help artists tour beyond their
region, I jumped at the opportunity to address my marketing weakness.
The workshop was conducted by a panel which included Susan Habkirk, Andrew Kwan, Lynn Bailey and Cheryl. It was really informative.
On Monday night we discussed marketing, materials and the ins and outs of applying for and presenting at a showcase for touring performers. On Tuesday morning I had the opportunity to present a ‘mock showcase’ or practice audition of Loki’s Big Dream to the panel then have them provide feedback on how to improve the showcase performance.
This workshop was invaluable. In addition to making movers and shakers in the world of the touring artist both more approachable and available, these panelists shared their fantastic depth of experience. I realized very quickly during the feedback session that I really had no idea who the people are that I’m marketing to and what aspect of my show would excite these folks enough to book me. They listened, encouraged and worked creatively with me to come up with what aspect(s) of Loki’s Big Dream I should focus on for a showcase performance.
I left the Registry Theatre in Kitchener (where the workshop was held) feeling inspired, empowered and deeply grateful. Thanks guys! See you soon.
Jim
On Monday night we discussed marketing, materials and the ins and outs of applying for and presenting at a showcase for touring performers. On Tuesday morning I had the opportunity to present a ‘mock showcase’ or practice audition of Loki’s Big Dream to the panel then have them provide feedback on how to improve the showcase performance.
This workshop was invaluable. In addition to making movers and shakers in the world of the touring artist both more approachable and available, these panelists shared their fantastic depth of experience. I realized very quickly during the feedback session that I really had no idea who the people are that I’m marketing to and what aspect of my show would excite these folks enough to book me. They listened, encouraged and worked creatively with me to come up with what aspect(s) of Loki’s Big Dream I should focus on for a showcase performance.
I left the Registry Theatre in Kitchener (where the workshop was held) feeling inspired, empowered and deeply grateful. Thanks guys! See you soon.
Jim
Artists in the Schools
Here is a great video with the amazing Bill Irwin talking about his experiences as an artist working in schools. I've been working as an artist in the schools for 8 years and can echo basically everything he says here as it sums up my experiences and beliefs as well.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
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