I was in grade 8. It was lunchtime. Hanging out in the classroom with my friends, I was eating my tuna and pickled onion sandwich (home made onions by my Mom) and launching into a story.

I can’t remember the story now, but I do remember suddenly noticing one of my friends completely interrupt me to talk about something. I was incensed. I stopped talking. Eventually, all of my friends noticed my silence. The girl who had interrupted told me to continue.

I refused. I dug in my heels and point blankly refused. “You weren’t listening, so I’m not going to tell you the rest.” And, I didn’t.

When I was even younger and hanging out with adults a fair bit (I was an only child) I used to ponder the magic of these big people. As I watched and listened to them, I marveled at how they could talk and listen at the same time, since their voices were often all going at once.  As a kid, I concluded that you gained an extra sense when you became an adult enabling you to listen and speak simultaneously.

Nope!

Listening. Hearing. Empathizing. Sympathizing. Understanding. Relating. Connecting.

In recent rehearsals for a play, our director would remind us to listen, really truly listen to the others. This advice was always valuable as it pushed a sort of “refresh” button. Anticipating the delivery of your lines and your fellow actors’ lines kills the life in a scene.

In performance, you must hear, and speak the text as if for the first time. If you trust your listening skills, the interpretation will then reveal fresh nuances . The result is a greatly satisfying experience for both the audience and the actor.

In real life, ineffective listening shows up chronically.

Wandering eyes, vacant looks, the chest rising with a breath that is ready to interrupt with their own thoughts that are quickly formulating in their head, or a polite nod, are all clear indicators of an unsuccessful listener. And, they never ask questions. (The good ones do the opposite!)

In business, truly listening to a potential client, and being curious about their needs will most likely be more effective than constantly “pitching” them. I know most of us get annoyed at those badly scripted phone calls from large companies trying to sell us something.

The other day I had one of those calls. At breakneck speed, a guy assumed he had what I wanted and pitched me over and over, using statements like “I want you to..” “You need this..” “I will sign you up today…”. He most certainly was not listening to me as an individual with unique needs.

I stopped him and suggested, gently, that his company should change their tactics to ask what the potential customer would actually like before they assumed they knew best! Their business would most likely improve!

Today, we communicate frequently via the social media (Facebook, twitter, etc..)  where some “interesting” listening is occurring. Some people seem to think that constantly giving people information is a “social” action.

In my mind, being social usually entails listening, conversing, and possibly mutually creating deeper value. The  successful internet socialites shine and are a great example.

What do you think?

What is your best or worst listening experience, and your best or worst “being listened to” experience? I challenge you to observe those around you, and yourself as the art of listening unfolds. I will join you in this venture… honest!

Let me know how it goes.

(Oh, and by the way… one of the most important listening skills to develop is listening to yourself, your instincts, your ideas, your dreams, your loves, your questions, and your ponderings.)

And, for your listening pleasure…..

I have been busy in the last few weeks juggling fall preparations with rehearsals for Shakespeare’s “As You Like It” directed by Neil Freeman for First Impressions Theatre at the Deep Cove Shaw Theatre in Deep Cove, British Columbia.

I’ve been mini-blogging with twitter but have neglected my homey blog and I’ve missed this place!!

Today: a wee note about the show.

First of all, I can’t think of a more beautiful place to be driving daily, hanging out and rehearsing – Deep Cove, British Columbia. Across the street, there is the best coffee place with the most amazing café made donuts by “Honey’s” (“sinful”- a fellow actor deliciously described them-especially the chocolate dipped ones).

Down the hilly street is the cozy cove with all the gentle kayaks, & canoes drifting around. On this main street, quietly tucked in, is also the Deep Cove Cultural Centre that houses an intimate 130-seat theatre and its active gallery.

Deep Cove

Deep Cove

This is where we will be opening our show this Thursday, September 10, 2009. Just two days away!

Now with a few weeks of rehearsal under my belt, I can see even more how fortunate I am to have had the opportunity to jump on board with renowned director, Neil Freeman, a super fun cast of 23 to play two small parts (but significant …of course, ;) ), and do some bouffon coaching.

Cast members embrace the bouffon process!

Cast members embrace the bouffon process!

The process has been sheer pleasure. (isn’t that what it should be? …or do we always have to suffer for our art?…that’s another blog post!)

We have been led beautifully with tight schedules that didn’t waste anyone’s time, and we were given liberty to play, to invent, to imagine all sorts of unexpected twists, turns, dances, faces, gestures, thoughts, songs and grow together as a wacky brief Shakespearean company.

Our version of “As You Like It” is set in modern times, with a few extra twists, but stays true to the “first folio” text. Shakespeare gives us great clues to how our text should be played out, and when we get out of our 21st century language habits, the text can carry all of us along nicely.

A peek from a back stage perspective

A peek from a back stage perspective

Love, the most classic, timeless subject ever is the main flavour of “As You Like It”.  The varied forms of love and the unexpected twists make this play high-spirited, & mischievous.

The set is beautifully clean with gorgeous lighting and the best looking tree ever (that’s all I’m saying!) and modern dress allows our costumer to pull from all sorts of colourful sources.

For me, I am looking forward to playing two very different characters (complete opposites!), and being part of the biggest (and coolest) team I have ever been with, and supporting our lead players who will be upholding the main energy.

We were warned that during rehearsals we were going to laugh a lot. We did but now our big wish is that YOU will too!

Come and have some frolicking fun with us from September 10 thru September 26, Wednesdays-Saturday evenings at 8pm in Deep Cove. Tickets can be purchased online or at the box office.

Remember those forts you use to build, as kids, in your living rooms, or bedrooms, or outside, using chairs, blankets, and anything that could help to create a cool cave? Worlds far from the one we were in were concocted with no agenda.

Just recently, I relived a similar experience.

Under The Piano Sound Spa” is a new and unique offering by pianist, composer and entrepreneur Craig Addy.

After a short personal conversation with Craig, he invited me to place myself under the grand piano where he would improvise for approximately 40 minutes.

Immediately I was reminded of those childhood living room forts and feeling extra safe and snug. Under the piano, regally awaiting, were shiny gold cushions matching the interior of the piano, a soft bedding of puffy brass blankets and a red velvet one to pull over you for more cozy warmth.

As I tentatively crawled under, I wondered what the protocol really was when you curl up under someone’s piano. I felt awkward but rapidly enjoyed the mysteriously secure feeling.

I closed my eyes and heard the first note, strong but not too loud, and felt the vibration. My body liked the sensation. For the first few minutes, I felt my brain drifting to the banalities of life chores but thankfully the chords would draw me back to the present.

As I permitted myself to relax, my creative juices started to flow.

The sounds transformed as Craig improvised with an awareness of my energy under his piano, producing a symphony of soft notes, thunderous notes, quiet thoughtful notes, sounds of hope, sounds of sadness and melancholy, and soothing sounds.

Images of my past and present life appeared and disappeared.

Befitting, I thought, another childhood memory rose up with Craig’s final notes. I was reminded of me dancing with abandon at age 5 or 6 in the living room of a family friend. Our friend would put all kinds of exotic music on his record player and I would sneak into the living room, my theatre, and dance while the adults visited in the kitchen.

After the session, Craig and I, in my blissfully dopey state, discussed our individual journeys. We acknowledged a musical sadness that had emerged, but also agreed that it was beautiful and not to be ignored. In a society that constantly promotes being positive we tend to hide the sombre side that also has a place in our lives. After all, isn’t good theatre made from comedy and tragedy? The lighter notes that occurred as well balanced the experience nicely.

And, I felt inspired to write!

Under The Piano, to me, is another tool to tap into our creativity and I look forward to experiencing it again. Anything that slows us adults down long enough to open up our “kid” in us, and our imagination, is magnificent.

Thank you Craig! Craig Addy’s In Tune

What a week last week was…

Death was roaming around making it’s presence more evident as it cast itself on people the masses knew. It slammed itself onto the innocent who were standing up to injustice. And it also roamed less publicly into some of my friends’ worlds.

How are you affected by these final interventions? How does it affect all of us as a whole? Are you thinking more about your own mortality?

And, what does that do?

Does it make you feel freer, more able to create and focus, or does it put you into the “deer in headlight” mode and you wonder what to do? Or, do you move into denial after the first shock?

As death creeps closer in, I find myself re-evaluating my own priorities, and examining time. How do I spend it? How do I waste it? With whom do I spend it? If I really knew the exact date of my eminent death, my “dead line”, would I do things a little differently?

In this way, I view “death” as a healthy kick in the pants.

This is not an uncommon discussion and I realize I’m being redundant, however, we humans seem to need constant reminding. We’re a bit stubborn that way.

Two years ago, I watched my close friend die and heard her last breath. A week prior when she was still lucid, she pulled me close and said, “Trilby, I feel like I still haven’t blossomed.”

She was fifty.

Her echoing words continue to propel me toward my desired work.

I listened to a CBC radio interview, last week, with a woman who had been diagnosed with an incurable disease over a year ago, and given 6 to 12 months to live. Her voice expressed, “I’m much freer now, and I know exactly where I want to spend my time.”

She wanted to spend it in her garden close to the earth where she knew she was going.

Fearless was the word she repeated about her current self. “I seemed to live in fear before, and now, nothing can scare me.”

Asked about how it felt to be dying, she answered that she was too busy living to be preoccupied with it. Interesting that she has surpassed the doctors’ predictions already.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Seize the moment. I ask myself, honestly, is my energy going where I want it to?

We’ve seen the question many times before, but I’m going to ask it again. What would you be doing if you knew you were going to die in one year?

This article is not meant to be a morbid one.

For myself, I find a liberating sensation flow through me when I think about being more deliberate with time, and priorities. Nothing like a deathly reminder to get me shifting closer to the creative projects I desire to perform.

Just what am I waiting for? How about you?

No waiting here…

When I was little, I didn’t want to grow up. The grown up world looked terribly serious and my instincts told me sub-consciously that there would be a drastic change.

One day when we were kids hanging out in the back shed lighting matches for fun (no we didn’t burn the place down), my little girlfriend told me that she couldn’t wait to get married and have kids. Wow. I thought she was nuts. I felt no rush nor desire for the same. None.

Now, gazillions of years later I know what my childhood instincts were telling me. There was going to be a lot less play in the grown up world and a lot more problems to solve. I just knew.

The other day on my walk, I watched an impish mix of  adults and kids playing soccer with abandon. It made me grin and I knew that nothing else could be on their minds. Too busy playing, they were in the elusive “now” where all the great contemporary gurus are telling us to be. (have you read Eckart Tolle’s book “The Power of Now”?) The soccer game was a perfect example.

Silly us adults frolicking for fun.. imagine!

Silly us adults frolicking for fun.. imagine!

Theatre, stage work offers this opportunity for me and I believe my journey to this world was an honest trek from childhood. I needed to keep playing. It felt like air, a serious necessity. Being a character on a stage, in a situation, with a live audience, if you are sincere with your work, will keep you divinely present.

When we get to witness, as an audience, a truly connected, compelling, and riveting performance in theatre we are privy to the players in the now. There is clarity and presence. And a strange truth.

To get to some of these great moments, I believe play is of the utmost importance. En Francais acting is called “l’art de jeu” – the art of playing. If we allow our grown up tightness to breathe and expand, we have an opportunity to experience extraordinary unexpected times.

We need to have the chance to discover and explore. I guess that is why I turned to Le Bouffon as a tool to get us all to our playful selves, and discover some gems in our work.

Bouffons in their element! Adults gone.

Bouffons in their element! Adults gone.

“It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child” Pablo Picasso

This idea of play translates beyond the theatre, musical and artistic world.

Who isn’t more productive when we have permission to laugh, or play in our working environment? A boss who reprimands employees who dare to enjoy themselves at work risks stymieing the worker and ironically losing productivity.

When I worked as a costumer in the film industry, I had a favourite designer who had a great sense of humour. We developed a wacky reputation as laughter frequently burst out of “that crazy wardrobe truck”! That laughter got us through the immense work and long grueling hours much more easily.

How is play in your grown up life? What do you do to nurture yourself in your working world? I’m curious. Do you have a situation to share where play proved to be the answer?

Despite my strong will to play, I still write to myself as much as to you, when I say that play is imperative. My bouffon students have heard me say, “I wish I could take my workshop!” as I watch them play wholeheartedly, forgetting about their adult masks, and discovering the sacred pleasure of the now. Their results? A freedom of expression that leads them to more.

I dare to wish that for everyone.

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” George Bernard Shaw

The above tweet (twitter term) came to me last night while I was having the privilege of witnessing a conversation about writing between an experienced screenwriter, and a newer one who was asking some pertinent questions. I mostly observed and then offered a couple of my thoughts.

Two things happened: one, it reminded me of how twitter can be such a valuable tool if used correctly (don’t worry… this is not a post about twitter, despite the fact I probably could ramble on for a length…), and secondly, the dialogue gave some valuable story advice.

Especially as I dive further into writing a piece for me to perform.

Last night’s discussion touched on emotion and its usefulness when creating effective scenes that will reach an audience. It reminded us to review the people for whom we’re writing, and in the possible ways they could see themselves in the story.

I was reminded of the importance of empathy, and to feel what someone is feeling, to place myself in their shoes. This is an almost impossible feat to do entirely – but one worth exploring if you are going to deliver something with substance…don’t you think?

And, speaking of feet, I wear a plastic support on my right foot as I have drop foot. The “AFO”(ankle-foot-orthoses) goes under my foot and reaches up my calf in an ugly way becoming my best friend so I can’t trip. (I draw on the plastic in the summer so it at least looks funky).

It looks like I’m digressing but it’s related, I promise.

In a rare moment, I met a man my age, the other day, who was also sporting an AFO. It was an instant empathetic moment. We understood so much without even saying anything. We knew in a flash some of the pain, discomfort, and challenges the other one had.

Empathy.

That was a direct one on one moment.

What about mass empathetic moments as a result from a play or a movie?

In our art, or even just our every day life, isn’t it better to work hard at trying to understand a person, a group, a movement, a tragedy, a joy, in order to reproduce a story, a character, a plight, a reason…

Of course it’s impossible to truly understand, & completely empathize, as we are such individuals with such a variety of experiences. But I think that empathy serves well as a guide to a deeper place of truth whether it is for performance, or just relating to a stranger or a close friend.

“I know how you feel.”

As we write, or give life to characters already written, as the twitter conversation implied, we must put our own tears where we want the audience to feel tears, we must feel our own joy in order to pass on the same emotion, and be in our own excitement in order to take others there.

What is my point of this blog post? I guess it is my attempt to remind others as I was gratefully reminded last night that to give “good art” empathizing with your audience is a good stage from which to dive.

I’d like to thank @JBMovies (John’s site) & @vivspace (Vivienne’s blog) for allowing me to watch your valuable twitter conversation unfold.

Enjoy some good musical art from my favourite album on human nature. “One Giant Leap

Merriam Webster’s Online Dictionary’s meaning of empathy:

The action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner.

When one door closes, another door opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” Alexander Graham Bell

Thank you for the great quote Mr. Bell.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about those opening and closing doors. I’ve been thinking about the doors that have opened in my life and the doors that have been kept tightly closed. I’ve been thinking about some doors I should have maybe NOT gone through. And, some, I thankfully did go through.

As much as I can, and as much as I remember, I try to pay attention to any dusty lights suddenly extending my way from open doors. Sometimes, I’ve walked into doors, forced my way through doors, and found some doors just way too heavy to open. (I got my finger badly damaged in a closing door twice in my life because I was still trailing my hand as the door closed…hmmm… “don’t linger while the door is closing behind you”?)

Recently, I’ve watched others fall back in shock as doors have slammed in their faces just when they thought they were almost through. (Quick…look behind you! Maybe another door is waiting!!)

Can you relate?

Or, maybe it looks like there are so many doors open in front of you and you have to choose which one is seemingly the correct one. This can feel like playing Russian Roulette.

Sometimes, we wait too long for doors to open. We wait, and wait, and wait. Especially as actors, or people in the arts in need of others for their work to advance. We hope and wait. We get that audition and we wait. We get the call back and we wait. We wait for the jury to jury. We wait for the interview results. We wait for someone to tell us that we can practice our art.

Frustrating? I’ll say! You give power to someone you don’t even know in order to do the work you are destined for or are hungry to do.

A friend of mine who is also an Oscar winning actress was seeking work and wasn’t finding it. (Yes.. even winning an Oscar doesn’t guarantee you work!) Finally, she decided to create her own one-woman play. As she put it… she needed a job! A long story short, the show became a huge success and was requested everywhere. She had created her own door, and opened it wide. More attention eventually came her way and, of course, she was offered more of the work she had earlier been pursuing.

I look to the those imaginative pilgrims who boldly stride forth, and fling their own doors open and not passively wait for others to do so.

With some resistance, I was forced to open my own door several years ago because of a back operation. I had been doing work on film sets in costumes to help fund my theatrical thespian adventures, but after a long period of rehabilitation, and some permanent nerve damage, I knew I couldn’t costume supervise any longer.

So, I got entrepreneurial and started my own business – Hot Scarves ‘n Stuff, a special scarf with heat pads that I had created on a film set. I learned all the “businessy stuff”, and even did a business plan, but most importantly, I learned that you must love and be passionate about the work, which keeps you going through the tougher times.

Hot Scarves on Display

Hot Scarves on Display

Well, I didn’t love my “scarfy” venture enough. Try as I might, I just couldn’t sustain excitement for a fleece scarf. (What WAS I thinking?!!)

But, it did lead me to another venture that I do love- my buffoonery workshops. I had to open one door so I could get to the second door, which I managed to open on my own. (Thank goodness for those ideas that come in the shower!) I am hugely rewarded during my workshops when I get to watch others blossom in their “bouffoness” and become freer beings having fun!

Bouffons in Action!

Bouffons in Action!

The next heavy door I’ve created and I’m slowly pushing open, and I mean slowly, is a theatrical piece I’m writing for myself. Fear is the weighty material of this door, but I know I have to do this, especially as you are witnessing this statement!

What about YOU? May I ask you if this subject stirs some deep projects that have been brewing for some time or are you already boldly throwing doors open for us to watch? (I guess we all open doors at different speeds.) Do you perform work that feels extraordinarily satisfying?

What do think? What is the door you need to create for you? (…buying a canvas, going to a poetry slam, playing at an open mic?) Are you waiting for something? What doors do you want to fling open?

I think I used the word door way too many times in this post, but, there are not too many synonyms for “door”! Wishing you well!

I’ve neglected my poor blog the last few weeks as I threw caution to the wind and accepted a road trip proposal from a good friend of mine who was turning a task into an eleven-day adventure. Once on the road, ensconced in her big black truck, the world of computers took a back seat and had to be content to my, maybe, once a day facebook/twitter updates! I was busy absorbing the world passing by, and, stepping on new grounds.

Our route took us from Vancouver through Washington to the Oregon Coast to the California Coast into Nevada back up through California and eventually back to Vancouver, with stops in Seaside, Grants Pass, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Death Valley & Lone Pine, Alturas, & Crater Lake, with our last night in Portland, Oregon.

I saw fields & fields of olive trees, orange trees, lemon trees, and mysterious unknown trees. I saw steep rocky cliffs, snake & ladder roads, breathtaking ocean vistas, miles & miles of white beaches, rain forests, barren lands, mountains of all shapes & sizes, hills of varying qualities.

I saw the most incredible valley of desert, and felt the intense heat of the environs. I saw many funny looking cactus type trees that turned out to be the famous “Joshua Tree”. Some of these trees sneaked in the photos I was obsessively taking in order to hold onto the “now” that was slipping rapidly into the “then”.

Palm Tree in Death Valley!

Palm Tree in Death Valley

I also saw villages of various colours: seaside places, myriad of crab shacks & clam chowder shanties, funny little towns, posh expensive towns (Carmel, Malibu CA) and that “out of the blue” Victorian Tea Shop (where I bought my glass ring for 7$) in Tillamook. “Where is the best coffee in town?” we asked what looked like a local gentleman on the street. “I don’t know! They’re all the best!” he exclaimed. That’s when we discovered our first café kiosk where you can drive up and get your latte or plain old coffee. Happily we found them everywhere!

Our Favourite Coffee stops!

Our Favourite Coffee stops!

I experienced the energy of the cities such as: San Francisco – the Golden Gate Bridge (even right under it!!), the stylish San Fran houses, Fisherman’s Wharf, a view of creepy Alcatraz Island, eating crab & more clam chowder outside, watching the crazy “BushMan” scare innocent passerbys on the street, witnessing the old streetcars billowing with tourists hanging on, tasting (&, okay, buying) fabulous Ghiradelli chocolate, and Boudin’s famous Sourdough bread (yum)…

…cities such as: Los Angeles – crazy busy freeways, apartment sized pancakes on our first morning, regal palm trees lining the streets, warmth, extraordinary bright sunlight, touristy strolls on Sunset Blvd, Hollywood Blvd, Rodeo Drive, driving through Beverly Hills, on Mulholland Drive, down to Santa Monica & Venice, seeing the massive beaches, the festive pier (I adamantly refused to go on the ferris wheel because I didn’t want to get sick – guess what happened later anyway? Hmm… Murphy’s law?), meeting with new twitter actor friends at that neat “Urth Café”, meandering around the Venice Canals, marveling at the foliage & the charming houses, seeing the little house where my Dad spent a winter in 1958 (still the original one), celebrating “Cinco de Mayo” at a little Mexican restaurant (no swine flu!)…

Typical tourist! :)

Typical tourist!

…cities such as: Las Vegas where the luminosity boldly greeted us when we arrived in the evening, the “main drag” noises of people, cars, outside shows, the “volcano” exploding, pirates climbing their masts, gigantic electronic billboards announcing shows & ads, perfumed air, mountains of hotels impersonating Paris, Venice, New York, promises of luxury, excitement of possible fortune (nope I didn’t win), the slapping of peep show promo cards on the street sales peoples’ hands, the friendly service, those tasty Margaritas to top our walk off, and the strange daylight sensation of Vegas the day after.

Arriving Las Vegas

Arriving Las Vegas

The last city we visited was Portland. A city that felt creative, certainly abit chillier, but inspiring especially with that crazy gargantuan book store, Powells, and the weekend market where many artisans got our own creative juices flowing, as did the food! Loved that homemade ice cream! (did I mention it did get a bit warmer?)

On the road, we had surprises such as Lone Pine, and “The Beverly & Jim Rogers Museum of Lone Pine Film History” revealing a super collection of memorabilia from the Western films shot in the area (perfect for two gals who work in the film industry – and for a couple of  horse nuts!), Crater Lake to where we detoured spontaneously, the road over to Vegas taking us through a fruit belt (those strawberries & grapefruit were so delicious), and the thousands of sea lions on that Oregon beach.

Death Valley

Death Valley

As I write this I confirm my original thought that these 11 days were very theatrical in their movements, in their silences, in their surprises, in their suspense, in their joy, in their noise, in their different colours, temperatures, lighting, in their textures, in their excitement, in their histories, and in their thought provoking moments. Isn’t that good theatre?

We can turn to our everyday rhythms and experiences to inspire our creative ventures whether they be writing, painting, acting, performing, composing. We just need to listen to our own reactions and translate that graph to our work. Ha… easier said than done, but definitely doable.

The vastness & strength of the desert, and the busyness & overabundance of the bold “sin city” are contrasts I find compelling. Hopefully these elements will show up in some form in my creative writing.

What sounds, smells, sights, and tastes in your day informs your work?

Near StovePipe Wells

Near StovePipe Wells

Lately I’ve been thinking about the power of music and it’s presence in the creative process. Do you use it any way to help you with your work? Or do you need silence in order to create?

When I designed my bouffon workshop I tapped into a line up of music that supported each step of the way. At the beginning, I chose music to put participants at ease, to enhance creating an early safe place. I then slowly sneaked in primal sounds to inspire each bouffon to emerge. Eventually, faster pace music helped playfulness release, and then soft music brought everyone back to his or her humans. This, of course, is the readers digest version!!

At the end of most workshops, people request the CD titles as they have enjoyed the atmosphere, and their reaction to the music.

Another place where I have consistently used music is before performing on stage. Again, I listen to my instincts and choose a piece of music that suits what I, as an actor, need to hear prior to making my entrance. I have to say that some of my choices have been most surprising considering the type of role I was playing. I think the most extreme example was when I was playing a demure French woman (Agnes in  L’Astronome) who loved to knit (and opened the play knitting on stage) and who was in love with her psychiatrist. The music that came to me was the song “Shine” by “Collective Soul”. I needed to dance and “rock out” before I became that character! Crazy but it worked for me!

I am a social media enthusiast (this term I adopted from Kevin Knebl who is a musician & warm & effective LinkedIn coach) and you can find me scrolling around on twitter, looking for inspirational gems. I find them. I would like to share one with you now that relates to our discussion on music.

Vivian Nesbitt and John Dillon have a unique place online with their radio station: Art of the Song Creativity Radio. Their mission speaks clearly of their goals and desires for all of us creative types….everyone! I will let their words lead you to their website and their individual blogs. Explore, listen and get inspired for your mode of creation whether it is a play, a poem, a story, a song, a dance piece, a painting, an invention, or a great marketing plan.

“Art of the Song is a one-hour independently produced radio show with music and interviews exploring inspiration and creativity through song writing and other art forms. The program is heard on over 190 stations worldwide. Learn why songwriters and artists create, how they become inspired, and how you can tap into that creative source in every aspect of your life.

Art of the Song is not just for songwriters and musicians, as it explores universal truths common to all creative expression. We talk with writers of folk and roots music as well as novelists and visual artists.

Our mission is to inspire listeners to find and express their unique creative voices, and to connect and grow the worldwide community of creative people.”

I would like to thank all musicians, songwriters, and singers for bringing your sounds to me. I have always dreamed of being one of you but will have to settle for being an actor/writer/teacher for the moment. Maybe one day I will collaborate with a musician to put music to my words. (I can fantasize, can’t I?)

Thanks for reading!

(Here’s a little Collective Soul for nostalgia sake!)

I am excited because I was recommended a new book that I want to share with all who are creative, innovative, and imaginative.

The book is called “A Whole New Mind” ..Why Right-Brainers will rule the future.. by Daniel H. Pink. (I was thrilled to find the author on twitter – @danielpink- and equally thrilled when he responded to my tweet!)

I’m almost finished reading his book, but I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you about it!

As I read “A Whole New Mind” I’m finding myself nodding my head, smiling, and feeling a warm sensation of worldly belonging, and a deep understanding. I enjoy this new feeling of significance.

As a creative type, a theatre performer, a sometimes writer, a sometimes poet, a dabbler in painting, an emotional being (maybe a little more than some), a teacher, a director and someone who was told I was overly sensitive and easily amused (I just have a great sense of humour), and I am finding solace in this book. I feel I am finally being accepted, and even revered for my skills, and talents as a right brained person.

Wow.

Daniel H. Pink is speaking my language. And, I think he is bang on with his theories. He puts it in a way that I haven’t quite before read.  Maybe I’m being naive, but if I am, so be it. Me voila! (Daniel H. Pink parle le francais aussi!)

This book is giving me hope for my future and also a confirmation of my thus far journey. It helps to make sense of my creativity, and my desire to move it into the left brained world. I’m strangely drawn to explore that world, and open it up to a richer state. Does that sound over zealous? But, I do.

Shouldn’t we all be allowed to play? In play we discover what computers can’t. Computers are taking a lot of our left brained work away so what is left? What is left is space for our right brains to kick in and get to work in a much more inspired way.

I won’t go on.

Daniel H. Pink’s book will describe this hopeful movement to you. I think all governments, and schools should read his book. Maybe, then, they will realize that cutting the arts is like cutting off part of one’s brain. Our people don’t deserve that.

Thank you to Simon Howse who we met on a plane to Singapore almost a year ago and who, just last week, recommended this book to me.

Thank you to Daniel H. Pink for writing “A Whole New Mind“…

Follow me on Twitter…@tjbuffoonery!

 

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