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I come from an artistic family. I grew up surrounded by pottery and paintings by my father, and fibre artistic works (weaving, knitting, needlework, quilting & more) by my mother. They were always making things. Our cupboards were filled with pottery. Our floors covered with woven and hooked rugs. I wore handmade sweaters, hats, and scarves, and funky leg warmers (still have them).
Eventually we moved from Banff to Prince Edward Island where my family purchased land, built a house, and made our own shop, which resulted in me learning the world of sales early in life.
I also puttered, dabbled in my parent’s art. I would draw, make pinch pots, slab boxes, pendants, and I would help put on Mom’s warps and sand the bottoms of Dad’s pottery so it was smooth to touch. I tried knitting, but was abysmal. When it came to craft fair time, I would help load & unload the van, and watch my mother skillfully display their work. These observations served me well later in years!
My Dad taught as well. When he taught his drawing and painting classes I would sometimes sit in and partake. I would overhear some of his instruction and try to apply it. I liked it. I would get frustrated, but mostly I liked it. But I preferred drawing so I would do that more frequently by myself.
Free Standing Stone Sculpture
But… it’s funny.
My parents were always the artists in my mind. I wasn’t an artist. I didn’t feel I could own that title. They were very good at what they did, and I admired their singled passions.
Finally, years later, I thought I had discovered a similar passion in acting. And, yes… it most certainly is a passion but I still felt I also wanted something where I didn’t need an audience or a team. Writing, yes… a definite possibility, as I used to love doing that when I was a kid, too… And, when I show up to my blog, I am happy.
Then…
You know what?
Just last week, I dove back into the world of paint, encouraged by my painter friend, Melanie Kobayashi, and experienced a ripple of surprising excitement. Mel guided me into her studio, offered me paints, a massive piece of heavy paper, and ordered me to “load up your brush and don’t be scared!” I did what I was told, and soon was having a cathartic dance with the paint and canvas.
My inner critic showed up several times just to keep me humble and sweating. “Anyone can do that” “You’re cheating” “That’s doesn’t take talent” “Who do you think you are painting?” “Wow.. bad taste in colour”…I chased away it away many times.
SHUT UP!!
I replaced my inner expulsions to “I’m just having fun”…. And some obscene chasing off remarks, similar to “buzz off”.
I succeeded in keeping going, and not succumbing to a perfectionist attitude. It was hard work in some ways, and on the other side it was deeply satisfying. And, because of the size of the work… oh, boy.. did my thighs ache the following days. But in the best way possible!
Would you like to see it? I hesitated to post my first attempt, my first abstract purge, but, what the heck!
It’s a wild one… I decided to call it “Mel Made Me Do It”….
Mel Made Me Do It! (5' x 40")
Detail of "Mel Made Me Do It"
Funny how one seemingly unrelated creative activity can open the doors to others. Some old plans for something have re-emerged since painting but… that’s for another time.
Where do you allow yourself to play, create, and open the channels?
Okay… it’s a long title but it needs to be said.
I have just spent three amazing days auditing, witnessing, observing, absorbing, laughing, crying, taking notes, processing, confirming, squirming, cheer-leading, supporting, holding my breath, thinking and agreeing at the Larry Moss Workshop by Vancouver Acting School.
Larry Moss workshop held at The Rio Theatre Vancouver
No, Larry Moss, well known American acting coach, does not need to find his inner bouffon. He has it well intact as he was brutally, and winkingly (a made up Trilby word) truthful, like a bouffon loves to be, with each and every actor who was brave enough to perform a scene for him to critique.
And, he did.
Mr. Moss did not let one person off the hook. And, it wasn’t because he prances around with an ego to show off his expertise and tremendous experience. No… he does it because he cares deeply, very deeply about actors and their unseen potential.
He pushed, prodded, swore, bullied, encouraged, inspired, threatened, and did whatever it took to break through an actor’s carefully placed mask to get to their raw truth.
“It’s all about the story!” “Fall in love with the writing!” “If the writer wrote it, we want to hear it!” “Grow up to the writer.” “It’s about telling the story, all about the story.” “Script analysis… good actors are good detectives!”
Held at the spacious Rio Theatre in Vancouver, actors were forced to find their theatre voice – a challenge for many since a minimalist style of film acting, “faux naturalism”, has become a sad epidemic, according to Larry Moss. “Narcissism is killing our work as artists.” “You’re all being geared for TV and it will eat you alive.” “Be brilliant in the theatre and the films will find you.”
Actors were made to do push ups, stamp the stage, scream, and shout, dance, and hold their hands to their ribs while doing their lines in order to find a grounded voice. Over and over again we witnessed breakthroughs, after breakthroughs, and wonderful gems proving this type of work is necessary. (it also affirmed the work I do with my buffoonery acting students)
On the last day, I recognized a part of myself in a certain actor, and took his work he did with Larry to my heart. Very quickly I found myself in tears, tugging down my hat, relating to his difficulty of letting go of control and trusting the idea, the text, and not being afraid of vulnerability.
Yet, if I look back at some recent work, I have let go. I have gone into the deep end, but I know I could go even deeper.
Much deeper.
Other actors shed tears, as well, after their work with Larry was over. “How do you feel?” “I’m lost.” “No, you’re not lost, you’re getting found.” He leans forward, “All tears are because you now know what you didn’t know.” “… a nervous breakTHROUGH…”
He looks out at us. “Isn’t it funny, acting helps us rip down our defenses and be more human.”
The three-day session equaled a roller coaster of emotions, confirmations, and inspiration. I have to thank Kirsten Clarkson from the Vancouver Acting School for giving the gift of Larry Moss to our acting community.
We needed it.
Larry Moss & Kirsten Clarkson
“Choose something beyond your wildest dreams… dare to be great.” Larry Moss.
(Subsequent posts will contain more about the workshop as there is much to discuss… stay tuned..)
..Into the Future”
That’s my excuse for my lack of blogging. But I am not going to waste time apologizing, but rather just jump in and start with a musical interlude by the Steve Miller Band.
I used to search for this appropriate for the moment song as a little girl in bed, under the covers with my transistor radio and earplug. I searched the night airwaves until I had heard it a few times before drifting off into sleep. What did I know so instinctively as a twelve year old?
Yes… time just passes too quickly.
Let’s get creative!
Do you ever have so much to do that you become a deer in the headlights and can’t seem to accomplish anything?
You stare at your computer, the piling up papers, the dying plants on the balcony, the list of phone calls to make, the books unread, the gathering dust, the tantalizing projects demanding your creativity, the workshops to book, the website to re-vamp, the tweets to tweet, the photos to get printed, the food shopping to do (we can go one more day without granola?), the other pile of tax stuff waiting, the nagging laundry, the birthday card & gift to send…. need I go on?
Western problems. Our world on “overwhelm”. Kind of makes you feel silly. Nothing on that list is life threatening, or dramatic. But, in my little bubble, the tornado of those tasks whirling around affects my entrepreneurial work habits, and my quiet time.
So, it’s time to hone in, make some choices, and simplify.
Maybe that means attending less “meetings”, cleaning up the desk, once and for all, checking emails less frequently, choosing a website format that makes it easier for my clients to also have clarity.
Maybe it means setting aside some of those “how to” books, and just diving in and doing. (My parents didn’t have pod casts to watch, seminars to take, social media skills to learn, and they still managed to have a business!)
Maybe it means just turning off all electronic devices for a period of time!
Maybe it means not feeling guilty when having a long winded, enjoyable coffee with a friend.
I have been in touch with someone who works well with an eye on simplicity. Dave Charest encourages his clients to pick and choose the essence of their missions. His blog, “FuzzBucket: Inspiration – Creativity – New Media Marketing for the Human Condition”, is simple, airy, and filled with do-able marketing advice for people in the arts. I hope to finally apply some of his business suggestions.
This is a positive period. It is a time of valuable reassessment and focusing on breathing into simplicity. Sometimes too many choices (or perceived choices) are not good.
I’m talking to myself, but in doing this maybe I’m talking to some other people too? How about you?
Here’s a great TED talk: “The Paradox of Choice” by Barry Schwartz
A few days ago I had the privilege of finally seeing where my dear friend, Mel Kobayashi, spends her passionate painterly moments. The visit was overdue.
Mel opened the door, blathered on and on about the mess, that it was a lot better than before and that she had been cleaning prior but she still needed to clean some more.
I had stopped listening a few moments earlier. Two massively stunning abstract pieces stopped me in my tracks making me catch my breath and hold my heart. I felt dizzy with attraction. Mel watched me, taken by my reaction. I wouldn’t blame her if she thought I was “acting” as that is a skill I possess, but, oh, no, my shivers were authentic.
I’d like to share her staggering work (in my opinion) with you, and a little more insight to the artist behind the scenes.
TJ: “When did you start painting?”
MO: “I started painting seriously about ten years ago, but I have always been
creating things. I’ve dabbled in just about everything, including
performance art, sculpture, and drawing. I think it’s important to refuel my
artistic process by working in a variety of media and techniques.”
TJ: “Do/did you have a mentor?”
MO: “I had an art teacher in high school, Mr. Bradley, who said that the passion behind love and war are the two strongest drivers in life. He thought I understood both (according to my artwork) and urged me to pursue studies in art, which I did at university in Toronto and Vancouver. And while they are not mentors per se, I also have people around me who have been incredibly supportive of my art, including you, Trilby! (Thank you, thank you!) Through them I have gained confidence in my work, a wonderful studio to work in, and sales among corporate clients.”
TJ: “Did you encounter any obstacles in developing your art?”
MO: “Fine art at SFU, where I went to school, is grounded in conceptual art. As a student I thought it was the coolest art ever! The idea in my mind was to
whack people over the head with our intellectual genius or, better yet, to
sneak up on them and insinuate our enlightened ideas into their minds. But
that art-making style profoundly inhibited my ability to create art for the
joy of it for a long, long time. In fact, it took me more than ten years to
feel not guilty for making pieces fueled by emotion rather than reason. Now
that I am once again in touch with my visceral creative process, ironically,
I also feel free to justify my work intellectually within an historical
context if needed.”
TJ: “What do you love most about the action of painting?”
MO: “Painting makes me feel alive. My hair feels alive. My fingernails, my
earlobes, eyelashes, all alive. I feel absolutely free when I paint. It’s a
joy that’s hard to describe. There are no boundaries, no rights, no wrongs.
Instinct rules, at least in the initial stages. Colour, texture, form, movement combine to the point where time stands still. My studio is below ground, which I thought might be scary and claustrophobic at first, but I could be in the middle of Stanley Park or a busy construction pit for all the attention I pay to my surroundings during a session. I am lost in time when I am painting.”
TJ: “What medium do you work in?”
MO: “Right now I paint. Paint is expressive – it can be flung, dripped, smeared,
brushed on, smattered, scratched out, washed away, and layered. It comes
transparent or opaque, thick or thin, glossy or flat. You can do a million
things with paint. I like acrylics: 1) they don’t smell and are perhaps less
harmful to the environment than oils, and; 2) they dry quickly, which is
convenient when using thick layers. Lately I’ve been painting on heavy
paper, which I buy in 10-meter rolls. Paper also behaves well on the floor.
It doesn’t shift around or bunch up like unstretched canvas would given my
studio setup.”
TJ: “What would you tell someone if they wanted to try painting?”
MO: “Go for it! I believe that everyone can paint. Don’t worry about training -
just do it. Of course, having foundations in drawing and colour theory may
help you achieve an envisioned effect more quickly, but sometimes the
fundamentals just muddy the path to genuine, heartfelt expression. Children
move from colour-and-form art, which I love, into controlled figurative art
as they grow, but I believe that adults can create very powerful work by
returning to their child-like state, by unlearning art rules. At least I
think this is true for abstract expressionism. I also believe in learning by
doing. Mistakes are good. Some of my favourite effects are comprised of
happy accidents that could not be learnt in any school. Having said that, at
art school, faculty and fellow students may open doors to alternative
art-making and opportunities to show your work.”
TJ: “Thank you Mel for allowing me to share your work and thoughts. I understand the private aspect of the creative process, and honour this moment.”
To see more of Mel Kobayashi’s artwork or to contact her, please visit her site.
It’s 2010 and somehow January slipped by in a speed, and in a series of events that left me a negligent blogger. I feel like I’ve left a love one unattended for just way too long.
So.. it’s February 1st and I’m not waiting any longer for the right moment, the inspiration, and the long comfortable stretches of time that will, of course, make me write a brilliant blog post. Ha! What am I thinking???
According to so many, I just need to show up, and take action.
This is me taking action.
In the “theme” of just doing it, I’d like to share another book with you called “The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Creative Inner Battles” by Steven Pressfield. In his book, Pressfield discusses all the ways we resist practicing our art, and what to do about it. I squirmed as I recognized myself in many of the varieties of resistance (from procrastination to fantasies to assorted vices to plain old fear).
If you’re unsure of your styles of resistance, this book will define them for you, and give you the kick in the pants we all need from time to time.
“The War of Art” is an easy read in one way, and also very challenging as it pushes you up against a mirror. Time for another re-read for me!
What are some of the ways you dare to admit that you cleverly deviate from producing your art or following your calling?
I’m glad I’ve broken the spell of not showing up here, and I boldly wish you all a Happy, Healthy, and Creative 2010, even though it is already February 1st!
Treat yourself to “The War of Art” at my favourite bookstore, Biz Books, in Vancouver, now online!
It’s now December 2010 and I am resurrecting a post I did last year regarding some scarves and the PEI Humane Society. A couple new photos and an ongoing plan in time for this seasonal gift giving month! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and all the best…
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This post may seem a bit off topic with my usual posts, but not really. It’s still all about creativity and thinking outside the box.
My mother, Joan Kempton-Jeeves, is a Fibre Artist, originally from England, and has worked cleverly and artistically in weaving, wool dying, hooking, quilting, crocheting, and knitting for many years. Her work is unconventional as she enjoys “painting with her wool”. I own many beautiful sweaters, and scarves (I’m wearing one as I write), and living in Vancouver where it’s warmer than the rest of Canada I don’t always have the chance to sport my wearable art. So when the temperature dips to a wool wearing one, I’m content!
In the past couple of years my mother has been knitting steadily with the caveat that she is “cleaning up” her wool, and producing a series of beautiful scarves. Her collection has grown steadily and makes for an impressive group.
Some of Joan's scarf collection & her wall hangings
My mother is also an animal lover, especially cats, and my family has had a few dear feline friends, all of who are now gone, and one token German Shepherd, who is also hanging out with the cats in animal heaven.
Fond memories of kittens born in our wood shed
So…where are we going, you may ask?
Well…sometimes my Mom likes to make donations to her local humane society, and visit the animals once in awhile, and she had a fabulous idea.
Remember those scarves I was mentioning? Well, my Mom would like to donate her scarves indirectly to the Prince Edward Island Humane Society (Canada). Indirectly means that she will give a scarf to anyone who donates at least 25.00 to the Society. These donations will go under the “Joan Kempton Scarf Fund”.
A closer sampling of Joan's scarves
Multi coloured scarf
Cream white scarf
That’s a pretty good deal! And, I thought it was such a good idea that I said I would help, hence, this blog post. By writing about this and encouraging those who would like to give a great present of a well-needed donation AND receive a beautiful hand knit scarf. It’s a win-win-win situation for all.
Deep Blue & Purple Scarf
What do you think?
If you are interested:
Write to me at trilby@buffooneryworkshops.com. And we’ll work out the best way to accept your donation and for you to receive your scarf, and receipt.
If you have any questions about this unique fundraiser, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I am more than happy to respond or help out, and choose a scarf!
(p.s. shipping charges are extra… but, we’ll chat)
Green & Cream Scarf
“A man came to the Village Headman and pleaded for help. ‘I can’t stand it any longer. My life is sheer hell. There’s me, my wife, my children, and my in-laws all living together in a single room. We’re arguing, and complaining, and constantly at each other’s throats. It’s destroying us all.’
‘I can help if you promise to do as I say,’ said the Headman.
‘Anything. Whatever you say, I’ll do it. It can’t be worse than what I’m living with now.’
‘Very good. What livestock do you have?’
‘Two goats, a pig, a donkey, five chickens, and a turkey.’
‘Bring them all into your single room and come back to see me in a week.’
What could the man do? He had promised to do as the Headman asked. He came back a week later in a terrible state. ‘The stink! The mess! The noise. I’d be better off dead. It’s like living in a mad-house.’
‘Good!’ said the Headman. ‘Go home and throw out all the animals. Then come see me tomorrow.’
The next day the man returned with a wide smile on his face and his eyes sparkling with happiness. ‘Thank you. Thank you. It’s paradise. So clean, so quiet, and so much space to live life for me and my loved ones.’”
Boy do I relate to this story!! Yesterday, I told my partner that we needed to get some animals (small apartment!).
This is one of many stories in the book, by Nick Owen, titled “The Salmon of Knowledge” Stories for Work, Life, the Dark Shadow, and Oneself. Each tale compiled into this rich, thought-provoking read falls under a specific theme, and contains a moral. Introducing the themed chapters are personal anecdotes from the author, and suggestions of what each story might enlighten.
I was fortunate to meet Nick Owen at the Applied Improvisation Network Conference in Portland, Oregon, in November, where he delivered a compelling keynote speech on Leadership, and touching the heart. Lucky me got to have a brief chat with him the evening prior, and I knew we would be in for a treat. When I asked Nick Owen about his books and he strongly suggested “The Salmon of Knowledge” for me.
Thank you Nick!
Nick Owen delivering the Keynote Speech
If you are on a personal journey of discovery, of life paths, of “just what are we doing here”, of learning to let go, honesty, clearing, acceptance, presence, of illusion, of creativity, of self, this book is perfect. I certainly feel that way as I observe and participate in life’s challenges. Somehow, reading a story, a metaphor that applies to situations in my life helps me to adjust my perspective in a positive way. Or, it just helps me to see that there is another perspective!
Story telling is our most effective way of sharing our experiences. I hope you get a chance to have the thoughtful pleasure I am still having as I read, and re-read this unique collection.
For a little more about Nick Owen’s keynote speech, read from “GameChangers“, Applied Improvisation Conference Speaker, Mike Bonifer.
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…
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