Say Yes!

Posted on November 13, 2013 by admin

After years and years of saying “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m too busy,” I swore that whenever possible I would now say ‘Yes!”. Yes opens doors. Yes takes you on adventures. Yes introduces you to a whole world of new.

When I was asked if I would direct a “devised play” on the theme of motherhood for the Fringe next summer, my automatic response would normally have been. “Um, let me think about it…. No!” You see, I’ve never had children of my own, nor have I been a disciple of collective creations

Jodi, however whose brainchild this is, is bubbling with creative energy, ideas and roll-up-your-sleeves-know-how. As a mom of two toddlers, she has her Masters in Writing for Performance from the UK and an extensive background in devised theatre. Both of us have a penchant for edgy, immersive and experimental and neither can stomach work that is benign or cute.. Jodi also has found us the perfect venue – a cafe on Harbord Street for our site specific piece.

Soooo…… last week I said yes to Jodi.

Yesterday, our spot with the Toronto Fringe was confirmed. We’re in!!!

So, now we’re looking for Moms to workshop with us one evening a week downtown Toronto beginning in January. We’re looking for new moms, old moms, young moms, teen moms, single moms, adoptive moms, ethnic moms, lesbian moms, pregnant moms, modern moms, old-fashioned moms, working moms, moms with disabilities or kids with disabilities, artist moms, actor moms, musician moms, dancer moms, great moms, bad moms. truck driving moms…. and moms of all stripes and colours.

If you’re interested in being part of this or learning more, please contact me at info@janetkish.ca

Doodling, Fuck and Other Four Letter Words

Posted on July 21, 2013 by admin

Under certain and very specific conditions, of which my students were all fully advised and aware, swearing in scripts and scene work in my classes was condoned.

Blind censorship does not help anyone to think critically on their own. Learning how to discern between what is gratuitous or simply added for shock value and what is critical to the character or the situation is a valuable learning skill for artists and audiences.There was one dirty four letter word one word however, that students were never, ever, ever, ever allowed to use in my studio:

SKIT

I became the horrified drama queen if a student referred to their work as a skit. I’d gasp. or moan, or sometimes, shriek.

“YOU SAID THE FOUR LETTER WORD!”

What’s so wrong with the word, they’d ask.

“Boy Scouts do skits! Camp kids do skits! MATH teachers do skits!. Drama students DO NOT DO or even say that four letter word that begins with an “s” and ends with a “t” – and it’s not “SHIT”!

It was as much fun as the times I’d send them outside the studio to spit, spin and swear for that other taboo word. Honestly though, like most drama teachers, the hair still stands on the back of my neck when I hear the word “skit”.

After years, I finally came up with an explanation that made sense:

A SKIT IS TO THEATRE, WHAT DOODLING IS TO ART.

So, on this lazy Sunday morning, I stumbled across a great little website http://kerbyrosanes.com/ that made me think of doodles and skits and inspired today’s blog.

Perhaps one can find artistic merit in doodles and skits, after all.

When I first arrived as Mowat, as Head of Drama in September 1989, I informed our principal (who we shall call Mr. A.) that our first production of the season would be One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. It had been a few years since the drama department had mounted a play at that school; he simply nodded his head, made a note of the November dates in his calendar and he gave the quick go-ahead.

Two days before opening night Mr. A. apparently in a panic called one of the senior cast members, Jeff Jones, to his office. He seemed very anxious and asked him how rehearsal were going. Jeff said they were going great. After hemming and hawing, Mr. A. finally asked Jeff if the play was “like the movie” which he had finally rented the night before. Jeff assured him that the stage play was considerably different and many of the scenes in Nicholson film aren’t in the play. Mr. A. seemed relieved.

There were many brilliant moments in the play and that cast – with Alex Pearson, Jeff Jones, Chris Scholey, Jeff Logue and many others – may have been one of the best companies I’ve ever worked with. The one actor I cast as one of the “incurables” Ruckley was a hulk of guy – well over 6 feet tall and 200 pounds. His costume was nothing more than an adult diaper. For most of the play, Ruckley stood upstage with his arms outstretched as if crucified. But at critical moments he stepped out of his catatonia and boomed in a deep baritone voice: “F-F-F FUCK ‘EM ALL!” It was one of my all time favorite stage moments. The effect was both hilarious and unsettling for the audience.

Opening night sold out and the 700 seat auditorium was filled with students, parents and community members. We placed Mr. A. in the VIP section of the house and strategically I sat a few seats behind him. The lights went down and the play begin. When Ruckley spoke his first line there was a considerable shift in the energy of the audience. Before the laughter erupted it seemed as if every single person in the audience took their eyes off the stage and turned their heads to see Mr. A’s reaction. He slumped a couple of inches lower in his seat every time the f-bomb was dropped. By the end of the show, he could barely be seen from behind. I can’t remember if he stood at the end (which got a full standing ovation every night) but I do know it wasn’t until much later, Mr. A. finally commented about the play and that night.

When I wished Mr. A. a happy retirement years afterwards, he smiled and asked me if I knew how upset he was with Cuckoo’s Nest. He said that he went home that night and didn’t know what he would do with me, once the dozens of complaints and grievances would pour in. But much to his surprise, he didn’t get a single complaint. Not one.

Mr. A. looked me in the eye and said, “I still don’t understand why not. Can you tell me why nobody complained?”

I do know Mr. A. but if you couldn’t figure it out, I don’t think you’ll ever understand.

You Deserve a Break Today (or not) at #McTheatre

Posted on April 4, 2013 by admin

I just closed a production in a theatre festival of what was supposed to be about new ideas. Actually it was a homogenized collection of mainstream scripts. The play I chose to direct was one of the exceptions. The playwright Gina Femia played with conventions of character, time and setting, as did I in my direction. Not surprisingly, this was the most challenging piece to grasp and appreciate for the fundamentally conservative audiences.

While we were still in rehearsal, a cohort and friend who (several years ago) was one of my students made the front page of a major paper for distributing allegedly inappropriate material to his students for a stand-up comedy unit. The story was picked up by other media outlets across the country and Jeff was subsequently and rather hastily and unceremoniously dismissed from his 12 year position as a teacher with the Toronto District School Board. It didn’t matter that students, colleagues, parents and alumni all rallied to support this teacher and to explain that although Mr. Jones may be conceived as unconventional, it is because he is genuine, honest and authentic that he is so effective as a teacher. Jeff made a difference in his students’ lives.

Political correctness. Cookie cutter education. Moral sanctimony.

I belong to a very small minority of people who don’t really enjoy musicals and other forms of big box entertainment. I can’t count the number of times I went to see a show that got rave reviews from audiences, but I walked out feeling “meh”. Students and many of my friends are shocked when I announce I wasn’t particularly wowed by Rent, seduced by Chicago or touched by My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding. I understand the appeal of such shows, but the outcome is not much different than the way I feel after I eat a Big Mac. The two beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions – all on a sesame seed bun may satisfy billions of cravings, but for me the greasy, salty burger with chemical laden sauce makes me feel a little sick and a lot guilty. The Big Mac will never, ever have the tender, rich succulent satisfaction of a prime, grass-fed filet mignon.

I do not go to the theatre to have my appetite for entertainment satiated. I need and expect theatre (and literature, film, music, art and dance) to feed my imagination and nourish my spirit. I expect to be confronted with new ideas, perspectives and questions and I hope my equilibrium will somehow be shaken, and my boundaries be pushed. Give me theatre that makes me think hard, feel deeply and it’s okay to make me feel uncomfortable. I’d so rather attend and pay good money for an unsuccessful production with noble intentions than sit through a glittering, shiny multimillion dollar production that has next to no substance.

I felt the same way about teaching. It wasn’t about teaching my students to become entertainers – tap-dancing musical theatre performers or God help us, reality television celebs. It wasn’t about encouraging kids to get an agent so they could audition for McDonalds’ commercials and make lots of money so they could pretend they were actors or artists.

What I did try to teach was critical thinking skills. I wanted my students to create, not imitate, to use the arts as a form of communication for ideas, values and issues that were universally important, and to connect in meaningful ways in order to better understand our shared humanity beyond social class, ethnicity, religion or geographical and political divides. I wanted my students to listen to others, to empathize with those who may be different, to keep their minds open, to be accepting and to to think outside of the proverbial box. I tried to show them that creating something worthwhile was always difficult and requires serious work ethic, tenacity, determination, sacrifice and passion. I tried to create a safe space to explore, where they could be honest and open and real and where it was okay to fail.

So, here we are in 2013 and in many ways the world I live in has stepped backwards. My friends still teaching in the trenches are now second-guessing themselves and their curriculum because conservative nay-sayers, book-burners, paranoid administrators and witch-hunters are on the loose and empowered by their sense righteousness. Literally, there is a climate of fear. Based on what has happened to Jeff, I believe we are now entering an age of McSchools and McDrama classes. The best teachers: the daring ones, the non-conventional, the brave and the creative – they do have reason to be frightened. Theatre too, is becoming increasingly safe and insipid. Artistic directors have become afraid of punitive funding cuts by conservative governments. While razzle dazzle shows like Wizard of Oz and Cats are still attracting crowds to Toronto theatres, the really brilliant work by talented Canadian playwrights, directors and actors is only seen and appreciated by a few.

It really is a Catch 22.

Love, Worship and All that Lies in the Human Heart

Quote

Posted on January 19, 2013 by admin

What an enormous magnifier is tradition! How a thing grows in the human memory and in the human imagination, when love, worship, and all that lies in the human heart, is there to encourage it.

~Thomas Carlyle

Recently, I was brought to tears by a NY Times article written by John Lithgow about his discovery of a wonderful tradition at the National Theatre (see link bottom of the page.) I was amused and surprised how easily my tears came. Then I realized it’s the very traditions and superstitions of theatre that I love so madly and deeply.

At least once or twice or three times a school year, one of my younger drama students would speak the name of the Scottish play during rehearsal or class. My reaction was always well-measured melodrama. I’d gasp loudly and my eyes would widen to horrified orbs. I’d look around the space with such terror – as if the Gods would strike us all down immediately. Then promptly and fiercely I’d shove the poor kid out the door while explaining to the rest that he/she must spin thrice, spit, swear and knock on the door, begging for forgiveness and our permission to be let back in.

“You really want us to swear?”

“You must!” was my response.

“And spit?”

“With all your might!”

This was one of my favorite teaching tricks. Every student was mesmerized; even the most disinterested came to life as I explained how this superstition came to be. No matter what the rehearsal or lesson plan had been that day, for the next half hour we talked about Shakespeare, superstitions and and the importance of traditions in our everyday lives.

The students wanted to know if I was superstitious. A few had the gall to even test me. That was the cowboy of the group, the yahoo, the little sheister who’d call out the “M” name over and over again – proving to the rest of the ensemble that he or she was no coward, and didn’t believe in such nonsense. So there, Ms. Kish!

Jonathan M. called out the name of the Scottish king repeatedly at a tech session one evening prior to production. We were using scaffolding for the hang rather than a ladder. I recall Jon was playing the part of George in The Actor’s Nightmare and he was quite smug when nothing terrible happened that evening. It was quite late when we called it quits and decided to finish the hang early the following morning. Cast and crew showed up and the half-asleep SM asked for the 10 foot high scaffolding to be wheeled to another area. She had forgotten that there were six fresnels on top of it, out of sight, and so we were all shocked as three of the lamps were knocked off and came crashing down one by one toward the heads below. Fortunately the screams were loud enough and the crew jumped out of the way – just in time. Nonetheless, all three, very new and expensive fresnels were smashed beyond repair. All of us angrily reminded Jonathan of his blasphemy the day before but he defiantly refused blame for this accident.

The Gods were not happy. They got revenge.

During Jon’s first performance, he completely and quite ironically forgot George’s lines and had to improvise one entire scene. The day of his second performance, Jon badly sprained his ankle and had to painfully walk with a crutch. And in the middle of his third and final performance, there was a power failure. The audience sat in total darkness for ten excruciatingly long minutes before the lights came back on.

Finally, Jon, who is now 30 and an alumnae of the Sheridan Musical Theatre program, became a believer! No-one now is more wary of the curse than he.

Six years after she died, I still hear my mother’s voice in my head before every performance. Before each show, she, a transplanted Berliner, would wish me “Hals und beinbruch.” The translation of this is break your neck and your leg (compared to our simple break a leg). Oh, those funny, funny morbid Germans!

The French say “merde” and the Spanish say “mucha mierda” meaning much shit. Opera singers are known to say “toi, toi, toi” before a performance to ward off any spells or hexes, and Australians reportedly call out “chookas” before a performance. The common denominator is it’s believed to be bad luck to wish good luck; therefore, it must be good luck to wish bad luck.

And so it goes….. Never turn of the ghost light when the theatre is empty. Never whistle on or off stage. Never bring a peacock feather onstage or wear costumes of blue and silver or the colour green. Always leave the dressing room left foot first. Do not knit in the wings. Do not burn three candles at the same time during rehearsal or performance. And never, ever, ever say the last line of the play before opening night.

But do I believe all this?

I believe that we create energy – good or bad, and it’s better to create than to destroy. I believe Theatre is a colossal and noble tradition that is greater than you and I, and as such, it is something worthy of our collective honour. Yes, I believe in the traditions – whether they are the superstitions practiced for hundreds of years, or the personal traditions every actor and director creates for himself.

I always wear black on opening night. I have one other personal tradition – a ritual I’ve shared with each and every one of my companies over the years. Before every show, the cast and crew, sit in a large circle holding hands. Together, in unison, we recite:

The Theatre is Magic

The Magic is Theatre

May the Blessed Magic Begin.

Tradition. What a magnificent magnifier, indeed!

To read John Lithgow’s article:

http://theater.nytimes.com/2013/01/13/theater/john-lithgows-discovery-at-britains-national-theater.html?_r=0&adxnnl=1&smid=fb-share&adxnnlx=1358609396-H8iHyTPPSF2RF3N0Xfg4T

Auditions, Monologues, Music & Me

Posted on January 17, 2013 by admin

It’s been a quite a while since I last posted an entry. Toward the end of last year, I was totally consumed with completing the onerous Teacher Resource document for our textbook Rattling the Stage. Both the book and TR are now available and can be purchased online at http://www.mcgrawhill.ca/school/explore/9780071066983/ilit+rattling+the+stage:+a+collection+of+monologues,+spoken+word,+and+short+plays/ One of our iLit series was made into an iBook with Apple, and plans are underway to do the same with the rest of the series.

I’m currently directing a new play for the New Ideas Festival: http://www.alumnaetheatre.com/ideas.html Pieces of Penelope, was written by Gina Femia from New York and selected by the festival jury. I am incredibly fortunate to have been matched with my first choice of plays (there are twelve productions and three readings over a three week period in March.) After I made my submission, I realized that I had chosen what may be the most complex and challenging of all the plays. Nonetheless, it was the lyricism and theatricality that attracted me. Gina’s writing is somewhat reminiscent of Sarah Ruhl’s Eurydice; it is a mixture of “feminist and fabulist”. Auditions and callbacks were intense. There was so much talent, Robin Munro my AD and I were able to fully focus on finding precisely the right actor for each role. Casting will be announced in the next few days and rehearsals begin February 1st. I’m also so thrilled that classical composer Alan Torok will be creating an original score for the piece.

Yesterday I received two completely different calls about the same topic. The first call was from an actor we called back for Pieces of Penelope. She asked for constructive criticism regarding her audition. She’s already an experienced and trained actor but is sincerely interested in getting feedback to help her further develop her auditioning skills. Too few actors have the resolve and courage to ask for criticism. The second was a call initiated from an email from a total stranger. She was a parent who’d googled information about auditioning for the Claude Watson Arts Program and found my website. I was so excited to hear that people are finding the site (it doesn’t take much to excite me) that I happily answered all her questions about the program and the auditions. The most important thing I could tell both parties was to ENJOY. If you as an actor can find joy in your audition – even when delivering a dark monologue – you’ll be so much more interesting, alive and vibrant.

Last week I submitted my first “pitch” to direct a play that goes up in the summer. I don’t want jinx myself but I fell in love with the writing which (ironically) happens to be the very antithesis of Pieces of Penelope. This is a play with men, about men, for men. It is dark, violent and at times, savagely funny. I would LOVE to work on it for that very reason and I hope the pitch will convince the producer and playwright that adding my feminine insights and instincts to such a testosterone-driven work is exactly what is needed. My creative juices are flowing and my fingers and toes are all crossed.

Finally I had the pleasure meeting with the founders of Eclat Arts http://eclat-arts.com/ This is a private summer school studio offering enriched credit courses for impassioned drama students. Unlike many other summer school programs and camps, Michael Laidlaw and Mary Barnes Amoroso have created a conservatory program with high standards and high expectations and also a substantial number of scholarships and bursaries available. For those interested, courses include playwriting, improvisation and acting, Director’s Craft, and a Production course. Their creative board, teaching and guest artist roster contains some of the finest theatre artists in the city including Fiona Boyd, Cameron Porteus and Andrew Lamb. I’m very proud to join up with Eclat ensemble and very much look forward to working with them and their students in the summer.

Before I retired I was afraid I’d no longer have the opportunities to exercise my artistic chops. As the saying goes, use it or lose it. I couldn’t have been more wrong. There’s nothing like jumping out of one’s little pond and diving head first into another one that’s bigger and deeper. I’m so looking forward to working on these projects and many others throughout the year. I wish you the same.

Happy new year!

So Where Did November Go?

Posted on November 22, 2012 by admin

Here I am at the end of November saying, “Huh?!? Where did all the time go?”

Last week I taught a workshop on How to Write a 10 Minute Play. As an experiment, every activity in the workshop lasted exactly ten minutes (and yes, I used my timer on my iPhone 5 to ensure exactly ten minutes). The students did a 10 minute warm-up, I gave a 10 minute intro,the 24 of them pitched their play ideas 10 times to 10 directors (60 seconds each), followed by a 10 minute writing session of their opening scene, 10 minutes to rehearse, 10 minutes of performances, and finally 10 minutes of debriefing after each activity. The point was to feel how short and how long 10 minutes can be. As expected some of these 10 minute segments were far too short, and others were painfully long.

It’s been almost 10 months since I retired. Since then I trekked through jungles and cloud forests, rappelled down waterfalls, and drank beer while sitting in hot springs in Costa Rica. I dog-sat three chihuahuas in San Francisco, made friends with tattooed ex-cons at the Delancy Street Project, and did a Thelma and Louise road trip around the rest of the state of California. Our textbook entitled Rattling the Stage, was published. I attended four days of intense workshops at Directors Lab North. I joined a company of transmedia story-tellers via The Mission Business and performed with them in an extended five month theatrical adventure including at the Toronto Fringe, Nuit Blanche and the Evergreen Brickworks. I was a caretaker-turned-chief-of-a-militia in an end-of-the world-apocalyptic-pandemic-with-interactive-audience-and-online-followers scenario. That was fun. I wrote a play. I met at a speed-dating match up with new playwrights in order to direct a show for the New Ideas Festival next March. I got my website (www.janetkish.ca) set up. I started this blog. I designed and now have my very own business cards and I guess my own freelance business as an independent artist. I am writing a curriculum support document for our book that will be finished by the next few week (hallelujah for that!) I got my NEXUS card and drove to Buffalo just to have lunch. I adjudicated a Canadian play festival and have agreed to adjudicate for Sears Drama Festival in early 2013. I started teaching master class workshops. I joined Eclat-Arts to be a guest artist next July. I began privately coaching young actors who plan to audition for post-secondary theatre schools. I’ve reconnected with many former students who are all grown up, long lost friends and relatives who I hadn’t seen in years. I’m taking pottery classes and went to a firing range with real live zombie hunters to learn how to shoot guns. Huzzah! I’ve applied for multiple opportunities to participate in theatre festivals and labs across North America and have begun to receive my “Thank you, but no thank you letters.” I went to a wedding of the daughter of a good friend of I’ve known since she was a baby and watched proudly as her mother and her father walked her down the aisle. Last week, I attended a memorial of another friend who died unexpectedly and far too young.

I’m alive. I’m living. Time is precious.

Gun Clubs, Zombie Hunters, Pandemics, Character Dates and All Those Charming Things

Posted on September 26, 2012 by admin

My life is beautiful.

Retirement is an adventure.

Tomorrow, in the middle of the day, a Thursday no less, I will go to a real live shooting range. I didn’t actually realize this was something on my bucket list until my ZED.TO directors asked me if I was interested in a (live ammo) target practice. Their method to the madness is that this will be yet another “character date” (our version of rehearsals) for my character Renata to bond with members of the Zombie Squad. http://zombie.wikia.com/wiki/Zombie_Squad These guys are real live zombie hunters and disaster prep experts and will be Renata’s security detail at Nuit Blanche. “Yes, yes, YES!” I responded without thinking twice.

HUZZAH! I get to play with guns and the bad boys.

Nuit Blanche comes this Saturday night (September 29), and ByoLogyc’s Clinic will be handing out free antidotes to the deadly virus that’s now rampant in the streets of Toronto post Toronto Fringe Festival. Renata has recently been promoted to Chief of the newly formed SCD (Sanitation and Containment Department) and she will be responsible for keeping back the angry occupiers known as the EXE along with the help of the Zombie Squad. Renata has done her due diligence on some of those protesters, and she knows for a fact they’re a crazy bunch of lefty pinkos!

Ironically, the Clinic will be held at Holy Trinity Church (behind the Eaton Center) so if the antidotes don’t work, hopefully prayers will. Or maybe, they won’t……

We will find out what happens on November 2nd and 3rd at the “apocalyptic finale” where pandemic survivors, VIP’s and the desperate staff members of ByoLogyc will decide the outcome of the world as we now know it. ZED.TO has won rave reviews as the most exciting interactive event to ever hit Toronto – but you need to take the plunge and take the free antidote….and become a VIP or an EXE…… and for heaven’s sake, buy tickets for the grand finale – which are now on sale at http://www.zed.to/tickets

P.S. Buy the “Power Tickets” and join Renata’s army. We will take control!

A Life, Deconstructed

Posted on August 12, 2012 by admin

One year ago, I was running our final dress rehearsals for The Dreamcatchers; after which, all the scenery, costumes, makeup, gobos, gels, CD’s and toolboxes were to be packed into nineteen rather large suitcases. The beautiful Jiibay sticks had to be cut in three pieces in order to fit, and the holster, gun, billy sticks, sixteen O.P.P. caps and the hangman’s noose were lovingly bubble-wrapped. After almost two years of intense planning, promoting, politicking, fund-raising, creating, and rehearsing, this was a true labour of love. We were taking our devised and very Canadian theatre piece to Scotland, to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe – the mecca for all theatre practitioners. My people. My tribe.

I joked that this play would be my swan song. I didn’t realize, to a certain degree, it actually was.

I was 57 years old and had been teaching secondary school Drama in Toronto since 1979. During that time, I taught thousands and thousands of teenagers, some of whom would grow up to be doctors, lawyers, scientists, engineers, architects, bankers, professors, carpenters, plumbers, truck-drivers and every imaginable work position that is out there. More than a few, I’m proud to say, actually went on to become successful actors, writers, designers, directors and filmmakers.

I am one of the lucky ones. I love teaching. I love theatre. And, I loved sharing that love and respect for the arts with my students. Actually, it’s more than that. Theatre is my passion and obsession. Not only was I teaching drama during school hours, I was spending my evenings and weekends directing and producing. A sixty hour week was the norm, and a hundred hour week was not unheard closer to opening night. The best hours were those on the Saturdays and Sundays, or the late cold Monday nights in December when we could get lost in the folds and wrinkles of figuring out how to make that scene work, how to find just the right energy for that character, or how accidentally, we’d discover footlights gelled purple can create just the right tones of magic and shadows of mystery. Summers and holidays were invested in writing new plays, another obsessive-compulsive love. For a teacher in Ontario, extra-curricular activities and time are given freely, there is no compensation whatsoever. If you are involved in the theatre you understand why we spend so much time doing what we do; most people, however, believe, we’re certifiably nuts.

One would think a fire can only burn so intensely for so long before it extinguishes itself.

The longer I worked and the older I became, the more immersed I was. Teaching though, started to change, or at least the board politics became more complex over the years. Earlier in my career, I had become a department head in the east end of Toronto. I actually hate administrative work, and I wasn’t planning to climb the edu-ladder. Nonetheless, I did want to have a voice in the direction and shape of the program. I spent fifteen years developing a drama program that was recognized provincially for excellence of curriculum and outstanding productions. Eventually, I moved to a performing arts school where I was the Curriculum Leader of the Arts. At this school, students are required to audition and it has an excellent reputation for attracting those who are academically and artistically “gifted”. The parents are committed in providing their children with enriched opportunities. The environment there is exciting, vibrant, alive and throbbing with creative energies. It also happens to be exhausting to work there, and filled with never-ending pressures and deadlines.

Time flies. Just when I acclimatized to the culture and tempo of the new school, I went through almost four years of hell. A series of personal crises occurred: the palliative care and death of a close family member; my diagnosis of a debilitating autoimmune disease; then, another diagnosis, far more frightening and serious than the first; and finally, a long and painful recovery from thoracic surgery. I returned to work after three months sick leave to discover I was eligible to retire the following month – February 2009. Instead, I jumped right back into the swamp. I wrote a new play, ran morning rehearsals at seven, and evening ones that ran until ten at night. Three weeks after my return, Before the After Party a show about mortality, performed at a competition where it was chosen as the Outstanding Production to be featured at the Regional Showcase. I did my best to catch up with administrative work piled up in my absence, and to re-establish the flow with my classes – who basically had been on a hiatus from the time I was gone. I couldn’t yet climb a flight of stairs post surgery, but I returned to the sixty hour work week. I was not going to leave the job I loved with my tail between my legs. As a matter of fact, for the next two years, I truly believed I would keep doing what I loved so profoundly, until I dropped dead in the wings.

That brings us back to The Dreamcatchers. Creating and watching it come to fruition on the Edinburgh stage, both consumed and satiated me. It was as if I had arrived at my destination. As an educator, I had done all that needed to be done, and given all I had to give. I found it difficult to return to the same old, same old. That spring I’d been asked to work on a new drama textbook with McGraw-HIll Ryerson and their iLit series. Not only did they want me to be part of the team, but also to help promote the book after it was published, by providing workshops for teachers and students. The publishing world is completely alien to me, but I couldn’t turn down the chance to do something new, and to actually contribute to an educational project that is so innovative and visionary. I agreed, even though this was significantly inflating my already too heavy workload.

I was over-worked. I was tired.

Fast-forward to Thanksgiving weekend 2011. I woke up that Saturday morning upset, worrying and stressing about some administrative problem that seemed very significant at the time, but honestly it’s something I now consider to be trivial. As I kept turning the problem in my head, that morning, I had a flash of insight, an epiphany, an aha moment, if you will…… and, I knew exactly what to do. Could it be that simple? What would happen to me? How could I survive without? I mused for the next two days about my options, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized, this was the right thing to do.

It was.

On Monday, October 10, 2011 I typed up by notice of retirement and resignation letter. I handed it to the principal the next day. After thirty-three and a half years, I would soon be retired from teaching and my life as I knew it.

February 1st, 2012 was the beginning of my new existence. I’ve had to deconstruct all the parts of my life since then, and now I’m beginning to put some of them back together again. There have been moments of tears, and other moments of rue, but mostly there has been laughter, adventure, new friends and new experiences. I’m learning about myself and all the things that really matter. I’m creating a new life. I’m creating the new me.

Oh, the drama!

Oh, The Drama!

Hello! Welcome to my musings.

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