The Creative Future

Barbara: I was born in the sixties and grew up in the seventies. They’re always looking for an apt moniker for my generation—we’re too young to be Boomers and too old to be X-ers. What are we in a nutshell? I think we were the first generation to be the You Can Have It All-ers, or the Don’t Do Anything You Don’t Love-ers. We were raised to believe that we could and should follow our dreams. I suffered no obstacles growing up and choosing acting as my university degree and then my career. No one wanted to see me or my peers pursue anything we didn’t love, to see us stuck—like so many before us—in boring, soul-sucking jobs. Call us Generation Maybe: maybe we can do it, maybe we can’t.

Because, of course, reality hits and many of us found ourselves needing to balance our talents and dreams with the drudgery of paying bills and sending our own kids into their bright futures. Getting the balance right between love and necessity has been excruciating at times. Do you still tell your kids they can do anything they want? And how many of those kids now struggling with failing worldwide economies will give up on creative lives, and how many of them are destined to be the future of our creative culture? Our writers, our philosophizers, our artists, our dancers, singers, musicians. You know, those people who make life worth living, who bring it its poetic beauty, its incomparable ability to turn a mirror on life and say: Yes, this is what it looks like if you step back a bit; this is your tragedy, your struggle, your strength, your frustration, your petty greed, your jealousy, your epic courage.

Maybe it’s my own life experience that wants to play this rather sobering thought against an amazing experience I had a couple of weeks ago on a film set. This production is the best possible example of how we can support the creative geniuses of tomorrow. As an added bonus, it nurtures those geniuses who come from at-risk backgrounds and who might never otherwise have the chance to explore—and then discover—their unique voices.

The REMIX Project is a non-profit organization (recently awarded Best Youth Organization by Toronto’s Now Magazine) that dedicates itself to bringing the arts to young people from disadvantaged backgrounds and neighbourhoods, offering them the chance to explore their talents and skills in a safe, nurturing environment. And most importantly, developing those skills so that these young people can have a serious foothold in the business of the arts. Their City Life Film Project is the component that deals with film and, together with Temple Street Productions, they provide not just the training but the mentors and the equipment and the extensive crew that filmmakers need to bring their visions to the screen. Participants have to apply to get into the program and are chosen based on their storytelling skills, and then after a 3-month intensive, three projects are chosen for production.

I had the incredible honour of working with one of these brilliant voices of tomorrow. Kimberly wrote the script loosely based on a day in her own life when, as a lonely, disenfranchised 14-year-old girl, her mother had a postpartum breakdown. A 15-minute short, it goes from scary to heartbreaking with breathtaking speed. There were only four of us as actors on set: the one playing the child, the one playing the mother, one as the stepfather, and myself as the doctor. Kim had to not only create a visual story through the camera, but she also had to take the actors deep into the heart of her real-life crisis.

We actors had to find gut connections to this story and convey them in an honest and soul-baring way. This is not an easy task for an actor. It might seem so, but it takes an enormous amount of trust and courage. Kim, barely 20-years-old, actually took our hands and expertly guided us into the mire. She was articulate, passionate, compelling and direct. In all my years on a set, I’ve rarely worked with a director I trusted as much as I trusted her. I knew if she didn’t see it on-screen, she wouldn’t be shy to tell us we needed to go “150%”. I’ve also never worked with a director who so directly related to their on-screen story that each creative discussion and each scene ended with their face bright and open, tears rolling down their cheeks, heartfelt expressions of gratitude or wisdom or personal confession pouring from their mouth. They talk about the directors who get naked with their actors for a love scene; this director got emotionally naked with us—and yet never forgot to do her very difficult job as a director. Kim has it all.

At the end of the day, I did what I do repeatedly with my own kids: I told Kim—despite every indication that it is a an exercise in futility to be an artist—to keep following her dream, to never let anyone tell her that a young black woman couldn’t/shouldn’t direct, to keep telling her stories.

Maybe in life, we can’t do what we want to do all the time because of bills and obligations. Maybe we have to get a “joe-job” or even a good one but one that doesn’t feed the soul. Maybe we will feel frustrated because we can’t be full-time artists. But maybe, just maybe, we have to keep forging ahead with our stories (or music or paintings or ideas) in every other moment there is. It would be a terrible shame and loss for all of us to lose even one Kim to “cold, hard” reality.

Thanks to organizations like REMIX for allowing these dreams to breathe and grow.

Deb: This is such a fascinating subject, Barb. On a personal level, the only way I can relate to it is through the boy. The boy who wanted to be a surrealist when he was twelve. We encouraged him. When he was thirteen and wanted to be an actor, he asked us what it would be like to be an actor in the theatre. We said, “If that is what you live for, then the art on your wall might be the posters from your shows and your passion can be the fact that you get up each day and get to do what you love. If for any reason you have the desire for stuff—houses, belongings and the ilk—then you might want to match your dreams to a dollar sign. But make sure they are still your dreams.”

I think each generation has a share of this. I was born in 1954 and my parents supported me 100%.  I think there were parents through the 60’s, earlier, and right on down the line who did not support this theory, but I think there were many, including my parents, who did. There were also artists who became same despite their parents. It is the way of the world. Your parents are artists so it was a no-brainer for them, and lucky for you.

Your experience on this recent set was a game-changer and I think that is FABULOUS FOR YOU!

But, despite all the evidence to the contrary, I side with you and with the Kim’s of the world.

Follow your Dreams. Life is short. Life can be sweet. But follow your dreams. It is essential to survival. 

Making Magic And Believing In It

Barbara: So, yes, we shot our demo pilot on Wednesday and it was wonderful! Cannot even begin to describe the wondrousness of it. We promised you photos and here they are. But I also wanted to expound a bit (a very tiny bit) on the whole “making your dream come true” thing. Man, it takes a lot of work and prep and tenacity and commitment and optimism and courage to do it, but most of all, MOST of all, it takes a village to raise a dream. Without our army of likeminded, dedicated, hard-working, imaginative, and creative dreamers, Deb and I would never ever have had our dream come true. All day, I couldn’t help marveling at this barefaced fact. Deb was marveling too. We would routinely, throughout the day, look at each other in wonder and amazement. We are eternally grateful to all who came aboard our project and helped to realize it.

But there’s also the other side of the whole process: the questioning, the insecurity, the second-guessing, the fatigue. And the next day you wake up and you kinda feel like you’ve been through a tornado: exhilarated and invigorated, but also unable to stop wondering, “What the hell actually happened out there?!” The thing about dreams is that very often they feel like … well, like dreams. Did it really happen? Was it as good as I thought? Is life in any way … different because a miracle just happened?

In my experience, I have never been able to have the glory of the one hand without the anxiety of the other. Have you? Is it possible? Or are we just hardwired to be faithful skeptics?!

Deb: Well, I can only second what Barb said. It was a tiny little miracle this day. Yes, it’s true that when we did the postmortem the next day we were brimming with things we might have done or could have done or might have changed or had regrets about. But the truth, the real truth, is that THIS is the creative process. The fact that we were given this opportunity was the gift. The rest is not even worth the paper to wrap it in. We are proud. Beyond that, we will see. 

Deb and Barb Have A Three-Way (a best friend might be involved)

Deb and Barb Have A Three-Way With Cheryl

The Open Door Policy

Our lovely Cheryl

Cheryl: Thanks to Barb and Deb for asking me out to play. Any qualms I may ever have had about blogdom have been put aside by my stroked ego. Suddenly baring my soul to masses of unknown and possibly scary strangers (I still harbour boogeyman trepidation) lost its power when two actual writers whom I respect thought enough of me to invite me aboard their baby.

Which brings me to my theme: walking through the open door. 

I’ve come to believe that, whenever what we’re “supposed” to do is as clear as mud, all we need do is wait to see what the universe offers up. All the planning, capitulation, and manipulation with which I’ve ever forced my will has brought me … I start to say “aggravation”, but will go the high road and use “hard-learned lessons”.  But when I centre myself and look for the opportunities that present themselves, having faith that they will serve my greater good, perhaps not comfort but good, I can at this point in my life go with the flow. There was a time––a long time––when, if a plan had been made, even just a thought had been thought, come hell or high water I would make sure that it came to fruition. It never occurred to me that, just maybe, what I perceived as an unwelcome interruption or a dastardly detour might offer a happier road, a new insight, some growth, a new friend even.

Twenty-four years ago I fell in love with a man. I had always been peeking around emotional corners to find the someone whom I would recognize emotionally and spiritually as THE ONE and there he was. My One and Only. I recognized him in the deepest part of me. But there were hurdles to overcome. Scary hurdles. Hurdles that stoked my deepest fears.

The universe had gone to great lengths to get our paths to cross. A series of “coincidences” had contrived to open a door to this new relationship. Would I let my fear walk me away from that door?.......

When I was in Grade Six I had the scariest teacher in the school––old Mrs. Wheeler (originally Miss Pea, but Mr. Wheeler scooped up that cranky gal late in life). I was a shy and timid child, but one day I found myself standing up in front of the whole class telling Mrs. Wheeler that I thought she was being unfair to another student. I peed my pants as I was saying it but say it I did. Courage at its … wettest.

Anyway, that same courage is often necessary to walk through open doors. I didn’t want, at the end of my days, to wonder what might have been if I’d walked through that open door to my soulmate. So I summed up that pee-as-you-go courage and walked through the door of opportunity to what, yes, would be some rough times but would end up being the wondrous and definitely meant-to-be marriage we have today and for which I’m so grateful.  

I find the open door policy works for issues far less significant than finding my life partner too. I find those open doors in the daily crossing of paths, in the snatches of conversation that stick with and inspire me, in the page a book opens to. Every day, everywhere. Although admittedly mixing metaphors, this poem I’ve kept since my teen years and which I had read at our wedding puts it well:

Beyond

Ahead of me,

branching from the path,

a new one begins,

slender thread climbing steep

to curve off

among trees.

Everything in me

cautions: keep straight

to the well-worn trail

which can’t lead you

too far wrong.

But I find myself

shedding all doubts

in the way my back bends

to take the rough tilt

of the hill, by the way

my muscles strain

near the top – all of me

so eager

for what lies beyond.

––Raymond Souster

Deb: I have seen that peeing courage in Cheryl many times as she is always one to stand up for the downtrodden. Hopefully she pees in her mind now, not in her pants. Cheryl and I have grown together in friendship since we were eighteen and in theatre school. Outside of our children and husbands, we have been each other's rock, sounding board, sister, advisor and loving friend.

There was a time, only once, years ago where we had a falling out. As I look back on that time, I see how complicated and painful it was for both of us. I see the worst parts of my younger self, the scared and insecure part and the memory of that time shames me. I thought our friendship was done. Both of us did, and during those dark days of our crisis, I was lost and so was Cheryl. But we could not find our way back to each other. We were young so we did not have the tools that experience brings to communicate and work through it all like we do now. (Points for aging!) We were far too young to know that there were much worse things to come in our young lives and that looking back, this would seem like a blip on the radar screen. 

But at the time, it seemed like the worse thing that would ever happen to us. What could be worse than this? Then suddenly,  Cheryl lost her dear darling grandfather, her Gaggy, whom I also knew and loved.

It was a horrible loss to everyone but Gaggy gave us a gorgeous gift with his heartbreaking departure. He brought us back together. He brought us back without fanfare, or drama. Cheryl simply picked up the phone and called me, her voice wrenching out through tears.  "Gaggy's gone."  And we were one again.

I stood by her during that time and not a word of our falling out was uttered. We simply went back to doing what we do best. Loving and caring for each other. The day before Gaggy died I was weeping by myself in my tiny bachelor apartment thinking  "I cannot believe our friendship is over". I needn't have worried. The universe had other plans. Sometimes the universe is very smart.

Barbara: Wow, Deb, what a stunning story of the power of a friendship that was meant to be (the “friend for life” in that old saying: a friend for a reason, a season, or for life). And wow, Cheryl. First of all, just how beautifully expressed is this? And secondly, you’ve put into words (utterly gorgeous words) my own sense of purposeful wandering. I too am a go-getter, a make-things-happen-as-much-as-you-can type of person. But life keeps insisting that it has other plans for me—good plans, better ones.

I had a horrible, terrible emotional, not quite a “breakdown” but something akin to that, something that felt as close to a breakdown as I would let myself get, back in my mid/late-30s. It had everything to do with feeling frustrated and creatively thwarted. And you know what happened? Someone made me pick up The Artist’s Way (which, if you don’t know it, is a guide to unleashing your blocked creative juices) and I started writing again. Didn’t even know I wanted/needed to write again. And then a few years later, someone called me in for a meeting and asked me if I could be on the lookout for film scripts for them, which prompted me to question why, as an actor, I’d never tried to write a screenplay before, which prompted me to begin writing them. And then last year, a collaborator and friend basically told Deb and I to write a blog, it was the way to go. And you know what? It has all been, ALL of it, the scary, unknown, wonderful way to go.

Writing has, if not literally saved my life, certainly made it more wondrous and amazing than anything I anticipated before my crisis. As have all the other paths, aimed for and stumbled upon, that have veered me this way and that. You, Cheryl, and the lovely poem you’ve included here just perfectly capture how brave you have to be to choose life’s off-roading journeys—and how thrilling it is when you do.

Cheryl MacInnis is an actor living in Toronto with her husband and daughter, three dogs and a cat. She is co-creator and partner in Scene and Heard, Inc., a company specializing in communication and presentation coaching utilizing the actors’ training techniques as applied to the demands of the professional business arena. 

Deb and Barb Have A Three-Way

Deb and Barb Have A Three-Way With Molly

Deb and Barbara met Molly recently here on the blog. She has her own wonderful blog called Random Thoughts. Molly has become an invaluable member of our cozy community here at The Middle Ages.

Molly: I want to thank Deb and Barbara for inviting me to do a three way. I’m so honored and thrilled.

From the ages of 8-12, I was involved with a children’s theater group. I had such a wonderful time performing as a kid. What I didn’t realize then was how much being a part of that company was going to shape me into who I am now. Along with an appreciation for the theater arts, I learned two valuable lessons. I learned how to use my voice and I learned how to be comfortable in front of a crowd. While I didn’t make acting my career, (I went into Recreation Management) those two skills have really played a major role in just about every aspect of my life.

One of my many dreams has been to start my own children’s theater and introduce kids to the theater in the way it was done for me so many years ago. I’m not professional (it’s been 20 years since I did any theater) and I’m not looking to make professional kid actors. I just wanted to give some kids a chance to do something they have never done before. Doing the children’s theater was always just a dream that played around in my head and I always thought to myself, someday……

Right now, in my life, I have some free time in a way I haven’t had since my oldest son was born 13 years ago. I’d been thinking about doing this theater for years and over the last several months it was in my brain more and more. Then, through a series of events and visits with several friends, I got to thinking that maybe I could do this. I mulled it over in my head for several weeks, thinking out the plan I would need to have if I was serious about this idea. I didn’t want to tell anyone, not even my husband, until I was sure that I had thought this through.

In May, I announced Auntie M’s Children’s Theater to my family and friends and expected everyone to say, “Molly, that is the dumbest idea you have ever had.” But they didn’t. They thought it was very neat and were so supportive. I held the auditions, directed rehearsals, built the sets, and on June 17^th and 18^th, we had our performances.

Auntie M’s Children’s Theater

The kids, who ranged in age from 6-10, did great, although they had the hardest time remembering to not turn their backs to the audience. I was also very amused that they couldn’t seem to speak loudly on the stage, but as soon as rehearsal was over, they were running around yelling. Go figure.

I knew that if I didn’t do this now, I would always regret it. I had to try. If the entire thing blew up in my face and was a disaster, I could say I tried and move on with my life. However, it wasn’t a disaster. Sure, we had our moments of difficulty, but that’s all it was, a moment here and there. I loved working with the kids. It wasn’t a professional production by any means and I had to accept the fact that several of them would undoubtedly turn their backs to the audience, and they did, but it was OK.

Since the show, I’ve had a lot of people ask me if I’m going to do this again next summer. Yes I am! I can’t wait. I’ve already gotten one script written and have started a second one. So, a big thanks to all the ladies who inspired me to follow my dreams. The experience has been amazing.

Barbara: Molly, this story is so inspiring! For a few reasons actually. One, because you had such a brilliant and wonderful dream to pursue. Two, that you pursued it with such dedication, despite concerns that you might fail. And three, that you pulled it off in such a miraculously short period of time!

I think a lot of us find ourselves holding dreams that we either don’t have the courage to initiate or, if we do, then those dreams don’t have the common courtesy to come true for us!! Molly has inspired me to remember that the bottom line is that it’s about getting your hands dirty. Doing whatever needs to be done. Working your butt off toward your heartfelt goal. And not giving up if someone turns their back on you ;). Because in the end, that is the best and greatest sign of success: that you went for it. No one and nothing will hold it against you if your dream doesn’t turn out the way you’d hoped (and if someone does, well, that’s their problem). Because the truth is: NO dream can come true without someone dreaming and then actively working toward it.

Molly wrote us privately not too long ago to share her story with us. Not only did we ask her to share it with you here, but we asked if it would be okay to include a certain interesting element of that story. Molly agreed. Her email was as beautiful and inspiring as today’s post, but what stopped me in my tracks was that one of her many inspirations came from reading our three-way with Rayna of Coffee Rings Everywhere. The nutshell of that wonderful post is that present-day Rayna has an honest conversation with her younger self. Turns out this prompted Molly to ask herself what her younger self would say to her today. She realized that her younger self would want her to follow this amazing dream. Obviously, this moment was one of many dominoes that lined up to tip Molly’s resolve, but the reminder here too is that there is an amazing power in our collective ability to support each other, either knowingly or unknowingly. And for that, I am truly and utterly amazed and grateful.

Thank you, Molly, for your great story and for this wonderful reminder!

Deb: Molly, I too was so inspired by this story. I LOVE when people follow their dreams. Any dreams. All dreams. Yours is especially sweet because you didn’t have to fight tooth and nail with friends and family naysaying it. You had support. It is as if this dream was sitting here all ready to go. The universe knew it, but was just waiting for you to realize it.

A year ago my sister-in-law lost her job because the people she worked for retired and closed up shop. She is middle-aged but decided she wanted to pursue her dream of acting professionally. Some people were trying to discourage her because of her age and her lack of experience. But she wanted to give it a go. It’s so funny how people will go out of their way to tell you that you can’t, isn’t it? But I thought I don’t give a darn what her odds are and proceeded to help and encourage and foster her dream. For a while she worked with a cold-reading group and loved the creative stimulation. Sadly, time ran out and she had to take a job which she loves but is not in the arts. But no matter what, I know that she would have regretted it forever if she had not tried. GO DREAMS! DREAMS ROCK!

Molly is a stay at home mom of five children, ages 3, 5, 7, 11, and 13. In addition to raising kids, she enjoys weaving, writing on her blog Random Thoughts, is an amateur onomast, and has begun working on her Master’s degree in Library and Information Science .