I hate the bank I hate the bank I hate the bank...

I don't understand what's going on in this world, when a bank that makes billions of dollars in profits every year can't reimburse an actor, who makes about $10 000 a year, the $2000 that was stolen from her account.

What's the big fucking deal? To them, it's a measly 2 grand. To me, it's 1/5 of my yearly income. It's the difference between being able to pay rent and being fucked up the ass. It's the difference between having a semi-decent low-income existance and getting fucked up the ass, screwed into the dust, while dancing bank trolls gleefully sing the Happy Bank Song about a girl who gets FUCKED UP THE ASS!

The CEO of the Bank of Montreal could probably hand me $2000 cash OUT OF HIS POCKET right now. He probably blows that much on one business lunch. Me, it means I can't go see a dance show I really want to see. I can't pay rent in Toronto for a couple months. I can't throw $1000 at my friend's theatre company so that we can tour on the Fringe this summer.

Well, I guess that's not quite true. I'll hopefully find a way to do all these things. I am lucky to have a roof over my head, rent-free for now, to have a well paying job that will help me get through this, and to have parents who will take pity on me and maybe even help me out a little. A little more. Than they already have, which is a fuck of a lot. I am wayyyy better off than a lot of people in this world. I count my blessings every day. Or at least I try to.

But that doesn't change the fact that I GOT SCREWED OUT OF TWO GRAND and the fucking bank is trying to tell me I'm somehow responsible. And I guess they're right. I didn't protect my PIN well enough. Lesson learned. Thank fucking Christ they didn't take more. But TWO GRAND. I could have gone to Europe for two months. I could have gone to Thailand for two YEARS. I could have put it into my RRSP. I could have started a fund for a down payment on my first house. I could have blown it all on beer, which is probably what I would have done. But still, it was MY MONEY!!!

I HATE THE BANK AND THEIR FUCKING BANK TROLLS, THANKS FOR FUCKING ME UP THE ASS, YOU FUCKING FUCKERS!! FUCK!!!

Thank You, Jacques d'Amboise

I just re-watched a documentary that my parents taped for me about 20 years ago. It's about Jacques d'Amboise and his National Dance Institute, a program that goes into schools and teaches dance to kids, ending with huge spectacular shows, involving thousands of kids, that he calls "The Event of the Year."

It's basically Trickster - an artist in residency program that I do - but all dance instead of theatre, and, if it's possible, on an even bigger scale. When I was a kid I used to love to watch that documentary, I watched it over and over. I never wanted to be a teacher, I wasn't interested in that side of it. I was interested in the experience of the kids, who were so like me. I took part in big dance shows as a kid, and I remember the experience of being a part of that group, of feeling the theatre fill with the energy of a hundred other kids, and the energy of the parents who want to see their kids be amazing (and are never disappointed).

At the beginning of a Trickster week, when I may be leading, and coordinating all the logistics for the week, plus being responsible for liaising with the parent volunteers, and coordinating my team to set up all the equipment, I barely have brain capacity to devote to the running of my three or more workshops. And yet that's what it's supposed to all be about. It makes the beginning of weeks so stressful for me, and makes me question whether I'm in the right profession.

But by Thursday, when it starts to come together, and you feel that magic in the air, as the kids start to take the ball and run with it, take the responsibility away from us, and take it on themselves. As they start to know what's about to happen and they start to feel that same magic I felt as a kid, which made me go into the arts, that's when the job seems worth it to me. I remember even as a very young child being moved by the moments in that documentary where it's almost show time, and Jacques is going around giving last minute words of wisdom to all his thousands of kids, and he tells them to have fun out there. Those are the moments that make the job a privilege and a joy. It's so easy to forget those in the stress of early mornings, late nights, pressure to make everyone happy, and my own exhaustion. But I hope, when I plunge back into school next week, I can take a little of that boundless energy of Jacques, a little of the joy and the selflessness, and remember what it was like when I first heard him say "You cannot fail if you've done your best." It sounds corny, because I've heard it so many times, but I always forget that it may be the first time a child has heard it. And here's Jacques, who's built a life and a legacy out of that one idea. And enriched the lives of millions of children in the process.

I am privileged to do what I do. It's not easy, and it's not even always fun. But in the words of one of Jacques' kids, "It always leads to fun."

It's Over

Well, I guess I learned the lesson that it's not enough to just have love. You have to have enough love to make your product good. The experience of performing at a wedding (especially a 4 hour wedding), was one of my more difficult moments onstage. I think it went okay, I think some of it was good, but I know it could have been a lot better. But then, it seemed to me that everybody kind of felt like that. I talked to people who gave speeches and said, "I shouldn't have said this," or "I should have done that". I guess in a situation like that, when there are so many emotions flying around and so much pressure to do or say something that's both meaningful and entertaining, a lot of us will never feel like we got it quite right. We can't possibly express everything we mean to. The people who did that the best last night were the ones who couldn't make it through their speeches without crying. Tears say more than any amount of words. But even the people who cried were probably embarassed about crying. You can't win at a wedding. Unless you're the bride. Or groom. But then they are so exhausted, emotionally, physically, they can't really enjoy the experience. At least that's my perception. I was so freakin' tired, I can't imagine the experience of going through the emotional rollercoaster, performing an ancient rite that will change your lives forever, and then sitting on uncomfortable chairs and trying to watch a show. My mind would not be on what I was seeing. It'd be going, "What just happened tonight? What was that?" Then it'd be going, "Sleep. Let me sleeeeep." Not the best state of mind to see a wacky show, even if it's in your honour.

I don't know. Weddings are weird. It was good, don't get me wrong. I liked all the speeches, and all the performances. But there was an odd balance of ritual and theatre, and nobody I think was really certain which side of the line they should be on. If that makes sense.

But you know what? It was not boring. I'd rather be at that wedding any time than at one where solemnity and ceremony rule the day, and everything is done by the rule book. That wedding was honest and true and real, and all of us breathed through it together, the good, the bad, the awkward, the beautiful, the joy and the sorrow. If that's not the way to send two people into their marriage, I don't know what is.

May we all be the guardians of the truth for Bruce and Rebecca for all time. And may they do the same for each other.

K

Pre-Wedding Jitters (of a guest)

It's 1:30 am. I should be resting up for tomorrow, or at least learning my lines for Bruce and Rebecca's wedding show. Lindsey and I are performing a scene from Twelfth Night - the play, according to Jamie, they were doing when they started dating... or just before they starting dating... not too sure. Anyway, even if the play had nothing to do with them, the scene is pretty perfect for their wedding. It's between Viola and Feste, the Clown - guess which one Bruce played. There's all kinds of great lines in there, like "she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married." Hah? Hah?

We have to try and do it "in clown" cause that's what everyone thinks we're doing at this thing. We're the clown portion of the show. I'm totally nervous about it. We're doing clown versions of them - I'm playing Bruce, Lindsey's Rebecca. I have to get a mustache tomorrow. Talk about last minute. But then, Rebecca wrote that she hadn't even written her vows as of yesterday, so I guess I'm not doing too badly. I guess the thing to remember is that it's not about me, it's a show for them. But that makes me wonder, if it's enough about them? I hope so. What type of material is appropriate for a wedding show? I've only ever been to regular weddings.

Anyway, I was reading Rebecca's blog, which inspired me a lot. I'm amazed by her ability to write about anything and everything that's on her mind, and then send it out there - judging by some of the comments she gets, a lot of people that read her blog have never even met her - and yet they read about her life and take their own ideas and thoughts away - like I'm doing right now.

I've never known Rebecca very well, I'm more from the Bruce clan, so it's interesting on the eve of their wedding to find out so much about the woman I've always thought was smart, strong and talented, but known very little else of her. I've always been in awe of Bruce's wisdom and bravery, and now I'm really in awe of both of them. They are two incredible people and they deserve each other.

Why am I writing this? I won't be speaking at the wedding tomorrow, I will be expressing my love to them through Shakespeare's words, not my own. I will be attempting, once again, to use my chosen art form to try and convey something beyond what I could ever define in a mere speech. But this time the stakes are so much higher. There will be no critics in the audience, no-one from an awards nominating committee... it doesn't matter whether my work is "good". All that is required of me, or of any of us performing tomorrow, is that our work be generated through the purest of motives - love. If we succeed at love tomorrow, we will have done all we can.

Happy Day, B & R.

Love, Kate