Goldfinches at the feeder all the time now.  It's been quite something watching them lose their dull winter colours and get ready for spring.  The males are so vivid.  They truly are a stand-out.  Wish I had other photos to add – the pileated woodpecker who is currently appearing on a daily basis, the beaver who comes nightly, the wood ducks who are temporarily hanging out by our shores.  I say temporarily because I know this happens every year.  They come for a while on their journey somewhere and then move on.  Trouble is I don’t have a hugely superior camera which is what you really need for wildlife photography.  That and rather more patience than I have time for at the moment. 

 The Dragon’s Gold show was our finale, meaning a) that the 2011/12 2wp season is at an end; b) that we can now turn our thoughts more fully to June 16 and the day long telling of The Odyssey.  One of the things I’m finding fascinating is the way in which simply undertaking this grand adventure is sparking us to risk in all sorts of other ways.  The quirky little promo video, featuring Odysseus wandering through the streets of Ottawa, is just one example.  Then there’s the internet fundraising campaign – both of which you can explore at www.indiegogo.com/ottawastorytellers.  I know it helps that Ottawa Storytellers has some young, vibrant, savvy members and a vibrant, savvy Managing Artistic Director – Caitlyn Paxson.  Still I have a feeling we wouldn’t have come to either of these ventures before.  Could it be that Odysseus’s courage is reaching to us across the centuries, calling us to greater heights ourselves?

 The Odyssey notwithstanding I shall be traveling fairly consistently for the next two weeks.  First, I’m off to Kamloops on the TD Canada Trust Children’s Book Week Tour (http://www.bookweek.ca/).  Getting storytellers included in this annual Canadian Children’s Book Centre event is something I consider one of my major lifetime coups and I’m happy to be reaping the benefits myself now.  I’ll be including my books in my work, of course, but definitely emphasizing the storytelling, especially in folktale form. 

 What I love about the folktales as a teller is their freedom – the fact that you have to respond to emotional changes on the fly.  I just wish kids were getting exposed to this more often.  I’ve worked sometimes with extremely “reluctant readers.”  Always the told tales seem to give them an entrée into what literature might mean in their lives.  I remember once telling an Inuit story about a dog who, though he is sick and weak, persistently rescues a young girl from encroaching bears.  To be honest, I wasn’t even certain I’d captured it that well.   I still got a letter from a teenager who said, “I loved that story.  It told me it doesn’t matter how small and weak you think you are, you might be able to succeed.”

 After Kamloops, it’s the Ontario Library Association’s Forest of Reading Awards.  You can find out all about that at: www.accessola.org/.../Forest_of_Reading/.../Forest_of_Reading/Welcome.  Do awards make a difference?  This one certainly does.  The biggest thing is that it gets kids reading and talking books and it gives schools a place to focus in their literacy work.  It's also a ton of fun.

 All in all I’ll be busy so it was good to look out at lunch time and see the lake flat calm.  Calm brings reflections so I’m closing with a pic of that.  A moment of reflection for each and everyone.    

Posting some pics in case it should appear that the Two Women think of storytelling and nothing else.  How could we, when the joys of spring are all around us?  How could we not be called forth from out our doors to check on the latest buds a-bursting and shoots a-sprong?

Yesterday the first of the daffodils came into flower.  Now it seems there are more by the hour.  And, oh, the delight of finding that the cut leaf peony has once again survived the winter; that the phlox and iris and roses will in their own due time be filling the air with their scents.

There is work to be done as well.  Over the years, our willow tree has lost many weighty branches.  Too heavy to clear away?  Not if you saw off enough bits.  We are neither of us brave enough to get a chain saw but a swede saw works wonders if you go at it long enough. 

Then, there's that unsightly patch that was once the foundation for a shed.  At last, enough has rotted that the remaining timbers have been cleaned up with ease.  A rock has appeared.  Jennifer is eyeing it eagerly to see if digging would reveal more.  I am pleading for the surrounding earth to be left bare in case this might be a place where a snapping turtle would see fit to lay her eggs.  The females come into the yard each year, wandering forlornly and scrabbling at unsuitable sights.  Maybe if there was something easier for them to dig into.....

Along with the work, there's listening to the song sparrows and the phoebes; watching the loons in the mornings, hearing the frogs at night; seeing the male gold finches take on their yellow spring time hue.  All in all, we are unlikely to become totally one-track minded.  Had a hike in the hills yesterday and still need to be putting chicken wire around a slew of trees as protection against the ravages of the beaver. 

Happy spring time, one and all. 

The poster -- only in first draft, so not quite there yet.  Still coming along, as is the work of performance preparation.  Jennifer and I are now in the midst of attending small group sessions, our next-step follow-up to the two day workshop held in January for tellers, one and all (see the blog entitled Yes, It Works below). 

First -- as we get together -- come the questions.  Pronunciation is a biggie – Eurycleia?  Aeolus?  Eurymachus?  Right now it’s time management that looms largest on everyone’s horizons, however.  We have our listeners with us from 10 in the morning until 10.30 in the evening.  During that time, we’re offering eight and a half hours of telling with short breaks at the end of each one hour set and longer spaces for lunch and supper.  We simply cannot afford to go beyond our overall deadline.  That means no one – but NO ONE – can take more than their allotted portion for their piece.

Homer doesn’t make that easy.  The text is so rich, all of it has a purpose, all of it seems so necessary to the telling of the tale.  That makes cutting painful, even if it has to be done.  We have to work too with such respect.  Ultimately, the task is to cut and still leave the audience feeling that nothing has been omitted, to make sure we keep enough of the wondrous descriptions, similes, repetitions, images to communicate the fullness of the tale.  It isn’t easy but it is possible, so fear not.

Questions of cutting always lead us deeper.  Always we find ourselves talking about issues of characterization, setting, plot.  Each teller only has a part.  It’s becoming up to Jennifer and me to help each one remain in constant awareness of the whole.  Yes, Telemachus does start out in Books 1 to 4 as very much a boy, but in Book 15 he returns from his voyage of searching for his father as a man.  Yes, Odysseus leaves Troy as a “sacker of cities,” a man of war still, but he does gain in humility as all that he has is taken; as he finds himself washed up upon some foreign shore naked and near death. 

As the questions end, we begin to follow the paths opened as each teller presents the small piece of text he or she has chosen to bring.  I think we are all of us amazed at how much has been achieved by this “small piece” process.  I know the decision to work through small pieces came really out of a sense of necessity and was made with some reluctance.  I imagine the tellers were skeptical.  I know neither Jennifer nor I fully anticipated what has evolved.  We did not see as clearly as we might have how the need to look so closely at “a mere five minutes worth” would have such carry overs -- how the fact of paying attention to a ship’s beaching here would make us look at other matters of sailing; how the revelation of Odysseus’ soldier past for one of the teller would help others; how the subtleties of dialogue between a swineherd and a hero would alert us to potentials in other talk.  More then than we could have hoped, the “small pieces” are building the strength of the broad sweep. 

Biggest thrill?  The means by which everyone is growing in delight with regard to what is at hand.  I knew I wanted to do this but I did not know that it would bring me pleasure equal to anything I have felt ever in my hugely pleasurable working life.  I studied The Odyssey in university – fumbling my way through Books 5 and 6 in the original Greek.  The Odyssey was the first work we took on when we started our epic tellings almost twenty years ago at Rasputin’s Café.  I’ve come back to this great epic over and over but I’ve never before had the opportunity to work on it in the company of others so intensely or for  so long.  Doing so is like a dream beyond imagining.

News soon of promotional efforts and of how you can buy tickets.  Date and place (in case you can’t see the print on the poster): June 16 at the Fourth Stage of the National Arts Centre in Ottawa.  We know already we have one audience member making the journey from Halifax.  Truly we can say this is something no story lover will want to miss.

As if all that’s not enough? Jennifer and Katherine and I will be performing Dragon’s Gold show again in the next couple of weeks.  Full details: http://www.2wp.ca/dragons-gold/

Still, for me, the issue of violence is a difficult one.  I am working from sources collected in Norway in the nineteenth century – in times when it was apparently perfectly reasonable to have the prince lop off the villain’s head and bring it to the princess’s father as proof of success.  These are not our times, however.  I am not interested in sanitizing or Disney-fying but I am a children’s writer and it is part of my job to recognize that the lessons being offered to young people now are not necessarily the same as they were then. 

I am totally committed to the idea that the trolls must be conquered and convincingly so.  I remember a friend telling me that as a child she was always much more frightened of the versions of Red Riding Hood that allowed the wolf simply to run off into the forest.  She was always so certain he would come back. 

I am happy to give young readers the satisfaction of rejoicing in the knowledge that those who have done foul deeds may fall to their deaths in chasms; they may be turned to stone; they may be shattered into a million pieces.  I still cannot reconcile myself to that head, however (although oddly enough I have no problem with the fact that the troll hag who carries her head under her arm is tricked into dropping it so that it rolls away). 

I absolutely cannot include an episode in which the hero must beat his beloved with sticks on their wedding night to break the enchantment under which she is held.  I’ve heard all too many instances of abuse dealt out for someone’s supposed “own good” to go along with that. 

But…but…but…  The story (called “The Companion” in Pantheon’s Norwegian Folktales) has many layers and complexities.  I like it.  I think it works perfectly if that beating is left out.

So…. What I’m trying for is something more nuanced and selective; something that leaves the violence less raw.  I know not everyone will agree with this approach but – as I’m sure I’ve said before --  I do believe that the traditional tales have always been subject to shifts and changes.  I am convinced, in fact, this flexibility is the very element that has given them their vitality over all these years.

I also know I’m just one person.  I’m not Disney.  I don’t have that much power.  Another part of my job is to take risks.  I guess that’s what I’m doing.  I’m trusting in the universe to bring forth others who will put out different versions if mine do not seem right.  The big thing does not alter.  The big thing is finding means to ensure that the traditional stories continue to have a place in our world. 

Snow is going fast now.  The rock outside my window is emerging.  Water lies in puddles on the lake ice.  Yesterday, I saw a song sparrow.  Here’s hoping he hasn’t come back too soon. 

February 26, 2012

To whom it may concern:

The ancient art of storytelling seems to be experiencing a revival in recent years.  Beginning in the fall of last year, I’ve become acquainted with the work of 2wp (2 women productions) in bringing storytelling to Eastern Ontario.  I’ve attended 4 different performances during the last half year and I’ve been struck by the brilliant and unusual nature of all of them.  They have been variously haunting, mysterious, moving, hilarious, intelligent and thought-provoking.  Oh, and furthermore, I should also say inspiring.  These are shows where the mind is engaged and you must be ready to think.  The material is serious and entertaining, and very well-crafted, which I personally find a very refreshing change from much of the theatre in this area which tends to compromise art for the sake of entertainment.

In some cases, the stories are told by the two women themselves; in others, the storytellers are brought in by 2wp; and in one case, 2wp helped the storyteller write and develop the work.  What I find interesting is that various themes seem to run through all the performances, and I can’t help but think that this is the careful work of the two women.  Themes like valuing and preserving things ancient and traditional from the onslaught of modernity, celebrating the beauty and mystery of language and the struggle of the individual against oppression or discrimination.  The stories contain almost radical messages if you take the time to look for them.  So, I guess what I’m saying is that while each performance is a work of art in itself, there also seems to be an artistic continuity running through all the performances as an ensemble.

I have remarked to many people how lucky we are to be able to enjoy this high-calibre storytelling here in our small town.  The performances have been well-attended, which confirms my thought that there is a largely untapped pool of people here who are thirsty for this kind of intelligent, high-quality, moving and, I would say, “real” work.  People watch and, more importantly, listen spellbound.  And, on two occasions, at the end of the story there has been a kind of collective gasp of amazement.

Of course, I should add that this is something that just about everyone would enjoy – because just about everyone loves listening to stories.  To sum up, I want you to know that this storytelling project is something special and the efforts of 2wp deserve to be supported.

Sincerely,

Jim Bamber

And, yes, we do have Jim's permission to make his name known!

First we had the two day workshop for The Odyssey, January 28 and 29.  (Catch one of the participant’s responses at http://mariebilodeau.blogspot.com/2012/01/odyssey-heading-off-to-war.html)  Seventeen tellers are involved and sixteen could be present at this time.  At first, there was nervousness.  Isn’t there always – especially when rehearsal methods are unfamiliar, when we all feel called on to strut our stuff, no matter what assurances may be given that this is not the point?  More and more, however, the nervousness gave way to total commitment – a strong and communal desire to explore Odysseus’ journey in all its nuances and to find voice for what is to be told.  To do that you have to experience in all of your being that this is a great human story of many layers, many  heights, many depths.  For Jennifer and I -- as we encouraged people to yell, sing, whisper and take risks beyond their immediate understanding; to role play in small pieces of their assigned books; to be aware of joys and sadnesses they had not yet imagined -- helping our trusty band get in there was what it was all about.  By the end, the shift in all of us was palpable.  We were at once more present for each other and for the wondrous task on hand.  We are, of course, not finished.  There is much more to be done before June 16 when we will be appearing as the finale to Ottawa Storytellers regular series at the National Arts Centre’s Fourth Stage – 10 am to 10.30 pm.  How about that for an epic event.

Even was we were looking on to this distant date in the future two other 2wp events were filling our days.  One had to do with just being producers – getting out the publicity materials, dealing with logistics for The Brothers Grimm: 200 Years and Counting with teller Dale Jarvis and musician Delf Maria Hohmann.  We had been nervous as to whether we could sell this show but our worries were unfounded.  Partly, 2wp truly is making a name for itself in our selected communities in Eastern Ontario and West Quebec.  Partly, there was – as ever – the pull of the old tales.  Dale and Delf had worked hard, not just to bring us the stories but to capture the ways of the brothers’ lives.  Listeners were fascinated.  Post-show comments indicated their intense appreciation.  Any problems with the fact that almost all the songs were in German?  No, that just made the experience all the richer; somehow anyway the meaning was clear.  Further info: http://dalejarvis.blogspot.com/

The other event?  Working with Katherine Grier to ready ourselves for the debut of Dragon’s Gold: A Sword Re-Forged, A Ring Accursed at the aforementioned OST Fourth Stage series in March.  Dragon’s Gold is the final show for 2wp’s 2011/2012 season and we will be taking it to our venues in Perth, Peterborough and Wakefield in April.  Boy, what a ride!  Finding means to weave it all together, to evoke the characters, capture the sweep of events.  It’s not an easy world to enter.  The circumstances seem so vast: a boy who has the gift that he may turn himself into an otter; a treasure that brings doom; a maiden asleep in a tower within a  circle of flames; a potion of magic that brings forgetting; lovers so brutally kept apart.  The passions are intense: Brynhild whose loves and hates are so unbridled; Sigurd who seeks for honour with such care; Grimheld, the sorceress, who will do anything to further her own aims.  I have to admit rehearsals brought more than their usual share of “how are we ever going to get to where we must be going?”  Then, it was “the night.”  We were up on that stage, the performance over.  We could feel in the house that the audience had done what we had longed for.  They had gone with us through tragedy and through transcendence as well.  Our relief and gratitude was huge.  We have some adjustments we want to be making but we await with eagerness our chance to tell the tale of Dragon’s Gold again. 

So why the title, Yes It Works?  Because although 2wp is fairly unique in the storytelling world we are increasingly proving that we have come up with a model that does just that.  Yes, if you will do what it takes in terms of publicity and professionalism, focusing on giving listeners the benefit of great artistic experiences, you can run a season of full length evenings in standard performance venues.  You can bring in a public that has never even heard of storytelling and leave them with but one question on their lips, “When’s the Next Show?”  You can indeed build yet one more opportunity for storytelling as an art-form to develop and grow. You may even find yourself in the position to be the inspiration for other major events -- witness The Odyssey, a 2wp-Ottawa Storytellers co-production, with 2wp providing artistic direction and OST coming forth with venue, publicity, and all aspects of logistics and financing.  You may have to give up a little on your blogging but you’ll even get back to that before all is said and done!

I write this with an emphasis on the word "model."  When we started 2wp, we hoped we might be breaking new ground.  As we report on its successes, we do so as a call to others to have a crack at following similar paths.  It is a deal of work but it does bring its rewards.  If you need some information about our processes, we're more than happy to share that.  We'd also like to hear of models of your own. 

Good to be home, safe and sound and know we have done good work.  Rave reviews for The Book of Spells and the Towards More Powerful Telling workshop; lots of good comments from kids and teachers in schools. 

On the flight back I had a window seat which I always organize if I can.  Partly that’s for the view and partly it’s because the journey becomes more real in its passing and thus less jarring on arrival. 

As ever, I was overwhelmed by the sight of the landscape underneath our feet.  First, there was that very particular range of colours that comes from the light of the prairies (yellows and pinks especially blended in the snow tones this time).  There were the squares of the fields and the snaking of the rivers, looping back on themselves almost in their flowing through that vast open land.  It all comes to an end so suddenly as you cross the line that marks the beginning of the bush which changes -- almost equally suddenly -- to Canadian Shield.  The Sleeping Giant was visible as we went over Thunder Bay; the sun shone on the waters of Lake Superior and then the glistening and glowing and the shore line disappeared beneath absolutely regionalized cloud.  More cloud appeared over Toronto.  We flew into Ottawa at dusk.

We bring much back with us but know there is one issue that is definitely going to require more mulling.  This has to do with a realization that came to us through the workshop – an awareness that so often it is the emotions we might describe as “negative” that tellers have to struggle so hard to bring forth.  There’s a holding back in the chest almost when it comes to such things as rage and jealousy, even though those things are crucial to the tales. 

But the voicing brings such energy, such release.  “I want to work with the witch,” said one of the tellers.  We tried this and that and finally undertook the strong resistance which involves physical pushing.  “I’m the good, good girl,” I said.  Suddenly, there it was -- “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”  Those who were watching and witnessing almost cheered.  All knew that what was happening in the here and now would not destroy the story’s subtlety; all knew what was happening would be rendered and rendered till it found its deep-down essence.  It would belong to the teller – forever and ever amen.

Now we prepare ourselves to do similar work with The Odyssey on the weekend coming up.  Odysseus himself is not always Mr. Nice Guy.  We have to find him, along with Circe, the Cyclops, Penelope, Calypso and the rest.

The picture?  That’s by 2wp’s designer and publicist Annette Hegel (web.me.com/annette.hegel)  She produced it while she was staying at our home when we were in Australia last year.  It's the view down the lake from my office window.  Our Christmas present to ourselves. 

Mostly I don’t expect “being 70” to bring about that much in terms of radical changes but I do believe it’s something that needs to be thought about.  I know all that stuff about “being as old as you feel” and “aging doesn’t matter” is garbage because aging does matter.  It matters a lot.  It is certainly not without its benefits.  For those of us on artists’ incomes, the old age pension is a liberating miracle of stability – not a ton of cash, of course, but something that does appear with absolutely unfailing regularity.  Then there’s the push to get on with things, to decide what you really want and make it happen.  Still that links up with the other side, because the push arises out of knowing that -- come what may -- time is running out.  Inevitably that’s a sobering thought. 

I know perfectly well 70 isn’t exactly what you’d call the end of the world but I do feel it merits some attention, some awareness, some sense of its situation in the pattern of my life.  I want to do some looking back and also some looking forward (as well as some just “being” along the way).  Oddly enough the back and forward seems connected with the development of my Who Wants the Dress? show.  A big part of that show comes out of the ways of my childhood and my unfulfilled longing to “be a boy.”  At the moment, the piece is an hour long and ends with my recognition of the fact that I am still a work in progress. 

What will the progress be?  I’m finding myself drawn to a second half involving a Music Hall star of my grandparents’ day.  Her name was Vesta Tilley and she made her mark as what is referred to as a male impersonator although her aim was not to convince people she was a man.  She sang and spoke as a woman.  She simply wore men’s clothing – top hat and tails of an impeccable kind.  Her specialty was masher roles i.e. acting like a toff.  The irony is that she was loved, approved of, lauded even in my family where I -- with my wish to wear boy’s clothing -- was seen as something of an aberration (hopefully, at best, going through a phase).  Where is all this going to lead?  Will I have to learn to sing and dance?  Perhaps “being 70” will show.

In the meanwhile, the Two Women are off to Saskatchewan on January 9.  We’ll be performing The Book of Spells.  A Love Story at Paved Arts in Saskatoon on Jan. 11 (http://www.2wp.ca/) and in a house concert at the home of the illustrious Kevin Mackenzie, Jan.19.  (Kevin -- http://www.storiesbykevin.com/ -- being the man to thank for getting us going on all this and doing so much of the organization.)  We’ll also be presenting our Towards More Powerful Telling workshop (http://www.2wp.ca/storytelling/) for the Saskatoon Storytellers Guild (http://www.sc-cc.com/groups/saskatoon.html) on the weekend of Jan. 14 and 15, rounding the trip out with tellings and readings for kids in libraries and schools.  It should be a good rich time and no doubt I will be writing more about the workshop and other aspects of note at some future point.

Saskatoon is where I first lived when I came to Canada from Britain in 1963 (even worked at CFQC Radio writing advertizing copy for a year).  I can’t say the adjustment to prairie living was easy.  Apart from anything else, my ex was a student and we had little money and before I knew it a baby was on the way.  Nonetheless, when I left after four years, I knew that I had been somewhere special, somewhere that was home to people of vision and strength.  I am, therefore, glad to be going back.

Snow at last and today it’s -20, the blue jays looking as if they’re wearing down jackets they’re so puffed up.  Yesterday, the wind had swept parts of the lake ice were clear; today the snow’s blown back again.  I got new snowshoes for Christmas and so far have not been able to use them (a slight matter of an over-enthusiastic burst of cross-country skiing just before New Year’s).  I’m itching to give them a try.  Carp all you like.  Winter is a great, great season.

New Year’s wishes to each and everyone from the enthusiastic life-livers at 2wp. 

Part of this, I think, has to do with the mysterious nature of our calling.  We actually don't know where so much of what we do comes from -- those ideas that pop up out of nowhere leading to fresh involvements; those times when everything all starts flowing in unexpected ways.  We're not even sure about the day to day stuff so there's always that suspicion we might wake up one morning and find it (whatever it is) has all gone away. 

There’s also the role of plain old fashioned exhaustion.  We’re so excited by the potentials, we simply run and run.  And the running of late has been so good.  It's been hugely satisfying to see that the work of 2wp is gaining acceptance; to have helped Flying in the Dark soar to fruition (or some such metaphor); to get The Odyssey rehearsals going and watch the tellers' excitement at their discoveries.  It's been grand to see that listeners are now coming to www.jansstorytellingclub.wordpress.com in growing numbers on a regular basis; to celebrate the fact that When Apples Grew Noses and White Horses Flew.  Tales of Ti-Jean has made the Silver Birch Express Award list.  (You can check that one out at www.janandrews/books/When_Apples_Grew.html)

It’s been good!  No, more than that, it’s been great!  Still, time is pressing.  We have to be gearing up for various other adventures on our lists. Above all, we have to get back to working on Dragon’s Gold which has its premier February 16 as part of the Ottawa Storytellers regular season at the Fourth Stage of the National Arts Centre (www.ottawastorytellers.ca/4th-stage-at-the-nac/).  We’ve already mulled extensively; we’ve explored sundry versions; we’ve decided who out of the three of us (the Two Women plus Katherine Grier) will tell which bit, but this is a piece of vast emotional sweep.  Jennifer and I are off to Saskatchewan for two weeks of performing and workshop-ing on January 7.  We can’t just wait till we return.

We have to find means to take ourselves back in time – back to the days when Odin and Loki and the old Norse pantheon walked the earth.  We have to inhabit the battle that gives Sigurd his triumph over the terrible dragon, Fafnir; we have to live with the disastrous effects of the draught of forgetting that deprives Brynhild of all that she has longed for; we must prepare ourselves for the funeral pyre that brings a culmination to the treasure’s curse. 

Not exactly Christmas fare, I hear you cry.  In a way, you’re right but I think too of what I put in this blog not long ago when I wrote of Pina Bausch – of how through art there may be transcendence.  We may walk the darkness in all its fullness; we may know its horror and still come forth thrilled at the knowledge that we are human, we are alive.

If only the porridge would clear!  Even as I write that I know I actually have a fair amount of faith in its going.  After all, I’ve been down this road before.  Who hasn’t?  And….and this morning I started re-learning Alan Garner’s The Stone Book for a post-Christmas performance.  It’s one of my favourite pieces and there it was – that thrill of anticipation, the tingling of delight that comes with the evocation of a great tale.  (www.2wp.ca/the-stone-book/)

Probably shouldn’t ignore the need to rest bit though.  Maybe have some sherry, eat some fruitcake, contact some old friends, bask in some old memories, walk in the winter woods, ski if we can just get some cold weather and some snow.  In other words…..have Christmas.

Also rejoice in whatever natural phenomena our lake can bring us.  Saturday morning the temperature dropped suddenly.  In half an hour we went from open water to an ever-growing sheet of ice, rippled and dappled with the wind.  We could, quite literally, see the water thickening, we could see the cold catching the ice shards at the edges and holding them firm.  Then the sun came out and the temperature rose.  The ice began receding.  Half an hour later a substantial amount of it was gone.  We’ve never witnessed anything like this.  Maybe we won’t again ever.  All we can do is wonder at the world’s variability – its ever-changing energy and life.

Time then for the good wishes – to each and everyone of you, in any of the ways you happen to need or want.    

Flying in the Dark's

No one will ever know how hard this was for her.  If I have learnt anything from all of this, it is that living with disability means you have to prove your ability, over and over on a daily basis; you have to keep demonstrating how good your days are; always and always you may find yourself faced with the voices of pity, the voices that imply you are not just disabled but incompetent, the voices that seek to undermine.  You can't afford to admit that you have weaknesses; you are pushed to appear almost super-human, even though you may do that with a laugh. 

I didn't feel I could put this before but now it seems fitting to let it be known that Kim was wrestling with words and shapes and images almost until the last.  In this, she showed incredible artistic commitment, always coming back for more.   One of our sessions left both of us  shaken to the core.  We had thought it was "all right" and suddenly it wasn't.  Neither of us knew what to do but still she hung in. 

The work was hers and what she finally crafted -- in its simplicity, its grace, its laughter and its poetry -- had nothing to do with impositions from outside.  Having said that, I would note that the work Jennifer and I did  with her was what opened the doors.  I would also say this depth of work is rare but when I see what Kim achieved I am yet more convinced that storytelling must have more of it if the art form is to keep on reaching out to listeners and so grow.

I'm going to finish with some quotes from Flying in the Dark's admirers.  Before I do that, I would also point out that this is a show which has legs.  It can travel.  It could come to you if you would book it.  Just get in touch with 2wp at http://www.2wp.ca/contact/

On to the quotes: 

"A very moving performance, exceptionally honest."

"Kim, now I have the opportunity to tell you again how much I enjoyed your storytelling last Saturday night
in Perth.  When the lights dimmed and faded away, and your voice came out of the darkness as a small child, full of wonder and joie de vivre, I was enchanted, and I am pretty sure the rest of the audience was too."

"Kim is a great storyteller - gentle and vulnerable one moment then funny and raging the next.  She had me gripped from the first moment."

"In the second half you showed your adult self, the struggles that I share with you and the courage that you have and I have and that makes us equals. I was able to stop thinking of you as "the remarkable blind woman" and start learning skills from a remarkable but at times insecure just-like-me woman."

"Story telling is such a lost art - who knew it was alive and well in Ontario until you two came along?  And, do you know what?  It's just the same as being a child and listening with that tremendous focus, totally enchanted, totally in thrall, hearing nothing else, knowing nothing else."

"Thank-you, Kim, for that wonderful, funny, thoughtful, profound and totally entertaining show."