What have you been?
A fun list of characters I have found myself portraying.

-a helpless young ballerina/ingenue
-a leader of a revolution
-a repressed bookworm
-a bookseller
-a secretary
-a lady-in-waiting
-a maid
-a spirit of a dead girl
-a miserable pet store employee
-a bitter single mother journalist
-a sexually confused teenager who can't do trigonometry
-myself

I'm angry. Angry at him for wasting talent and life. Angry at me for having no willpower. Angry at friends and kind of friends who are not reliable and who play with me. Angry at myself for not being productive, not knowing how to make myself productive. Angry that I'm no longer knowing where I am.

I need a wild dance party.

I miss

That time that I played Ann...

Cast
Originally uploaded by meghandear

I LOVE LONDON. I love it. I like school about a seven on a scale of one to ten. I love meeting new friends, I love having a new room, I love reading and drinking tea and eating biscuits.

I miss being a creator, however. I miss friends that know me well, and I miss familiar hugs. I miss my old apartment with Eric and I miss my mom like mad.

If...

Very unlikely situation to arise. But! If I ever get married, and start using the word "hubby," kill me. Seriously.

August was Magic

I had my August, my birth month. My real birthday was spent sick, out with my family for dinner, back home to bed. Three days later with great friends I drank wine on the mountain, pretended to pee behind a tree, and ran down a dangerously steep hill holding hands with a beautiful girl.

We went to a bar, where we sat and talked and talked and talked and I thrilled inside to realize these were people who loved me, who I loved. He came, we held hands, there were butterflies, there's always butterflies for me.

Kyle and I hopped in a car in August, drove to New Brunswick, wandered around waterfalls, tubed down rivers, felt glad to be alive. Eric took us camping, lobsters on the barbeque and late night campfire games, sleeping on rocks (do bankers actually camp?). Rain rain rain.

A key was given to me. Dresses were worn. I melted. The end/new beginning approached. And now it's here.

JULY and Summer!

July was camp and Montreal, as well as a weekend of cottage. July was nerves- why on earth would I leave these friends who I love and who love me? Reassuring myself that when I get comfortable, I stop learning, and I'd gotten comfortable. Go, Meghan!
July was love- this community that I built, these children who are bright, funny, who create with vigor and who I love dearly. July was endings, official and unofficial.
July was tired evenings alone, expensive long distance phone calls, finding my bicycle and helmet, riding in the dark and seeing maybe two cars in 7 km.

July included sneaking into a bird sanctuary at night, staring at the moon, sitting on the mountain and eating way too much (as many months seem to).

There is a knot in my stomach right now, and always. I'm terrified.

June.

June was June. A rough haul for the show, a week of Fringe festival ridiculousness, picnics, patios, crying, laughing, boxes boxes boxes. Finding homes for animals, trying to appropriately divide time, flirting with doormen, wearing summer dresses, playing the right arm of a puppet, saying goodbyes, kissing, testing boundaries and self made rules, eating too much, eating not enough, mini drunken interventions, hand holding, cab riding, self-doubting, toothbrushing, couch crashing, risk taking, family worries, hospital visiting, career refocusing, failing, feeling left out, honesty, loving, Indian food, Greek food, pouring beer, using payphones, wishing I was smarter prettier, people watching, procrastinating, dreaming, napping on the floor, late night cleaning, imagining, missing, secret pretend romance, drinking wine out of styrofoam cups in the park at night, tying up loose ends, accepting, and once again, laughing. It was intense.

May!

Nearly over, May was one of the most intense months of my life. Wanting to do everything, I took on two jobs and a play. I was out of my house from 7:30 am until 12 am everyday. I drank a lot, I laughed a lot, I complained a lot. I spent some time on patios. It couldn't decide what temperature to be. I walked a lot.

Teaching is something that I now have some experience in. I want to teach something, somewhere, or at least facilitate some sort of creation in an educational/developmental way. This was the third time I taught the "Introduction to acting" course for non-theatre students. I designed my own curriculum and just threw myself in. This summer course was amazing. I realized I have gained the confidence to have my voice be the guiding voice of the room. That's a big step. Good one, Meg.

The play was incredibly fun. Wonderful people, wonderful space, wonderful creating. I honestly don't know what I think about the final product. It doesn't matter. We did something lovely to watch, that made some people leave with new thoughts.

The more I study theatre, the more I hate theatre. I hate to go to the theatre. It isn't used the way it should and could be. Creation is a valuable tool mostly for the creator.

I'm working in a community centre basement, under fluorescent lighting, with no windows. I leave everyday with a headache.

I think I'm developing OCD.

I think I'm developing some sort of weird eating disorder.

I think that I complain way too much, and so do most people I know.

I think that I am a lucky, lucky girl. I think I need to do something big and grand before I leave this country for a year or a few. I think I need to have a good healthy cry and laugh and run. I think I need to cut ties that need to be cut, and make new ties quickly before I go. I think I need to take a few risks. Yes.

April has been snowy

All I want is a barbeque, April. I want to have friends on my patio, a glass of Sangria in my hand, and good music on the stereo. I don't care if I have to wear a sweater, I don't care if we can't stay outside long. I just want to celebrate spring before I get busy with work. Please stop raining. Please stop pretending you are fall.

On another note, April. Last year was last year. Last April was fantastic, one of the best months of my whole entire life. This month is fine in different ways. Stop trying to throw the same ingredients as last year in, because things are different.

March, March, March

Our first fresh audience
Originally uploaded by meghandear.

Three months ago I was in another country, consistently stimulated and challenged by the notion of art as a tool for change. We loved each other, we hated each other, we talked about useless ideas and the most useful ideas. We discovered that limited power is still power, and change that affects only a few people is valuable because it is affecting something.

Now I am in Montreal, cold and uninspired, doing very little to contribute to my world. Feeling heavy and nervous and tired. Going out too much, going out not enough. Iron deficient and on the way to diabetes. Wishing I was that little bit smarter, prettier, outgoing. Making stupid decisions. Come on, Meghan, step up.

On a higher note, I have just begun a project I care about. That is mine. That should have been done a long time ago, but apparently I only have faith in myself in a small town where I know everybody. Just jumping in.

India just handed me opportunities on a platter, because the trip was project and education oriented. Here there are still issues to be addressed, that I can address. It's just different and I have to put myself out there.

And THAT is my self indulgent blog of the moment.
-The "goddam crypto-imperialist brat"

"Do you guys make out?"

"EWWWWW!"

I'm supposed to be doing some serious work here. So here are some of my favourite youtube clips.


"Badly."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vuR26bp5bnw&NR

"Et l'autobus!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcC31r1BxBY

Despair.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMZrXAXitKI

"Not again. "
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMZrXAXitKI

This woman is my acting hero.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxvODj4q7-E


Little reminder...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=qdSAYS05iQA

That's it for now. Back to work.

Zoos

Eugene, originally uploaded by meghandear.

He had bird books. I hadn't looked at bird books since I was about eight years old, in the big wooden walled dining room of my grandparent's cottage. Only on rainy days, when the birds weren't out anyway, but I'd try to remember what they looked like, so I could spot them tomorrow, when the sun was shining and the animals reappeared. Of course, I forgot what was what, or cared much less than anticipated.

Bird books!

Miss Dear

Kindred Spirit, originally uploaded by meghandear.

In my spanish class, I go by Meg.

I feel like I get to have a different identity. Who is this Meg? She certainly loves scuba diving.

Meghan the hermit

It is cold. Very cold. I don't want to do anything but eat and watch tv. Which is unlike me, but indulging has been fun. It just needs to end.

I love the feeling of being out and about, and keep telling myself to just get out there, to just
be around people, to eat up my last semester and be merry. But when I have to wear a gazillion layers and have chapped cheeks and waterey eyes all the time, it's not that appealing.

Then we get that taste of spring, and the pink jacket comes out, and I feel like a million bucks, people stopping me on the street to say nice coat and we talk about the weather and the winter blues. A TRICK. Always a trick.

I've been listening to great music and wearing the same outfits and loving a few great friends. Life has been calm, calmer than usual. Good, though.

It is very, very cold here.

An on-campus courtyard, originally uploaded by meghandear.

I'm back at school and missing a month of being on the verge of Indian Royalty. Of eating the best food everyday and walking through a campus that looked like this.

We meet occasionally, the people who travelled to India. We sit down and eat food and drink drinks and are just together. I think we intend to accomplish something on these occasions, intend to discuss questions that were brought up, ideas that came to be, and to begin accomplishing more. But we just talk about nothing, share photos, laugh and leave.

It is lovely.

Now what?

I've been in Canada just over a week, and I'm stuck stuck stuck.

I am finished with school, but I have to get a semester's worth of credits. So I will spend the next three months going through the motions of school, putting time and energy in a place where my passions are not. Poor me.

Last night the crew who went to India met at a bar on St-Laurent, and it was surreal. The feeling of home I had when I arrived, when we all smiled at each other, when photos came out, when we just had to say "I'm tired" and have someone else know the depth and magnitude of that tiredness. It's got something to do with jetlag, but mostly to do with the uneasy return to a life where we can't question question question every moment. Where we have stuff that has to get done.

We were so lucky to create such a magical, safe space in India, where we got to experience just THINGS that no one else will ever get to. Ever. It was an experience that was completely unique on this earth. I can't explain, words don't yet.

I've yet to process the trip, and just now find myself coming back to the Peru trip, and the thoughts and ideas that didn't get to come out or be properly thought.

I'm such a TDEV hippy.

And lucky.

My biggest complaints are grad school applications and bored with an education that is lasting one semester too long. Oh boy.

A New Year

It is 2007, and I am thrilled. Thrilled!

I've never been one to get really excited about New Years, or make big resolutions, or think things will change. That sounds a lot more depressing than I meant it to.

This year, though, I am really excited about, for some reason or another.

2006 was a big year for me, with some of the best and worst times of my life all crammed together in ridiculous pile of THINGS. At the very end of 2005 I lost a lot of weight in a very short period of time. Most of it stayed off, and 2006 was the year of hating and learning to love and hating once again my body. I battled some depression, using therapy and meds, and feel good. I found myself some great, great friends, and made better friends with many of the ones I already had. I met a man and had my second relationship. It ended badly, after five months of first amazingness and then confusion and anger. I learned a lot. I went to Peru for over a month. I went to India for a month. I worked with kids, I did a successful fundraiser, I wrote and produced my own work, I wore clothes without worrying what people thought, I smiled a lot. I interviewed a porn star. I did a presentation in my underwear. I called myself an artist for the first time. I studied human rights. I learned some Spanish. I made goals I didn't meet. I made goals I did meet. I stopped panicking about my life as much. I'm going to be just fine next year.

So, I have high faith in 2007, because in 2006 I found out a lot more about myself.

I wish anyone that reads this all the great fortunes and successes that they deserve. I wish them happiness, joy and satisfaction in this confusing, confusing life.

Some ramblings on art...

While theatre seems to be the only direction I'm interested in following, and while theatre has turned into something much larger (music, art, creation, etc) for me, I find myself somewhat ashamed. There is a certain lack of practicality, or so a part of my essence believes, in being an artist. While I will be the first to tell you all the good you can find in art, in creating art as a group of people, I am always wishing that I was doing something more concrete.

I am extremely interested in human rights, and the lack of fairness that is life. I know I have a big heart, I want to help those that need help and support those that are taking a step up. I want to be of assistance to people, if I can.I am training to be an artist. The work I am involved in is art. Is creation. Is helpful, in the way that I can be.

I've made it very clear to myself, and to people I work with, that I am not an actor. Nor do I wish to be an actor. Sometimes I love performing. I love to be involved with actors, to move, to push myself physically and mentally to tell a story. I want to be able to jump into a project as an actor if need be. I think ideally I want to work freelance, to write a piece here, to act a piece there, to direct a bit, to produce, produce, produce. To be present in a community, to raise awareness, to bring people together, to encourage sharing and loving and working together.

Projects bring people together. I have facilitated projects that have brought people together. As an artist, and "entrepreneur" and nothing else. I am an artist. I will be an artist, even through teaching, even through whatever comes my way. I need to not feel shame. I need to embrace art and my capacity to create. My mnid is different from anyone else's, and not better or worse.

Workshops have begun

I'm left exhausted but happy. It is so good to be moving my body, there is dance, there are gestures (we all know how I love gestures), there is energy. I got stepped on within the first hour of the first workshop, leaving me a gimp and with an AWESOME bruise on my foot. Blue and purple. At first I was sad, but it is recovering nicely.

My roommate left some fruit peels on the bedside table, and we got ANTS. In my bed, in my clothes, everywhere, ants. They're gone now, but I was killing them viciously for awhile.

I haven't left campus in the last few days. Yesterday I spent some time in the sun reading before class. A boy from the workshop found me and took me for tea. I can't get enough of this sweet Chai, everything is so flavourful.

Tomorrow we are supposed to head out to the slums. This makes me nervous, and I'm preparing for my heart to break.

So many things, of course.

"Welcome to Street Theatre," he said

We did our first public performance, of sorts, today.

Yesterday upon discussion of what are current issues pertaining to human rights in Canada and in India, in groups of two or four we were given one issue. Using a colourful umbrella and our bodies, we created an image (tableau, frozen picture, blablabla). We then had to stay in this image for ten minutes. It's surprising how much that can hurt.

Today at lunchtime, we found ourselves on a round grassy knoll in the centre of campus, frozen in these images for a half hour. People gathered up close, discussing what it could be, people watched from far away, people ignored, and people took photos. It was bizarre.

I was in the image of "income disparity", a difficult issue to represent visually, but we got it done. I suppose our arrival as the huge group of Canadians has been announced on campus, through this installation. It was a lovely introduction to melding arts and human rights. It was painful.

----

A lot of discussion is being opened on the idea of culture, what it means to be Canadian, and what it means to be a visitor in someone else's culture. What I have learned thus far in my limited travelling is that you will always be a tourist. Unless you relocate permanently, it doesn't matter how long you stay in a place, how many friends you make, how familiar it becomes. Being born in a small, middle class town in Canada will be with me forever and ever. This is no reason for me to be ashamed, or excited. We come from where we come from.

There is a richness in the culture here that I haven't been fortunate enough to find in other places. We went to the temple a few nights ago, a big group of English speaking, mostly white Canadians. To see people respect traditions, to respect religion, to so fully commit to their deities and ritual, was amazing. A woman turned to me, as I was walking around, and explained that the belief is that the huge marble in the centre of the temple was carved from just one stone. I thanked her for telling me, and she said, "you're welcome, I'm proud of my traditions, my country." Just like that.

In Canada, what do we have that is equivalent?

I suppose that Canadians are building a cultural identity, how can we expect to have strong roots, ties and rituals when our country is so young? My traditions stem from the traditions of my parents, which stem from their parents, which stems from European traditions. And when I say traditions, all I am really thinking of is Christmas, Easter, religious holidays, when I wouldn't consider us a religious family. As a young woman who is currently being educated, and who has opportunity to sit down and think about this... does it even matter? Am I ashamed to be Canadian? Not at all. Am I ashamed to be from a place where we run around, claiming to be socially aware and conscious, but wearing shoes sewn by underpaid children in a South American sweat shop? Yeah, sometimes.

Ignorance probably is bliss. And no matter how much I read, I'll still be ignorant to the realities of the lives of some people.

We were participants in Christ College's First Annual International Human Rights Film Festival. There are a few that are definitely worth checking out, that remind me that as a young person in a young nation, we have yet to have to fight for basic rights. There are, of course, violations of human rights across the globe, Canada being no exception. But we don't have to ban together for work, for democracy, for water or food or homes.

My favourite documentary today was called " The Take", a Canadian documentary about Argentinian workers who re-open factories collectively to find work.

That's my long and garbled thought of the moment, all that.
Still happy to be here, sore from the installation, and interested to see what comes next.

India... again

I, of course, have been overwhelmed since arrival. I was prepared for the number of people, it is still a shock to walk down a street. I was prepared for the delicious, delicious Indian food that is killing the inside of my stomach. Luckily for Colonialism and Consumerism and Westernization, there is a mall (funny how all malls smell the same) down the street that includes a KFC, a Pizza Hut (which delivers), and a McDonalds. I was prepared for the heat and the dress code (lots of cotton pants, nothing too exposing up top).

I don't even know, yet, what I wasn't prepared for.

We are discussing human rights, we are discussing globalization, we are discussing the notion of our roles as "artists" (we can debate that word later) in this world. I'm kicked in the face once again with how ignorant I am to the state of the world. I just come up with question after question that needs time to be answered, needs research, needs self-reflection. I'm tired, dehydrated and dirty.

I'm very happy and fortunate to be here. I'm all whirlwinded inside.

There is a trip blog being kept:

http://rightshere.blogspot.com

Don't know what it will grow to be. However, there is so much to be shared.

Now, in the words of the Christ College anthem:

March on Christites, March on!

(more later).

India!

I arrived in Bangalore on Friday. It is a lot of things.

More later.

My life this semester consists of:

-documentary theatre
(a freudian slip of sorts: upon the first typing of that, I wrote "cockumentary")
- very nice dinners with very nice people
- a group of theatre and development students listening to law students talk about human rights and aching to do something movement based...
- not cleaning
- watching my 22 year old roommate have a mid-life crisis
- being dumped for the first time. well, kind of.
- a fair amount of dancing
- good intentions
- flirting with everyone I meet.
- listening to Regina Spektor and wishing that she was me.
- grad school research. Ew.
- developing my overactive imagination to the point that I cannot get made up things off my mind and they effect the rest of my life.
- Christmas tree on November 1st or something ridiculous like that.
- completing my transition to hippy by regularly saying things like "that's because I'm not grounded enough", "it will help you to find your breath", "it'll be best for us to get to a solution organically", and "follow your impulse, do what your body is telling you to," on a regular basis.
- not learning spanish/the guitar/sign language
- making friends with everyone who works at my favourite restaurant to the point where we invite each other out.
- getting sexually harassed on and around public transit.
- screening my phone calls.
- following my own impulses to the point of injuring others (just one time. a wooden spoon to the crotch of a friend. don't really know why.)
- making pretend big future plans.
- just letting myself be confused about life. It's pretty good.

"Don't ask me to look at another man's legs ever again."