So Proud!

For the most part now that Zach and Sami are fully entrenched in their teenage years I feel a little in “no-mans land” if you know what I mean.  For the most part I've become of a cross between a boarding house, a mobile ATM machine and a taxi service. ☺

Now I don't want you to think that I'm upset by this or to take this the wrong way, but the reality is that as they mature they need to build their independence and confidence.  As such this journey begins with them creating and nurturing friendships and interests which naturally and inevitably take them away from me.  

My job is to support them and be there for them no matter what, but there were two things that occurred last week that gave me a new perspective on this and where they are in their lives journey.

Zach has always had a deep and serious side to him, so when he asked me if we could have a permanent time each week to go for coffee – just him and me, it caught me by surprise at first.  Both Zach and Sami are mature beyond their years, so as I reflected on his request it made me feel valued and wanted.

Our new coffee spot on the Danforth

Without hesitation I jumped at the chance and so last Saturday morning we went to our local coffee joint (Red Rocket) on the Danforth, I live in a great neighborhood and so it’s literally steps from home.  As we strolled in the sunshine (yes, the first for a good long while) I asked him his motivation for wanting to set up a regular time to go for coffee and chat with me.   

He said, looking me squarely in the eye that he really liked the fact that I had done that with my dad toward the end of his life, (don’t get any ideas I’m not going anywhere soon!) but that he wanted to spend time with me talking about life now and not wait till we were both older.   I was blown away especially given that he broached this subject and made a significant effort to start this new routine with me without any prompting or coercion.  

During our first coffee we talked about a host of topics including: self-confidence, popularity, mortality and friendships.  Yeah, some pretty deep ones, clearly some of them we only skimmed the surface, which we will continue to talk about over the coming weeks, months and lifetime I'm sure but this first hour spent was absolutely priceless.  

As we walked home he told me that he loved me (pretty special coming from 15 year old boy), which made my heart warm.  Clearly I'm a pretty lucky dad. ☺

Both Zach and Sami came to my Improv show last Saturday afternoon, Sami being my official photographer for our troupe.  After the show she was going a friends house and was planning on staying for dinner (did I say that I was a good taxi driver?).  When I picked her up at 9:30 she quickly became the DJ in the car (as normal), after she had set up her Bluetooth and was playing one of her favorite tracks she asked if I could help her out with something.  She explained that there was this current social media phenomenon called Neknominate, which began as an online drinking game but quickly evolved to a game whereby friends nominate you for an outlandish and often times dangerous task or activity and you have to video tape yourself doing it then post it online before then nominating someone else with a another task.  

Initially it was started in Australia (go figure?) and unfortunately there have been a number of deaths and serious injuries associated with it, so understandably I was starting to get a little concerned…

She said that she had been nominated the day before by another girl in her class and wanted some advice.  She then told me that at her school and many others (Zach’s included) they had changed the game, so rather than a dangerous or death defying act they were carrying out random acts of kindness or charity instead.  And that’s why I love the schools that they go to – this “pay it forward” attitude is so ingrained within the fabric of the schools and helps them see beyond themselves.

I asked her what she had in mind; she said she wanted to do something for Sick Kids hospital but that it had to be meaningful.  She knew her own story and her brush with Sick Kids hospital and it had obviously been weighing on her mind.  

Soon after she was born she became very sick, with projectile vomiting, weight loss and generally not growing or thriving, as you'd expect a newborn to be.  As new parents we were extremely worried and she was quickly admitted to hospital while they tried to determine what was going on.  She was so tiny and we sat vigil beside her cot round the clock during the tense days that followed.  After what seemed like an innumerable number of tests they were able to work out that her digestive system was still a little immature, and that it wasn’t too serious but that she would be fine she just needed a little help.  

I told her that I thought her idea of helping Sick Kids was fantastic.  She asked how I had raised money for Cancer Research after my dad’s death and we discussed the approach I took and I could see her mulling over ideas in her head as we drove home.  The next day she continued asking questions about fundraising.  

Sami's Sick Kids Fundraising page

What most surprised me was that after dinner on Sunday night she had already researched fundraising with Sick Kids Hospital and had set up a fully functioning website with them.  We wordsmithed the introduction and why someone should donate to her site.  After that the question centered around how much she should shoot for in terms of a fundraising goal.  

Hhhmmm, my advice was to start modestly and if you exceed your goal you can always increase the amount, just I had done with my Cancer Research fundraising.  Initially my goal had been $5000, which I thought was pretty ambitious, but after raising my fundraising goal twice and eventually ending at $15,000 which I even surpassed with a final tally of just over $16,500.

With that she set the goal at $500.  She then emailed her request for donations to a handful of people as round one. She said she'd see how the next few weeks went before broadening her campaign with other fundraising activities like a bake sale etc…

By next morning she had already raised $350!  She was buoyant with pride as I dropped her at school and bursting to tell her teachers and friends.  Now that’s a mature, pay it forward sort of 13-year-old girl!

I'm so proud of you both!

Mainstage!

It’s hard to believe that the big day is finally here.  After ten months of taking Improv classes at Second City here in Toronto our graduation performance is tomorrow.  Our 45-minute performance marks the end of Level E; having successfully navigated and passed each of the levels from A-E we’ve now completed the Introduction to Improv program.

I think the most intimidating part of this performance is that we are on the main-stage and performing in front of a rather large audience of friends and family. The show itself is made up of around ten scenes with varied twists and turns which should make for a fun time.  

When I started this journey last year I wanted to give it a try and see what it was like, but it only took me a handful of classes and I was completely hooked. The whole Improv thing gets into your bones, the more you do it the more you’re addicted. I like to think of it as crack for the soul!

You know you want to....

I can't tell you how many nights I would come away from class with a sore stomach because of the constant belly laughs, seriously you try it for three solid hours its painful…but in a good way if you know what I mean.

Seriously though the coursework was amazing, but what was more unbelievable were the people I met along the way.  In each of my levels I had such an eclectic bunch of people take part, which, for the most part I likely wouldn't meet normally in my day-to-day world, especially given my work and family situation.  People from all walks of life and all ages, a true slice of life with one thing in common - Improv. In addition to the crazy cast of characters I feel truly blessed with my instructors, they were some of the best and well known in the business…so yeah, pretty cool all round! 

With this program coming to an end I've been thinking about what’s next…  In fact last Friday I was lucky enough to audition for the Longform program in the hopes that perhaps I'd make the grade and continue on my Improv journey.  

The audition was a lot of fun, but to be honest a bit of a pressure cooker type environment.  I joined a group of seven others, some of whom had worked together or attended classes together.  We started with a 15 minute warm up before being brought into the John Candy Box Theatre to face a panel of five well know and seasoned instructors from Second City...yikes!  I then realized that perhaps I may have been slightly out of my depth.  Ya think?

Our first activity was to play a series of scenes, with the direction being that there should be no “blank stage”.  This led to some pretty fast and furious scene work from the eight of us, and after about ten or so scenes we were then asked to take a seat while they conferred .  The selection panel had our photos and resumes spread out before them on the table as they discussed the next activity to test our skills.  

When they say Longform they mean long….form!  The next portion was a true test of our abilities in that each scene was close to five minute in length or until the panel got bored (yep that happened too). I was last, but my partner was awesome and we totally lucked out and were given the innocuous word “picnic” for our scene.  

So many places to take it, and I must admit the time flew and we had a great time on stage with some funny twists and turns along the way. At the end of our scene, they thanked us and said they'd get back to us if we were selected for the program, as we were quickly ushered from the theatre.

Now although I'm generally a positive person, I'm not quite as confident about a call back this time around.  The others in my group were amazing Improvisers and so if nothing else it was a great experience and definitely won't be my last audition.☺

Although its getting late tonight, I'm going to practice a couple of things before I go to bed. Firstly, I need to work on my opening for one of the scenes that I'm introducing.  In addition, I also need to work on refining some of my opening scene work, practice some of my characters and accents etc.   

In fact, last night I woke up at 4:00 am thinking about Saturdays show, slowly walking through in my head each of the scenes and how they'd play out.  Clearly I'm feeling a little preoccupied with my particular scenes, but in reality I'm surprisingly not nervous about the performance...tomorrow - am I totally crazy? 

Yeah, don't answer that! ☺   

Addicted!

I never considered myself as having an addictive personality; although by the way the past week has shaped up I’m clearly going to have to revisit that self-concept.  Yes, those damn Winter Olympics! 

Surprisingly as they approached I had only shown a passing interest…at best, although a self-proclaimed sports nut, I hadn’t given the Olympics a second thought.  Personally I’ve felt disillusioned for the past few Olympics as there seemed just too over the top, even for me.  With the constant stream of drug cheats, the never-ending media hype and sensationalism and that’s before you even get to the actual sporting event.  I’m not naïve to think that to be competitive in today’s world class sports arena that you can do it without being supported or that sponsorships and endorsements aren't critical to getting the level of training required but at times you do have to wonder where it will all stop. Its certainly taken away some of the appeal of watching these hyped up sporting events, for me anyway where once upon a time I would have been completely enamoured.

However, my latest brush with the Olympics came innocently enough when I sat down on the couch with Zach last Saturday morning to watch the first couple of events, initially more to hang out with him than for anything else.   However, it wasn't long before I caught myself watching with excited interest the seemingly unending series of events – Women’s Moguls, Speed Skating, Hockey and dare I say it….Figure Skating.  And even more surprising was that we were both so into it.

Decisions - decisions...

Strangely, I had feelings of guilt as I sat watching the initial events, not wanting to be too obvious but I felt divided in my allegiance as to which country I was going to cheer for - Canada or Australia?  Generally it's always Australia with no questions asked, especially if they're directly competing against one another, but lets face it Oz isn't exactly known for its winter sports prowess, so depending on the event and the participants ultimately decided who I'd be cheering for.  

Fortunately for me there have only been a small number of events during this current Olympics where Australia was either directly competing against Canada or had even a remote chance at truly being competitive…except perhaps Torah Bright from Australia in the Women’s Snowboarding Halfpipe.  Strangely in this event the Canadian team weren't that competitive, which to be honest was a little surprising.  

Each time I check the results (perhaps ten to fifteen times per day conservatively speaking and that’s not to mention the times I then spend watching highlights or videos of the events, yes, always before or after work mind you) J.  The first thing I do is look for Australia to see if we've won any medals since last I checked, then run through the events to see if we've made it to a semi-final or final (which is rather rare I must admit). Then and only then do I check for Canada to see how they're doing?  I know, not a lot of respect for my adopted country, but what can I say except that I'm a bad immigrant!  

The bigger question here is will I ever feel truly Canadian? I consider myself Australian first and foremost, mainly because it’s “home”, and likely always will be. Although since Dad died in February 2011 it’s never quite felt the same.  With no surviving parents or family home I sort of feel "anchor-less" when it comes to Australia if you know what I mean.  Although, that being said with all my family (siblings and nieces and nephews) still living in Australia it’s hard to even imagine a life without feeling truly Australian, but disconnected nonetheless.

Interestingly the thing that I find most astounding is my accent, or should I say the lack of accent (well at least in my head anyway).  When I listen to others talk around me, it doesn’t sound any different to me, well at least in my head anyway. I think I sound the same as everyone around me, although when I tell people that they often laugh uncontrollably and ask me “what part of Australia are you from?” with no questions asked.  I suppose its that obvious?  

Hhhmmm, and here I was thinking that I totally blended into Canadian society.  I guess that myth is as broken just as my unbiased following of the Australian Olympic team in Sochi.

Zach and me on our recent trip to Los Angeles
(Oct 2013)

Clearly, the best thing about last weekend was the bonding time between Zach and I as we cheered on the competitors from our couch.  Well, I suppose it went a little deeper than that actually as we also critiqued their routines, gold medal runs and overall performance…often lambasting them for their poor form or missed opportunities that were just soooo obvious from the couch. J

However the pièce-de-résistance for me came just before bed on Sunday night when Zach said to me that he'd really enjoyed the weekend, and the time we'd spent together watching the Olympics.  It truly was one of those sincere and heart warming moments that have become so rare since he’s become a fully-fledged teenager. I’m happy to take these little moments anytime I can and I hugged him back and said "me too, mate, me too".

p.s. Happy Valentines Day!

Wild Hydrangeas

My senses were being bombarded…  The sun seemed brighter and more powerful in Italy than any other place I’d been except home in Australia.  I remember distinctly smiling when I stepped out of the airport terminal in Milan on my first day and took my first deep breath on Italian soil for many years.  For some reason I felt completely at home and at peace in Italy…go figure?  

Initially I had put it down the cool and romantic idea of being in Italy, seriously what’s not to love about it.  Although traveling by oneself isn’t really so romantic per see, I think the real allure to traveling alone is that you’re completely in control of your timeline and agenda with no need of compromise unless you so choose it.  

The more I thought about it the more I felt unnerved and a little off balance with it all. Why did I feel so deeply about a country that I’d visited so infrequently during my lifetime, yet seemed to have such a deep affinity and appreciation of?  I guess if you believe in living prior lives, perhaps you would write it off as that but being the pragmatic guy that I am I searched for a more fact based reason.  Yeah I know, hard to believe right?

It was the little things, but I noticed them the first day. 

Wild Hydrangeas

I’ve always been one for details, sometimes the hidden little things that no one else notices are the things that capture my attention and that I gravitate toward. This was just such an occasion. 

To the untrained eye they were lost in the overabundance of colors, shapes and spectacular vistas that make up this most beautiful part of the world. It seemed that everywhere I glanced there they were, at the side of the road as I drove toward my destination, in front gardens of the houses that I passed, languidly growing in ravines and even deep in the forests and along hiking trails…where ever I seemed to be they were there – omnipresent if you will.  

I rent an apartment in a village called San Giovanni di Bellagio, as I want to feel the vibe of the village and observe the inhabitants as they go about their daily lives, not to mention practice my very poor Italian on them.  Fortunately for me San Giovanni is a small fishing village set on Lake Como about 2km from Bellagio.  With its narrow cobbled streets that are too narrow for cars, it’s the perfect place for me to get acquainted with my Italian soul.  

Most days started the same way, after a lazy breakfast of cappuccino and fresh croissants at the Café San Remo I’d jump on the next ferry with camera in hand and explore the villages that dot the miles of lakeshore.  Often times I’d only find out which direction or towns this particular ferry was headed after I was onboard and it was well out into the lake.  Nothing like a new adventure to set the day off right!

Each summers day in Italy starts exactly the same way, well for me anyway. The sky is an iridescent blue or as the Italians call it “azure”.  This gorgeous sky is accompanied by the softest of breezes, the type that caresses you warmly; some might even suggest that it was only the hint of a breeze rather than the actual air moving it so imperceptible. 

On top of all this grandeur was the feel of the air.  It’s aroma is reminiscent of my childhood in Clunes, with the hot sun providing a baking effect on the plants, shrubs and grass, which give off such a pungent and fragrant scent that it transports me back instantly to my days as a child in rural Australia.  When you stand in the sun it prickles the skin on your arms and neck, but in a good way, in a way that makes you feel alive and healthy.  The type that gets deep into your bones, yeah, you know the one I mean.  

It took me a few days to become aware of something that I found myself doing numerous times per day.  With my eyes closed and standing as still as possible, I’d be listening to the orchestra of sound made by the cicadas in the nearby trees and bushes, this beautiful sound teased the senses and complimented the overpowering sense of peace and tranquility that I enjoyed during those weeks in Italy.  

Italy for me represents “Dolce Vita” in the truest sense of the phrase, no wonder I feel so at home! 

Even today, as I sit here in Toronto during the depths of winter and surrounded by snow all these months later, if I close my eyes I can literally take myself back to those carefree summer days in Italy.  

To a distant moment in time when the earth stood still and breathed in the scent of the wild Hydrangeas…

Here's the rub...

After two years of blogging I realized on my trip last week to London that something was missing from my life!   It’s been a whole four weeks since my last official blog on “Indelible Adventures”, and only just over a month since my book was published.  Yes you could say that I’ve been having serious withdrawals ever since.

It’s truly amazing how much the art and act of writing has infiltrated my life.  So with that I’m embarking on a new series of blogs entitled “Disheveled Musings”.  

Don’t ask me where I got this title from, but all I can say is that it just came to me in the middle of the night, I must have gotten up and scribbled it down on a note pad near my bed and then fell fitfully back to sleep.   The next morning I woke to find my note, definitely in my handwriting albeit a little scraggly and so I’m taking that as sign to use it.  

So what’s it going to be about…great question!   

I’ve had a few readers suggest that I mix my love of photography with my blog, in more of a coffee table type book.  Interesting idea, so I’m going to explore that direction in this new blog.

Stay tuned!