Today my friend and coworker Clayton Lee was named the new festival director for the Rhubarb Festival at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre. And I’m very proud of Clayton. I’ve been working with Clayton for many years. And it’s an amazing step and accomplishment that he’s got this position. So congratulations Clayton!

Don’t make promises that you can’t keep. Because when people ask you to then honour the promise that you’ve made and you can’t, it makes you an asshole. And if you get angry with the people who are asking you to honour your promise, it makes you an even bigger asshole. And you’re the one who created the mess in the first place.

I’ve had the most successful few years on my life ... with Counting Sheep and starting CanadaHub. And my own play. But I can’t understand why things feel like they’re only getting harder when I thought they should start to feel like they’re getting easier. And I wonder who else feels that way.

I see a lot of young artists who have early success get really pushy with their ambitions. I’m curious about that. Im not saying it’s the wrong approach, but you’re liable to frustrate a lot of people that you’re dealing with. So unless you’re confident that your initial succes will translate into more and more and more success and you won’t need to care about what other people think about you. You should try and practice empathy for the people who are in the other side of that enquire.  This is something I wish I’d told myself when I was a young artist.

Parents are champions. That’s all I can say. And anyone who’s raising twins, you’re an even bigger champion. Anyone who’s a parents and maintains sanity, you’re the biggest champion. But it all honesty, it’s completely bonkers, and, yeah, the best.

I’m spending a lot of time and struggling with my relationship to other people and their need for others to recognize their greatness.  I find it embarrassing and I’m not sure why. I think it might be connected to my embarrassment for the realities of humanity’s needs and behavioural patterns — these desires towards greatness and how deep down they’re just antidote for negotiating mortality. 

It’s 8:30am and I’m feeding my son Lev, who’s 7 weeks old today. And I’m thinking about how when he begins to talk, he will speak a language that I don’t, as well as my own. And I wonder how that will make me feel about myself. Right now I don’t necessarily feel foreign, but I wonder if, once I can no longer understand what my child is saying, if I will then start to feel like a foreigner. 

I’m coming to you live from Vancouver, where I’m attending my first ever Push Festival. I’m wrapping up this residency in such a fitting way: surrounded by artists, thinkers, and makers who have gathered to celebrate and promote an international sharing of artistic work. That, and to celebrate the escape from the polar vortex that is plaguing the rest of Canada. Though, perhaps that, too, is a metaphor. We can’t ever truly escape the shit. The good weather and the bad are both connected to the imminent destruction of global warming, which we can pretend isn’t happening, just because it’s nice outside. We are in the muck too… and much of our best art comes from a place of trying to work through the shit that surrounds us, and generate something meaningful and relevant. So, I thank you for trying to glean meaning from this month of thoughts and questions, and I look forward to all the thoughts and questions that come as we continue to make our way through the muck. 

The Bell Let’s Talk mental health campaign is ramping up, and I know this because I keep seeing their advertisements all over bus stops in every city I visit. And as I scroll through my never-ending Facebook feed, knowing that a deluge of mental health posts is coming... I’m thinking about taking a break. Which is maybe the opposite of what's supposed to happen? And I  acknowledge my year has been great, and I don’t have anything to complain about, yet I can feel the low drone of anxiety building. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight, or the air pressure from the many chinooks we have had this year. Or maybe it’s this industry. It feels impossible to do enough, to be enough, to support all the people I care about, and to still take care of myself. So, yeah. I think I'm going to take a break, just for a bit. Until I can hold all the love and care and compassion I need to make art in this world.