The rules and code of Nick

A few days ago my friend and collaborator in Here Be Dragons theatre Caitlin Corbett published her personal code of conduct from when she was 19 on her Facebook wall.

I took a good read of it and realized that although I too had my own code I had never written it down. It had always been an internal moral compass, one that may not line up with many other people. How could I expect people to understand me and my motives unless they were there, easy to read.

So I decide to write down my code of conduct as it stands here and now. It has ( and hopefully will continue) to evolve as I do.

• the following rules and code of conduct apply only to me. I do not hold my self to any other standards but my own and therefore must do the same with the rest of the world.
• do your best: it doesn’t matter if you enjoy what you are doing or not. If you are given a task compleat it to the best of your abilities. Take pride in your work even if you dislike it.
• push yourself: you will never get better at anything through being complacent. Once you are comfortable find a way to shake it up.
• failure IS an option: this comes with pushing your self. You learn more from a single failure then you do from a hundred successes.
• the failure doesn’t have to be yours: indeed the majority of failures shouldn’t be yours. Learn from peers, mentors and from observation.
• Chivalry is not dead: be courteous to all. Hold the door open for all, not because people are weak but because it is the right thing to do.
• when being a host be the most gracious host possible. Offer drinks, the best chair, turn off your phone, offer protection and aide if needed but you are under no obligation to take an insult of they offer it. Throw them out
• when a guest in someone’s home accept their hospitality with grace, be helpful, do not insult them and be curtious
• everybody lies.
• minimize lies told, but do not fear to lie when needed. The important thing is to ensure your lies don’t get found out
• omission is acceptable.
• while it is acceptable to lie when needed that rule is invalid when you have given your word. Your word is your bond. When you give your word the deed is as good as done. No exceptions. You are beholden to your word unless the person you have your word to releases you. The only difference between giving your word and accomplishing the task is the time on the clock.
• no one is truly good or truly bad. We are all a shade of grey.
• you are to protect your family at all costs. They are your blood. (This rule becomes invalid if they do not extend the same rule to you)
• those who get the label of “true friend” are to be considered family and afforded all the rights and privileges therein.
• If it harm none do what you will
• the biggest exception to the above rule is if someone tries to hurt you or your family, then all bets are off.
• defend those who can’t defend themselves.
• help others whenever possible. When not possible try anyways
• believe in a higher power because if you are the height of evolution then the universe is in deep shit.
• what you believe is what you believe do not impose you belief on anyone.
• be prepared. Not just for scouts anymore.
• if there is a conversation worth having it is worth turning off your phone. ( this goes for meals and dates)
• trust but verify
• forgive but never forget
• Own up to your mistakes

More to come. Changes to be made. Life to live.

Dropped from my brain to your.

Musing on a quarter of a century

16: Drive

18: drink in Quebec.

19: Drink in Ontario

20: two decades

21 Drink everywhere

24: a confluence of numbers

25: Filling out a new bubble on surveys.  Oh goody…

 

I’ve finally lost most of the arrogance of youth. I am no longer the world’s best actor, director, gamer, employee, singer or lover.

 

I don’t think I am immortal anymore. I have past injuries that can limit me. I get headaches and sore backs. I can wake up in pain. 

 

Occasionally I scour my beard and find a white whisker. I look at the shine of my head and wish to find ANY sort of hair there.

 

Although I realize my limits I also have a better handle on my strengths and realizing the fact I know nothing means I can truly start to learn

 

Although I have aches and pain I am stronger from doing the work  I can also ignore pain better. 

 

Although I find hairs of white and hairs of blight I am in better shape then I have been in a while. I have also learned to accept that some may find me handsome

 

I have learned much, loved much, and experienced much. I have made friends, colleagues and enjoyed time with them

 

I have spent time with my family and uncovered a side of me I hadn’t been able to stretch. 

 

I have learned, laughed and loved in past twenty-five years And I look forward to doing more of that.

 

I also looking forward to what life holds and the first quarter. Grey hair, no hair aches pains and all that too.

 

The Dark Angel

The angel fell, although not one of Satan’s horde he could not stand with the host to condemn then torment his brother; so he was cast out. Falling falling falling, through the cloud past the birds. A few of his brethren beside him. All silent all knowing how they disobeyed the great one… But unafraid for since they did not side with the betrayer they will only suffer a fraction of his torment. Buried in the cool brown earth in caves. Given forms to feel pain and further from the source then they ever had before but closer then the traitor. 

 

The angel eventually making his way from his cave. Although he could not bask in the radiance of the Allfather he could sense his presence in everything. Finding the children of the Father he tried to heal them. Since his fall he could still heal their souls making them feel whole but he was now a servant to temptation. 

 

He was betrayed by one and the pain he felt made him turn from the light. For years he let the pain of others wash over him but he never tried to stem the tide. He let the darkness grow until he couldn’t feel the light of the Source anywhere. His wings were dying and he was weakened. 

 

Finally after years of being alone and having finally given up hope he found another like him. Another watcher. Although she was not without stain she made him strive to cleanse himself of his for her. Together they work not to heal the world mearly each other. Creation and all of its beauty showing them the light they lost and they saw it best reflected in each other. The fallen angel fallen no more returned to his purpose. She to hers. 

 

Forevermore they were linked, together and on the final day when the seven seals were broken they faced the Lamb holding each other close. No fear. Just contentment to be hold each other. Their only regret that they had not been ready to meet each other sooner.

Meeting God



I was using  www.stumbleupon.com and came across this. I did not write it, I do not claim to of written it. The original version is here:philosophy.thecastsite.com/readings/anonymous1.html/

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup.” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies.” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup.” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be alright?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved.” “To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right.”

“All the religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strolled in the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter?”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.”

“You’ve been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated then?”

“Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You pondered.

“Oh, sure!” I explained. “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there’s others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there but you honestly won’t understand.”

“Oh.” You said, a little let down. “But wait, if I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan, you don’t even know its happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well, it’s a reasonable question.” You persisted.

I looked in your eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No. Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you, and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on Earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it.” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth.” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa.” You said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said. “It’s just…”

“An egg of sorts.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

---

The Morning Star Has Set ( AKA Fringe 2013 and where the hell I’ve been)

Man I have really let this blog slip and to all of you who read it I am sorry. BUT I have good reasons! I acted ( yep ACTED) in SubDevision 2013 as part of the Mag North Festival. Oh Em Gee that was FUN! Such wonderful creativity to all the different shows!!!

 

But After Seeds closed I had less then a week to get the Fringe show I was working on show ready… Caitlin Corbett approched me in February to work with her on her one woman show that was being put up at the Ottawa Fringe Festival as a BYOV at Avant Garde bar. She had described the project to me and I LOVED IT. Not to mention she is an extremely talented writer.

 

So we started our collaboration and aside from the invaluable help from our Costume and Makeup designer Rosie Hoekstra and Makeup and special effects artist Ian Wratschkio it was just me and Caitlin.

 

Whew it was a lot of work… Directing, designing AND stage managing… I am too OLD for this shit… But It was fun. Caitlin Writing, acting and Producing she was so great. We agree that we are both going to nap for July but it was so worth it.

 

7 Shows… 7 incredible shows in a tiny Russian bar downtown, over 130 audience members over those nights 62% attendance overall.

 

Thank you thank you thank you! Thank you to Caitlin, Ian, Rosie, Marit ( Caitlin’s mother who was our Venue Manager EVERY SINGLE NIGHT) thank you to the audience and to the Fringe. Now that is said and done we can put Morning Star to bed…

Or can we…? Now that we found our legs with Morning Star we are already remounting!!! August 8th at The Gladstone Theatre, as part of The One Night Only seried, Morning Star is being performed in a “real” theatre… With lights, and drapes, and raked seating… 

We grow. We prosper… Now Gods, stand up for the Devil…

 

Dropped from my brain to yours.

The Darkness.

Less then two years ago when walking through the park near my house after work at night I was always afraid. This just wasn’t a park it was ( and still is) a park with zero light sources in it. You might get the moon but thats it. Even further back I couldn’t sleep with out the light on a low dimmer. I had the natural fear that what we cannot see can and WILL kill and eat you.

This is what kept us alive for thousands of years. It is natural and we all have some fear of the dark.

Of course now I can only sleep in mostly dark and when I have a migraine the and darkest hole are my refuge in a world that is all vibrant colour, light, sound and pain. But I never traveled through the park. weather because the bus I used to take got rerouted or the fact I mostly come here during the day I don’t know.

But tonight I decided to go out of my way and not only walk through the park but I am still here. Sitting on the hill typing this. I will probably stay here a while after publishing this. My time living on my own I have seen and experienced things that tell me that: yes although monsters are real they don’t always hide in the dark and the ones who do are almost as terrified as you are.

I sit here in the still and the quiet and I am at peace. I am away from the hustle and bustle of downtown and near my apartment. I am alone with nature ( minus the laptop) I am at one with the darkness without and I am getting more comfortable with the darkness within.

An open letter to OC Transpo

Hey OC Transpo,

Now I know you normally you get the short end of the stick when it comes to your drivers being jerks but this time I need to vent. Was riding downtown on the 97 bus # 6698. A lady got on the bus and the bus took off a little quick. The passenger made a comment and the drive proceeded to slam the brakes 4 or 5 times asking ” what did you say what did you say?” When a passenger was collecting her bags to leave the driver proceeded to shut the door in her face and started to drive away until the passenger insisted to be let off. ( all this occurred at the front door)

Now OC Transpo, I work for the city too and I had to take a program called “Service Excellence” and one of the things I learned was the customer doesn’t get a flying fuck how bad your day is. I’ve had shitty days and still greet everyone with a smile and pleasant chit chat.

OC Transpo you still need to win the hears and minds of the citizens of our fair city. You cannot afford to have such unprofessional people working for your organization.

I say this as a concerned citizen and user of OC Transpo

Dropped from my brain to yours

Bullying is oppression.

From Wikipedia: Satire is a genre of literature, and sometimes graphic and performing arts, in which vices, follies, abuses, and shortcomings are held up to ridicule, ideally with the intent of shaming individuals, and society itself, into improvement.^[1] Although satire is usually meant to be funny, its greater purpose is often constructive social criticism, using wit as a weapon.

Satire is a word often associated with David Mamet. His play “November” ( currently playing at the Gladstone Theatre) is in the style of a satire. One audience member ( and friend of mine) said: “Go see NOVEMBER at The Gladstone Theatre. GREAT show. Be warned, its wonderfully offensive if you: are gay, right wing, Chinese, Black, Native, left wing, Jewish, capitalist, Arab, religious, eat meat, Irani, Iraqi, stand for justice, Libertarian, anti-nuclear war, or American. It’s everything comedy should be…not careful. Go see it.”

I trust his judgement on both the offensive and hilarity factor of the show, based on this review alone I am all the more gung ho about seeing it! What has me down right now is one comment on the above post saying ( among many other things I take issue with): there is a difference between bullying and oppression.

Now this is where this post gets difficult and intensely personal:

Most of my life from kindergarden up to grade 9 I was bullied. I was beaten, teased ostracized, any attempt to defend my self was punish by “the establishment”, I felt alone, unloved even considered suicide once or twice ( thankfully only briefly).

My elementary school “best friend” would tease me and punch me if it would serve his purposes ( such as amusement), at recess, to avoid the teasing and physical attacks I would spend the entire time walking with the teacher ( something that was usually reserved for the bad kids)

In middle school I had personal items destroyed, hands slammed in lockers, still getting punched in the stomach, still no friends, no respite no shelter.

I also had no recourse. If I “told” I was a snitch and the beatings would increase. If I fought back I would get in trouble with the teachers. I was in a no win scenario… And this wasn’t some form of oppression?

The scars from that time are still with me today. Buried deep underneath in a dark place that I am scared to go. Some of the things that lurk there are: ” You don’t deserve love. You deserve to be alone” ” You will never amount to anything.” ” Why would anyone want to be your friend you are so weird!” Etc etc …

To say what kids go through isn’t a form of oppression, devalues everything I and ever other victim went through. The fact we survived, while so many tragically ended their lives is wasted because the rest of the world doesn’t think it is so bad.  I’m sorry. That won’t fly.

Am I at the bottom of the shit pole because of what I went through? HELL NO!!! Plenty of people had it just as bad and worse; but don’t you dare belittle what I went through. Why? Same reason the bullying stopped after grade 8… I fight back.

So go see November. Love it or hate it, it will spark discussion and might even make you change your point of view. Isn’t that what good theatre is supposed to do: Disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed?

Dropped from my brain to yours

45 Life Lessons Written by a 90 year old

I got this from www.kangalex.com/post/31729006624/45-life-lessons-written-by-a-90-year-old/. and I think it is brilliant!! This guy took 2 years of his life to learn each lesson ( on average) hopefully this will give us a head start

 

1. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short not to enjoy it.

4. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and family will.

5. Don’t buy stuff you don’t need.

6. You don’t have to win every argument. Stay true to yourself.

7. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.

8. It’s OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for things that matter.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up the present.

12. It’s OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don’t compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn’t be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye… But don’t worry; God never blinks.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful.  Clutter weighs you down in many ways.

18. Whatever doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It’s never too late to be happy.  But it’s all up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don’t take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Overprepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don’t wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words, ‘In five years, will this matter?’

27. Always choose Life.

28. Forgive but don’t forget.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give Time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn’t do.

35. Don’t audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old beats the alternative — dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d
grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. Accept what you already have, not what you think you need.

42. The best is yet to come…

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

44. Yield.

45. Life isn’t tied with a bow, but it’s still a gift.

 

My haunted theatre

As some of you know I work for the Art Court in a variety of capacities. But very often I find myself being alone ( or nearly alone) late at night. Here are some of the stories of hauntings that have happened to me personally.

First time I really started believing there was more to Arts Court then superstition I came in one morning turned on the lights. One of the lights in the front started to flicker. I asked it to stop…It did

 

During Secrets of a Soccer Mom I was in the booth following along with the play when all of a sudden one of the three actresses jumps 3 pages ahead. After the show I ask her what happened… she tells me just before she skipped she felt a blast of ice cold air go just on her neck under her ear and she just blanked… This was the summer that the AC wasn’t working.

 

I’ve also had the walking walking down the hall knowing the building is empty and heard footsteps behind me….I stop walking and the steps continue… I’ve heard someone calling my name agains in an empty building.

 

Tonight we had a new person working front of house on the theatre level. She asked me about ghosts I told her the stories. After the audience left she was doing the final cleaning when the door opener on one of the washroom opens the door all on its own. Then after she left and it was just the people in saw I hear a banging sound. I check both doors to see if anyone is waiting at them they aren’t.

 

I kept occasionally hearing the banging and I keep checking the doors that lead out side. I go to check SAW to make sure they are leaving. As I pass the washroom in the front.  As I passed the washroom that has been locked all night there came a loud bang inside. I check it again and the only lock engaged is the external key lock.

Have any of you had a similar experience at Arts Court? Another Theatre? Another place altogether? Let me know in the comments!

 

(Spookily) dropped from my brain to yours.