165 articles Messymorphosis

Transformations during the 2016/17 radical sabbatical.

Alexander, Sitting and Standing

A million years ago, when I attended the National Theatre School, myself and the other two playwriting students in my cohort sometimes got tossed into classes with the acting students. There was rarely much explanation for it, and though the administration claimed to have an immaculate plan for our education, I suspect it most likely…

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Transforming Forties

One more tour around the sun under my belt. As I settle into my almost-but-not-quite-but-who’s-counting-mid-forties, I have to remind myself that birthdays can still be a good reason to celebrate. The current urge is mostly just to take stock, do a bit of habit-cleaning, and maybe, if there’s time, toast myself with a glass of…

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Generations

70 years ago, a baby girl was born who eventually grew up to become my mom. For a long time, I (like the child of many mothers) didn’t think of her as having had a life before I came along. Indeed, I’ve been in her life – either centre stage, or on the why-does-he-never-call periphery…

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Je Me Souviens

Despite now having an extremely busy jammed into the gap that separates my present self from my sabbatical self, France remains with me in powerful, often disconcerting ways. Some days, it washes over my mind in rich colours and textures, like a quilt that’s both exotic and familiar all at once. At other moments, it…

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Transfortressing Attendance

Attendance at the Fortress of Louisbourg has been up nearly 50% this summer, with well over 100,000 visitors arriving by car, motorcycle, motor home, or cruise-ship-by-way-of-coach-bus. The spike in attendance is partly due to uncommonly good weather, but mostly we can thank the federal government for its Canada 150-themed waiving of admission. As we marvelled…

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Transfortressing Nature

In June, it’s the swallows. They swoop down from roofs and rafters, trailing their forked tails as they search out the puddles surrounding the Dauphin Gate. On foggy Louisbourg mornings, they seem like stealth bombers, manifesting suddenly from nowhere as they zero in on their goal. They slurp up globs of mud in their stubby…

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