I was born in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, raised in the suburbs of Seattle in a Twin Peaks-y kinda town, the kind with 1960s housing developments and an undercurrent of wild magic and several casinos. I was raised by a pastor for whom social justice is a non-negotiable truth, and an urban planner who dons the Canadian tux and who can surprise himself with the force of his own laugh.
As a child I figure skated in my socks on hardwood floors to the Moody Blues. I was the younger of two children until the age of eight when I was suddenly the youngest of four, after two cousins joined our household. My older siblings who I admired desperately chased their respective passions into professional racing, forestry, and folkloric metal music. While they tinkered on guitar and hung bird feeders in our yard, I holed up in my room and memorized anthologies of Shakespearean soliloquy. (A memory bank that would come in handy later for some rapid-fire guerilla theatre.)
In 2004 I moved to Missouri to look for America. I found there a world of ambitious humility, human integrity, and authentic cultural renaissance. I developed a love for intimate performances and discovered thriving rugged spirits and the devastating effects of social censorship.
After an early career of sensible parallel play as a social worker and moonlighting actor, I had a hungry little idea. I started a small non-profit enterprise and quit my day job. For one year I supported myself with stilt walking gigs. I committed myself to cultural vibrancy, the breakdown of social barriers, and unapologetic commitment to artistic integrity.
In 2016 I moved to Canada where everything I thought I knew melted into a puddle. (I'm still in the process of re-solidifying.)
I still like to figure skate in my socks.
(photo: allan crain)