Take This In. Remember This.

Today is the first day of November. My American friends are thinking about Thanksgiving and planning for turkey. My British friends are thinking about "Remember, Remember the 5th of November" and planning for bonfires. At this point of the year, I'm usually binging on Halloween candy and looking forward to Christmas. In between the "celebration" holidays, Remembrance Day tends to sit in the back of the mind. It's a day that I do appreciate, but I'm guilty of forgetting until "the day of" and taking a moment to really appreciate it becomes an afterthought. This year it has been on my mind with much more weight than usual.

On 20 & 22 October 2014, two different attacks were carried out against Canadian  soldiers, killing two. These events were shocking to everyday Canadians as, fortunately, we are not accustomed to such attacks within our own country, and certainly not from one of our own. Much has been said about these events and as I tried to process it all from across an ocean, I went through a range of emotions: confusion at mixed reports, fear and sadness. I felt disgust at the complete lack of feeling required to kill an unarmed soldier acting as a ceremonial guard at a War Memorial. Finally, gratitude.

I cannot find the credit for this photo.
 If anyone knows it, please let me know!

I have always been grateful for my freedoms, but I know that I take it for granted. I really have to think to come up with many "large scale" homicides in Canada within the last few years. Last year, 3 RCMP officers were killed in Moncton, New Brunswick and in 2005, 4 RCMP officers were killed in Mayerthorpe, Alberta, which was the worst multiple officer killing in modern Canadian history. Of non-officer deaths, I can recall 2 incidents resulting in deaths in schools. Combined with last month's events, these are the most shocking Canadian events in my 29 year memory. The truth is though, that this is a small number and is a testament to our usual peaceful state and the current increase is an eye opener to what other nations experience almost daily.

Over the past month or so, London has been preparing for Remembrance Day by creating an immense poppy display in the moat at the Tower of London to commemorate 100 years since the start of World War I. With current events in my mind, I finally made my way over there this morning and I'm not sure I can accurately describe my feelings there. At first, I thought about how beautiful it is and then hoped that the mass of people thronging to see would not ruin the experience. Instead, those people made it that much more touching.

I watched as red-shirted volunteers worked alongside cadets and military personnel. They laughed with one another and assembled the flowers methodically and respectfully. They took photos together, probably having made new friends through this experience.

I listened to parents explain the poppies to their children, that each of the 888,246 ceramic flowers symbolized a British soldier killed during the war.

One little girl asked why the war started and her mother explained that someone wanted somebody else's land and power.

"A silly reason to start a war isn't it?" 

I was nearly moved to tears when I heard a woman say to a young child what a unique and precious experience it is. 

"Take this in. Remember this." 

I looked out at the sea of red poppies and thought about each one as a body, as a person. If nearly 900,000 poppies could fill a large moat, how much more would that number of people fill a battlefield? And then a cemetery?  How would it empty a heart? And not just the hearts of those who lost loved ones, but of those that saw that loss and survived? It's an incredible visual.

As far as I understand, the number of poppies do not include the deaths of Commonwealth soldiers. I wonder if the reason for this decision was that there simply was not room enough to include Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa casualties.

 As I made my way around the tower, through the crowds,  everyone was respectful in waiting for a place to get a photo and then politely making room for others. I felt that everyone was touched by the display. Even the usual chatter that accompanies such a large gathering of people seemed to be at a lower volume level. It was much more than a tourist attraction - it truly became what it had been intended to be, a memorial. There was a tangible feeling of respect and honour in the air.

My personal experience with war is incredibly limited, but I see more and more how it has shaped me. I remember school assemblies for Remembrance Day. I always thought I needed to have something something profound to think of during the moment of silence. It was easiest to think of my Grandpa, my Dad's father who had served as a mechanic for the Canadian Forces in WWII. He died when I was quite young and I was not able to get to know him as well as I would have liked. After he passed away, I remember going to my Grandma's and my Dad offered to show me his father's Dog-Tags from the war. I was fascinated and my young mind imagined the war as a great fairy tale of brave soldiers triumphing over evil. I felt proud that my Grandpa had contributed to that victory. 

My great-grandfather on my Mom's side served in WWI for the British Forces. I never knew him and didn't know much about him as a child.  Moving here, I have been able to learn more about him and how the war changed him. I see how it affected my Granny as she tried to understand a withdrawn father who refused to speak of it or receive recognition for any of his actions. She and her siblings then grew up through WWII, with bombings in England and rationing of food. That shaped her and how she raised her family and in turn, shaped the person my Mom is and who I am.

In my mind, I still sometimes imagine the world as a fairy tale place where good will always triumph, and I hope that this is true, but each day I better understand the cost.  It feels safe to say that we all know someone who serves their respective country, has given their life to do so or is a friend to someone who has lost a loved one. This year, I am more aware of them, and more aware of how lucky I am.

On 11 November, last year, I got on a plane to London and, essentially, started a new life. I was wearing a Canadian poppy on that day, and in the wake of recent news, I searched it out.  It has become a great conversation starter as classmates and tutors have noticed it and we compare it to the British one. Some of them are surprised to learn that it was a Canadian who wrote "In Flanders Fields". I learned that the leaf included on the British poppy is meant to represent 11:00, the end of the war.  I have learned about different traditions of Remembrance from my New Zealand friend who "remembers" in April with Poppy Day in commemoration of a battle significant to them. 

This past year has been a year of gratitude for me. I find myself constantly overwhelmed at the opportunities I am able to take and the people who support me in my goals. Today, I truly appreciate AND FEEL the freedom that allows me to have all this. When I think back to those school assemblies, trying to think the "right" thoughts and feel the "correct" emotions, I remember crying a little bit during "The Last Post", not knowing why, except that it was probably a good thing to do. I would wipe away the tears nonchalantly and hope my classmates wouldn't notice. Maybe it's all just part of growing up, but I understand now, and as my understanding increases, so too does my gratitude.

To that wise woman walking behind me today:

I have taken this in.

I will remember.

Grateful

I know that you're all expecting and, I'm told, eagerly awaiting an account of my first week at LAMDA. I promise some thoughts on it, but the topic that has been most on my mind recently is gratitude. Please bear with me while I get all of this out, otherwise I'll burst and no one wants to clean up that mess.

This past year has taught me so much. I expected that moving across an ocean, by myself, would cause certain adjustments, but I have learned about myself in ways I never expected. As a Temp, I've learned that I CAN do anything, often with little or no instruction. As a foreigner, I've learned that speaking English does not necessarily mean I am speaking the same language as another native English speaker! I've learned to look non-chalant as I look at my map, realize I've been walking in the wrong direction and turn around as though the u-turn was always my plan. I've learned to ask for help. I've learned to accept help. I'm learning how to really say Thank You.

In my first week at LAMDA, I was able to attend a performance of Shakespeare's "King John" put on by the graduating MA Classical Acting students, which included one of my friends from church. After the show, as she saw the group of us who were all there to support her, she put her hands over her heart and said "I really have no words. There are no words to say how much it means that you are here." I knew it was so much more than lip service. She really meant it and for a moment I thought "I know how you feel." I don't though. I'm just beginning. I'll know how she feels when, two years from now, I see my loved ones and find myself at a loss as to how to express my thanks for their support.

When I moved to London, one of my old employers gave me a beautiful notebook. I thanked her and promised that I would "fill it with only good things." This little book has become my "Gratitude Journal." I've committed myself to only write positive thoughts - even turning negatives into positives where necessary. For example, after my "intense" RADA interview, I wrote "I am grateful that the technical director pushed me to a breaking point in my interview to see how truly committed I am to this. And to  show myself how much I want this. I want it so much it scares me."

I am grateful for this book. 

During the past few weeks, as I've prepared for LAMDA, I have been very aware of how grateful I am for, well, everything. I've been thinking that my next blog entry would need to be a big THANK YOU!. During this time, a Gratitude Challenge has popped up on Facebook; friends nominate each other to post three things per day, for seven days, that they are grateful for.  When challenged, I thought, "I already try to do this. How will it change when I make it public?" I think this is such a good challenge; it's one of the few Internet Trends I'm willing to get behind. We spend so much time worrying about what we don't have, that we forget to recognize what we do have. It has been fun and also very enlightening to see what others have posted during this Gratitude Challenge. It is amazing what we see when we really open our eyes.

I've actually been thinking about gratitude for a long time, which I why I decided to use my pretty book as a record of gratitude. I would say that I've consciously been thinking on it since I graduated from film school. I was unemployed for a while and then had a job that made me miserable. Then I picked myself up and found work that made me happier, but still not happy enough. I fought the frustration of my circumstances (ie money) and the limited control I had over it, the knowledge that I would never be able reach my dreams on my own. Even when I made it to England and was able to take larger steps to my goals, I had to overcome the anger I felt at the injustice of support for arts education.

In all of these moments, I tried to remind myself that I had much to be grateful for, and this is where I learned something interesting. Just because I don't feel happy about "life", doesn't mean I'm not GRATEFUL for it. It was OK for me to be sad and that didn't mean I was ungrateful. (Some days I was ungrateful, but it's a work in progress.)  If I hadn't been as miserable as I was, I definitely would not have worked up the courage to move across an ocean. So, as cliche as it is, I am grateful for that trying time. I am grateful that it taught me to take action and that it has taught me to be grateful!

I do not intend for this post to be a sermon, but I really feel that I need to acknowledge the many things which I have to grateful for. As I think about gratitude though, I wonder if I really know how to show it. I'm a well trained, polite Canadian and I know my "Thank You" etiquette, but is that all gratitude is? As I find myself, as was my overwhelmed acting friend, without words, I realize that it is not enough to say "Thank You." I must show it. There must be an action of some kind.

This is not to say that the words are meaningless, but they can become hollow all too often. I like to believe that when I have said Thank You in the past that I have truly meant it, but I'm sure it didn't always sound that way. I know that the words I'm writting today are so much more sincere than they have ever been before.

Today my action is a list. If I listed everything that I am grateful for, it would be too much for just one blog entry, so I'll keep it simple. Probably not short, but simple.

1. My Parents. I cannot voice this enough. I have reached that magical time in one's life where I see my parents as regular human beings instead of rule making dictators. Their most recent sacrifice to help me pay for school is overwhelming, but more than that, it has been the years of sacrifice given so willingly to their family. Each summer, they packed the five of us kids into the van and took us somewhere new. It may have only been a few hours up the province or into the one next door, but they always made it happen. I remember campfires, ocean chasing, sea-shell finding and mountain hikes. I'm sure they only remember the cries of "Are we there yet?" They must have known they succeeded at least a little bit when we finally worked seamlessly together to put up that darn tent-trailer in record time. Or it could have been that we were being deluged by a thunderstorm and couldn't wait to get into bed. Today, I feel so proud and lucky to be their daughter.

2. My Siblings. Well, the parents were right. We're all friends now. Most days ;-) Somehow we managed to get through it all and become a weird little support system for each other. Perhaps it's because I'm the strange one who has managed to live with all but one of my siblings as an adult, but I really believe this! To praise each one individually would only embarrass all of us and fill a novel, so in short; they are marvellous. They are all such wonderful people who support me and my crazy dreams. Equally, I hope they know the support is reciprocated.

3. My friends. This applies to all of you. I'm the kind of person who always had one friend at a time. I can look at my life and name a single friend for each time period.  Elementary to Junior High. Junior High. High School. (I am from a small town after all... slim pickings) Then the first job. This city. That city. That house. This school. This other job. A few years ago though, the divisions started to get blurry. My friends in Canada and the USA were and have been so supportive of this change. My new friends in England have been so welcoming and equally supportive. I don't know how I've managed to have such great people in my life.
               As a sub topic, I would like to add that there are some very special teachers, employers and co-workers who I most definitely count as friends.

4. Church. Simply put, I'm grateful for the beliefs I have and how they have shaped who I am. I'm grateful for the peace I feel from those beliefs. I'm even grateful for it as an organisation. When I moved to London, I wasn't really alone. There was a built in network of people waiting to welcome and support me. I've had co-workers look at me in surprise when I tell them I made friends so quickly after moving here. I shudder now when I think of having to make friends in bars or clubs.

5. LAMDA. (I did promise some thoughts!) The tutors. Everyone at LAMDA is so eager to see us succeed. They set the bar high, but they are committed to helping us reach it. The tutors are so patient with us and they are excited about what they do. I am so grateful to be a part of this great family and look forward to the next two years of madness.

The first day at LAMDA.
A girl, her toolbox and dreams. 

Now, back to LAMDA. LAMDA is for me. I moved to London for me and I applied to LAMDA for me. My career is my own and what I will make of it. But it has become so much more. And for so many more. I have not made it here on my own, therefore I am not acting solely for myself. I am so aware of the many people who are now following my journey and who are cheering me on. With the many messages of "I'm so proud of you", "You inspire me", and "You're so brave", I feel a responsibility to live up to your expectations as well as to my own. If my journey can inspire even one other person to take a chance on their dreams, then these long winded blog posts are worth it.

LAMDA was the goal, which I've reached, so now I must make a new one. Here it is:

Be Brave. Be Kind. Be Grateful. 

I promise the next post will be more fun filled and less "touchy-feely", but for now, once more, with all the feeling that this keyboard can muster:

THANK YOU. 

Miracle #1 (Or: "Shock, Awe, Excitement and Terror")

This is the blog post that I've been dreaming of writing. For the last three years,  I've imagined how it would happen, what I would say, how I would feel and how I would express myself.
I'll try to be eloquent.

I HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED INTO THE LONDON ACADEMY OF MUSIC AND DRAMATIC ART!

My wonderful English teacher
at my high school graduation.
 My craziness isn't entirely due to my parents.
Blame public education. 

I was notified in mid June that I hadn't been accepted into RADA and after the July 1 deadlines, I was on the official wait list for LAMDA. I was beginning to lose hope and began preparations to interview with an Irish drama school. I had just booked my flight to Dublin when, the next evening, 11 July 2014,  as I packed up after a really crappy day at work, I got a call from LAMDA offering me a place! I ended the call and just sat at my desk in shock, trying to process what had just happened, trying to convince myself that it was real. 

I walked out onto the street and started typing a message to my mom, but then called her up instead. So, there I was, standing on a busy Central London street, trying not to cry as I told my mom that I'd been accepted. I think she was more excited than me! I was (and still am) trying to believe it. She has always believed I could do it. 

Since then, my life has been a flurry of activity; making all of the preparations that I knew would come at this point. I've secured a new flat that is closer to school, completed school registration forms, sent off my student loan applications and flown back to Canada to apply for my student visa. My parents have generously taken out a loan to help me with my finances, which is incredibly humbling. In fact, this whole journey has been incredibly humbling. I am amazed at the number of people who encourage me and are eager to see me succeed. I cannot adequately explain the emotions that surface when I think about my personal "cheering section."

"...Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. 

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; 

you have a right to be here. 

And whether or not it is clear to you, 

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

-Desiderata, Max Ehrmann

I'm still trying to process the reality of my situation and I think I'll be in denial until my visa is safely in hand and I'm actually back in London. I'm still afraid of this one last thing going wrong. For so long, I was afraid of not being accepted and  now I'm afraid my visa will be refused. It seems that there is always something to be afraid of. I'm still hesitant to fully rejoice in this moment, because it could still be taken away. The realist in me knows that these fears are silly and the faithful in me believes that it would just be cruel of God to tease me with this, only to take it away. I've come too far for it to fall apart now.

Another excerpt from my English teacher.
(Note: This is my messy writing; not her nice teacher's penmanship!) 

Moving to London has been an adventure. I could wax poetic about the ways in which I have come to know myself better. When I set off, I had a big dream, a small suitcase and the belief that a failed attempt is better than no attempt at all. Now that the dream is beginning to take shape, I am determined to give it my all, to prove to LAMDA that selecting me was a good decision, to prove that the belief of my loved ones is not misplaced and, most importantly, to prove to myself that I can do this. I am strong and talented. I will succeed.

Vincent: "But you're not armed." 

Doctor: "I am!"

Vincent: "What with?" 

Doctor: "Overconfidence, this, and a small screwdriver. 

I'm absolutely sorted." 

Drama School. Oh, the DRAMA.

*Note: Maybe you all know this, but I've discovered that if you click on the photos, they get bigger and you can scroll through them! You already knew that? Ok, back to business.*

I've been putting off the writing of this post for a while now. I needed some time to think on things for myself before I put my thoughts out into the world. I have now attended both interviews for the two schools that I have been dreaming about for the last two years. It has all led to this. The results of either of these interviews will determine my foreseeable future. The next year could be spent in the UK, before going home to re-evaluate my life. Again. Or, the next 2 years could lead to a lifetime in this country.

Leading up to my interview with RADA, I had given notice on my house without a replacement. My temp position had just ended and my finances were feeling strained from all of my travels. In my over-emotional state, I was convinced I would be homeless, unemployed and too stressed to interview well, thus not be accepted, never have a proper career and become a useless waste to humanity. I knew and know that this is a ridiculous mindset to have been in, but I was staring at the day I'd been planning for for two years and it didn't look at all how I imagined.

Fortunately, I have amazing friends who helped me to arrange a blessing from one of the priesthood holders at church and it really calmed my mind. I was assured that my Heavenly Father is mindful of me and that He knows the desires of my heart. It's what I needed to hear and I was able to put my other worries out of my mind to focus on RADA.

February 19, 2014
The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art
Never have two statues appeared more intimidating.
I think I'd rather have faced a Weeping Angel at that  moment. 

I arrived at RADA in good time; plenty enough to sit in the foyer and wonder how I had finally arrived at this moment. I thought of all of the people who had sat in this place before me: Ralph Fiennes, Michael Gambon, Vivien Leigh, Alan Rickman, Peter O'Toole, Anthony Hopkins, Tom Hiddleston, Alex Kingston, Fiona Shaw. I managed a sneaky photo of the foyer, complete with  a recent article about Hiddleston pinned to the cork board. I felt some relief that I'm not an actor attempting to get in. The competition is even greater for the acting program!

Foyer at RADA

There were four of us to be interviewed that day. Before the interviews began, we were given a tour of the school by a second year student. I was amazed at how big the school actually is. It looks so small from the street, but it's like Hogwarts... it just keeps expanding once you're inside! The largest of the school's theatres has a tension wire grid which we were allowed to climb up to and walk around on! It was a really cool experience.

RADA's Tension Wire Grid
(Credit to http://www.thecablenet.net/rada.php) 

The interview itself was....interesting. It began with light chit chat and I was feeling OK. I knew I had been over-emotional that week so I was trying to present myself as positive, collected and mature, with a bit of humour, which is my usual disposition. They were interested in my past experience in film and framing etc and I spoke of how I came to the conclusion that this is what I want to do. Finally, and quite suddenly, the main interviewer expressed his concern to me about my lack of experience and the possibility that I don't really know what I'm getting myself into. Basically, I felt he was calling me a flight-risk; that I'd get a place, change my mind and that place would be lost to a more deserving student. He apologized for the difficult question, but asked me to defend myself to his concerns. 

I'm sure the fear in my eyes was clearly visible at that moment and I felt myself choking up. When I said I would try to answer his question "eloquently, without getting emotional," he responded: "Maybe you should (get emotional). It might help your cause." What I then proceeded to say, I can hardly remember. I recall saying that I'm not willing to waste my time, let alone anyone else's and that if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. I admitted that by thinking I understand how much work it is, that I still have no idea, but failing is worse than not trying at all. I explained that I'd been working two jobs for the last two years, just to be able to afford to move here to interview, so I do not take it lightly. I rambled off other things, I'm sure, but when I reached that ever strange point where one no longer has anything to say, I sort of just trailed off. I was trying to think of something eloquent to say to make up for the ramble I'd just gone on, but he stopped me, smiled and said "that's what I wanted to hear." He then declared to other interviewers that they ought to put my out of my misery and walked me to the door. As I walked out, he re-assured me that I'd given a good answer and apologized for putting me through that. I was able to leave the building with composure, but I was holding back tears during my entire walk to the train station. 

I met up with two friends afterwards who were excited to hear how my day had gone. We sat in Kensington Gardens as they patiently listened to me exclaim "I've just moved across a bloody ocean to attend that interview. Isn't that commitment enough? What does he want from me?!" Now that I can look back on it,  I know what he was trying to do. I was so focused on trying to contain my emotions that I forgot that emotions are exactly what they are looking for. These schools are not looking for perfect grades or academic prowess. They openly announce that they want people who are passionate and teachable. That's it. I see now that I had my walls up to keep myself calm and he had to break them down as quickly as possible to see how serious I am.

As upset as I was, I am glad it went the way it did. It was a good reminder to myself of how much I want this. I think maybe I'd forgotten. Or maybe I've been afraid to truly admit it. The tears I fought were not really tears of sadness that the interview hadn't gone as perfectly as I'd hoped. I was frustrated with myself for not showing immediately how committed I am and I was scared that I'd just wasted my opportunity. I've been chasing this for two years. My commitment and passion should be completely obvious to anyone who speaks to me for more than five minutes. Sometimes I think I'm afraid to want this for fear of never obtaining it. 

"There are a lot of people in this world who are afraid of caring, or afraid of showing that they care because it’s uncool, it’s uncool to have passion. It’s so much easier to lose when you’ve shown everyone you don’t care if you win or lose. It’s much harder to lose when you show that you care; but you’ll never win unless you also stand to lose ... don’t be afraid of your passion; ...  just give it free reign, and be honest, and work hard, and it’ll all turn out just fine"

- Tom Hiddleston

I'm happy to say that the LAMDA interview went much more smoothly! It was such a contrast, in so many ways. I had found a place to live, without 4am electric guitar solos, which meant I was actually well rested and my new job had just began. My worldly cares were no longer an issue. I already had a portfolio prepared from RADA, so I didn't need to worry about that. I went to work in Holborn that morning, ate lunch at my friend's place near Paddington, and then continued on to LAMDA in Hammersmith. I did a have a train delay (I HATE the District Line), but I ran from the train station, heels and all, and made it to the school right at 2pm.

March 5, 2014
The London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art

 As RADA, there were four of us to be interviewed that day (all girls!), and we received a tour of the building from a graduate before the interviews. LAMDA will be undergoing renovations to build a new theatre next year, so a lot of the tour consisted of "this will be knocked down. That is going as well..."

CGI rendering of LAMDA's expansion
http://www.lamda.org.uk/support-us/act-now/our-new-facilities

I was up first for the interviews, which was nice. I missed out on chatting with the other candidates, but it was good to go straight in without time to sit and over-think. I could have just as easily pondered past alumni as I did at RADA. Let's see, LAMDA trained Richard Armitage, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Colin Baker, Jim Broadbent, Richard Harris, Antony Head, Benedict Cumberbatch, Katherine Parkinson, Patricia Hodge, Rory Kinnear, Donald Sutherland, and John Lithgow. I'm sure I've listed these before, but it's good to be reminded of the company I'll be in if I prove myself worthy to join this list.

I was disappointed that the program director who I'd met at the open house was not at the interview. I'd been feeling good about the fact that he'd know a little about me already, but he was unavailable for that day. The Technical Director and the Director of the Stage Management program led the interview in his stead. They were both very friendly and gave me a few minutes to introduce myself and talk about my portfolio before they started with their questions. That was a nice ice-breaker and it gave me a chance to present myself properly. RADA had prepared me for that! The man asked me some general theatre questions similar to ones I'd answered on a questionnaire at RADA, and then the woman asked me some specific stage management questions. I felt quite proud of myself that I could finally explain the difference between the Stage Manager, Deputy Stage Manager and Assistant Stage Manager!

The irony, though, is that I was able to explain the Stage Management hierarchy, but when she asked me what the process of rehearsing an actor's movement is called, I went blank and guessed "Cues?" When she responded that it's "blocking," I scoffed at myself. "Oh, it's the same as film. I'm over-thinking this, aren't I?" I was able to relax a little after that.

My favourite moment was when she asked me how I would go about sourcing a 1900s armchair for an onstage prop without using the internet. I mused about antique shops and then added "But I'd probably go to a library first." I was about to continue on about speaking to experts etc, but they both stopped me and said that "a library" was all they wanted to hear. I laughed and assured them that "I love a good library. You will have no problem getting me into one."

LAMDA was not without its own intense moments, though. When she asked me what my biggest/proudest accomplishment has been thus far, I asked "In life?!" I thought for a few moments and, in the end, I couldn't think of anything better than that exact moment. After a year of trying to get into film and then being really depressed and full of self pity, I had spent the next two years planning to get into that room. I explained how difficult it had been to face myself and ask what I really wanted from life and how I was going to accomplish it. Even typing in  a Google search for Stage Management programs had been nerve-wracking, because I knew that if I started down this path I would have to see it through. Really, I could have just said to her that sitting in that chair was my proudest moment, but I think it would still have required a little explanation!

Now, the wait begins. I've yet to hear from RADA, but the shortlist is  the best result I'm expecting at the moment. Both schools will continue to take applications until the end of March, so there are very few places that will be offered before they finish interviews.

The good news is that I received a letter from LAMDA yesterday and I've been placed on the shortlist. I'm excited for it, but I'm also dreading that it's just more time to have my hopes up and then dashed with rejection. If the answer is "No", I'd rather know right now! They've stated that I should have an official result in mid-June: 2 1/2 months more of waiting. (FYI, acceptance rates are 1 in 5. Those are my odds.)

So, dear readers, you are now subject to 2 1/2 more months of dealing with me dealing with the unknown. Not to worry though; given my track record, that'll only be 2 Blog posts to read! I do have some interesting ideas for fun posts though; less about me and more about London. Let's just say that The Underground can be a very entertaining place! 

Slow Progress & Tender Mercies

Since my last post, I've had a couple of days where the reality of being in a huge city, with no job, has felt really heavy. It's hard to know where to begin and I felt as though I'd used up all of my motivation energy in just getting here. To my own credit, there has not been a day where I've not accomplished at least one task that contributes, at least a little, to moving forward. Somedays, it has just been to find a stationary store in which to buy push pins and a calendar to plan with. (I love having a calendar on my phone, but sometimes you just need to write things out.) Other days, it has been more pro-active, such as going to a recruitment agency, like a grown up. Weird.

High and lows are to be expected, I know. The last couple of days have felt low. I've tried to focus on the fact that I've accomplished part of my goal, just by getting here, and now I live in an amazing city. I went for a walk in Kensington Gardens on Monday, thinking that I would enjoy the peaceful scenery and contemplate life. Well, my local train station had no power and I spent most of my walking time on the streets, so by the time I got to the gardens it was getting dark, I was cranky at public transit and it wasn't nearly as enjoyable as I'd hoped.

A peaceful bench in Kensington Gardens. I should have just sat there for a while.... 

Today, I made the decision to be positive and pro-active. I planned to go to the LDS Employment Centre, which opens at 12pm.  I completed the online registration forms in the morning and then I decided to check on the open houses for the two drama schools that I'm looking at. First, I checked on RADA and had a little moment of despair. In the two weeks since I've been here, the Open House has been announced and completely filled. There will be more in the new year, but it put me into a little bit of a tail spin. Attending these open houses has been the driving factor in coming here when I did. I've been checking for confirmed dates almost religiously over the last 2 months, and in the last two weeks, I missed it. I took a deep breath and checked on LAMDA. There is an open house this weekend, so I crossed my fingers and sent out an e-mail of inquiry. In a moment of defiance to "the world", I then registered for online applications to LAMDA and saved the RADA application form to my travelling USB stick to have printed later in the day. Take that, world. 

Determined not to let myself stay cranky, I stuck to my plan. I found a copy shop close to the South Kensington station, printed the application forms and then went over to the employment centre. Luckily, it is in the same building as the church, so I at least knew how to find it! The church building is quite multi-purpose, actually. The main floor foyer serves as a small Visitor's Centre, with the gym and the chapel on the same level. There are a couple of floors for classrooms, offices and the employment centre.

I trudged my way up the stairs to the 3^rd floor and soon remembered that the Brits don't count floors in the same way as Canadians. Call me a traditionalist, but the first floor is the one on the bottom. Here, it is: Basement, Ground, 1^st , 2^nd, 3^rd etc. So the 3^rd floor is actually the 4^th floor to my brain. I digress... A Senior missionary couple greeted me enthusiastically as I entered the empty room. Their shift was ending, so after a brief chat, they passed me along to the incoming volunteer, a Caribbean woman, who was very fun to talk to. We went over my CV and discussed my situation. I talked about theatre and my struggles with knowing how to approach it. She was very encouraging and suggested I send an e-mail to a few of the “umbrella” companies that own the theatres, asking how I could apply or when to expect C.V.s to be accepted. (I've been stumped by many theatre groups posting that they usually take resumes of interest, but aren't anymore, but will be soon. How does one respect that, but still show interest?)

She also gave me list of job finding websites and suggested a few that would be best to begin with. I asked about electronic retail stores and photo labs that would be easier for me work in without much training. I still feel the weight of finding work, but it feels better having a few places to start from. I don't like the idea of “pounding the pavement”, but it has to be done. Starting is the hardest part. I do need a wardrobe update though. (See? I'm making delays... I'll go out when I have the right clothes....) There is a store here called “Primark” that everyone says is really cheap but doesn't look it. I said to her that I need to go to Primark to get some good walking/dress shoes and dress pants. She laughed that I already knew what Primark was! So, that is tomorrow's plan. I hate shopping and I hate job hunting and now I have to do both. Maybe shopping in London will be more enjoyable than in Canada. Here's hoping.

Hyde Park LDS Chapel on Exhibition Road, South Kensington

Now to the real point of blogging today. (Still with me?) Two sister missionaries were sitting by the desk on my way out and started talking to me. I said that I'm new to the city and the ward etc. They're both nearing the end of their mission, so I warned them that going home from a mission feels really weird! I joked about being old, having been home for 5 years now (wow), and then we laughed about the age change bringing out so many missionaries who look 12. They then offered to give me a little tour of the church and tell me more of the history of the area. I agreed. The church was built in 1960, but has only been a Visitor's Centre for 2 years. In fact, when they both got their mission calls, it wasn't made entirely clear that they would be VC sisters because all of the final details were still being worked out!

They showed me a little video on a fancy touch screen TV (aren't we tech-savvy Mormons?) It was about the history of the church building itself. The building is on the same street as the Science Museum and the Victoria & Albert Museum, just down from the Royal Alberta Hall.  I have been wondering how the church managed to get such prime real estate! The spot where the church is now located used to be a high end residential row and, at one point, was owned by a wealthy doctor, his Russian wife, 2 children and 6 servants! Unfortunately, the building was destroyed during the bombings of World War II and was never rebuilt. When Pres. David O McKay made the assignment to find property for a chapel, there was not a member of the church living within 7 miles of the spot that was proposed, but the decision was made to buy this little historic area of land. There are now 3 wards that meet in the building, as well as fulfilling the other uses that I've mentioned earlier.

World War II bomb damage on the wall of the Victoria & Albert Museum. 

When the video finished, one sister asked what I liked about it. Almost without thinking, I answered that it shows that good things can come out of such horrible destruction. She agreed and then said that she can relate that to her life; we can feel like we are in the middle of a bombing in our life and then we later realize that God was always aware of us and that He always has a plan. It was exactly what I needed to hear and I'm sure I looked at her in shock for a moment. I could easily be cynical about her comments and think that she probably says that after each of the hundreds of times she's shown that video to someone, but it really touched me. I was suddenly so emotional. I tried to contain it as we talked more about life's surprises and blessings, as well as the joys of being a missionary. I thanked them for showing me that clip and said that I really needed it today. They gave the ever so humble missionary answer, deferring credit away from themselves.

As I exited the church and started walking towards the train station, I had to hold back tears, just as I'm doing right now as I write this. There was no lightning bolt sending down a little charred piece of paper with a list of instructions, and I still feel very unsure of pretty much everything, but I do know that I'm not forgotten. 

I haven't put as much spiritual thought into this big move as I probably should have. The scriptures teach to “study it out in your mind” and then ask if it's right. Well, I did a lot of studying... and then I just did it. I basically looked at the sky and thought "If it's wrong, you'd better stop me." He didn't, so here I am. The thing is, I did the same thing when I moved to Vancouver. When I did stop to pray about it, all I could feel was love, that if this is what I wanted to do, then He was OK with it.

I think a lot of religious people, Mormons included, can get really caught up in the idea of “THE PLAN.” They fear making the “wrong” decision will affect eternal salvation. OK, some decisions, yes, but not all. I like to think of life as a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book. There are many paths, more than one of which can be right. God gave us each a brain; I think he expects us to use it.

The problem is, I may have been using my brain a little too much, over-thinking, as I tend to do, and it's making me a little crazy.  I've been so worried about having all of the answers and making a plan and finding a job “right now”, that I've just been giving myself unnecessary stress. Today was a reminder that I don't need to have all of the answers. All I need to know right now is that I haven't made a stupid decision in coming here, that it isn't a complete waste of time and money, and I will, someday, achieve all that I want to, if I'm willing to work for it.

Exhibition Road: The Science Museum on the left, Victoria & Albert Museum on the right.
LDS church visible with golden spire on the right. 

As I walked down Exhibition Road and looked at the amazing buildings, noticing for the first time the damage from WWII, I just thought about how lucky I am. I thought about my first week here, sitting in church and finally asking “Well, I'm here. Am I supposed to be here?” and feeling an overwhelming “Yes.” I don't know why the answer is yes, but for now, that will do. I know there are more ups and downs to come, but in this huge, amazing city, where I don't know anyone, I am not forgotten and I am not alone.

Epilogue: I got an e-mail from LAMDA on the train home; there is a spot available for me to attend the open house. Not forgotten :-)

Shakespeare Sunday: An Essay of Self Reflection

I know it's not Sunday, but it's tradition and alliteration, so I'm keeping it!

As ever, I hope that friends and family enjoy reading my blog, but it's really all about me, for me! My first week in London has given me a lot to think about and I need to get it out. 

Shakespeare has been in my head a lot during the last two days.  Yesterday was my first day of church in London and Shakespeare was quoted in one of the lessons! Today, I went to the Royal Shakespeare Company's broadcast of "Richard II", with David Tennant in the title role, the production design of which only confirmed to me, yet again, that I want to study Technical Theatre. I arrived home and decided to watch "A Muse of Fire", a documentary made by two friends who set out on a road trip to prove that Shakespeare isn't boring. Well, he can be a little long winded at times, but never boring.

Most people who know me, know that I love Shakespeare. I've made my blog header from photo of his reconstructed Globe Theatre for inspiration. And now I'm going to tell you why. Firstly, I don't claim to be an expert and I definitely make no claim to full understanding of everything he wrote, nor have I even read everything he wrote,  but that's really not the point. Shakespeare wrote amazing characters who are relatable, even today, despite the "language barrier." I strongly believe that you need to SEE a performance to really appreciate the brilliance. He wrote the words to be spoken and performed, not just read. Shakespeare wrote his plays over 400 years ago and today, in 2013, his words still have great effect and have put me in a mood of self reflection. 

At church yesterday, the teacher sourced a talk by Elder Lynn G. Robbins, of the Seventy, entitled "What Manner of Men and Women Ought Ye to Be?", which opens with Hamlet's famous question, "To be or not to be?"  Elder Robbins takes a very doctrinal view to this question, then quoting Christ's admonition for us to be like Him. The lesson continued in this manner, of course, but me, being me, my mind wandered away to my unknown future. What will I be? How will I get there? Am I completely insane to have just moved across an ocean?

"To be and to do are inseparable. As interdependent doctrines they reinforce and promote each other. Faith inspires one to pray, for example, and prayer in turn strengthens one’s faith."

- Elder Robbins

As Hamlet muses in the "To Be" speech, he is contemplating his next move and the consequences of the various actions he could take. To avenge his father's death, he must commit murder and he knows that will change him forever. To run from his situation, either by physical escape or suicide, it is not made entirely clear, would have equally drastic consequences.

Fortunately for me, I don't have a murderous Uncle to kill, but the decisions that I have made and am making are forming who I am, and who I will become.  

"Do without be—hypocrisy—portrays a false image to others, while be without do portrays a false image to oneself."

- Elder Robbins

Two years ago, this crazy thought came into my mind that I could move to England and go to drama school. At first, I didn't want to tell anyone for fear of mockery. Everyone was completely supportive; my mom actually said to me "Following your dreams is never crazy." I then became afraid of wanting it too much and never getting it. Finally, I decided that I was going to go for it, and REALLY go for it. I tried to talk about it as much as possible, willing it into a reality. Somehow, I believed that if I told everyone that I was going to do it, then I would have to! I didn't want to be that person who talks about all the great things that they're going to do and then never even try to accomplish any of them. 

This has been on my FB profile for a while; it keeps me going.

Another of my favourite plays is "Henry V". I love the character arc of Henry V, who first appears in  "Henry IV Part 1" as Prince Hal, who is a bit of a spoiled brat, really. He's spending his times in pubs; drinking, thieving and generally making his father wish his son had been switched at birth. Throughout some politics, war and a bit of eye opening to the true nature of his "friend", the jolly, but not so moral, Falstaff, Prince Hal recognizes that things that he has been doing are not contributing to the person he must BE. 

"Many of us create to do lists to remind us of things we want to accomplish. But people rarely have to be lists. Why? To do’s are activities or events that can be checked off the list when done. To be, however, is never done. You can’t earn checkmarks with to be’s."

-Elder Robbins 

"Henry IV Part II" ends with Hal being crowned king, banishing his pub mates and declaring to the whole assembly he is not what he was. Having discovered, or rather accepted, who he is, the rebellious Prince Hal becomes the great king who unites England and France. 

"The tide of blood in me

Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now;

Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, 

Where it shall mingle with the state of floods, 

And flow henceforth in formal majesty."

In "Henry V", Hal, now King Henry V, soon goes to war when France will not grant him the Dukedoms which he has claim to as an heir of Edward, the Black Prince. "Henry V" is filled with amazing warrior poetry, especially the famous "St.Crispin's Day/Band of Brothers" speech. My favourite, however is the pep talk he gives to his soldiers as they are pushed back from their attack on the French town of Harfleur.

You can see this performed on film by Laurence Olivier or Kenneth Branagh. Here is an abridged, impromptu performance from the most recent Henry V, Tom Hiddleston.   I never tire of watching this. I LOVE THIS SPEECH. 

My favourite lines: 

On, on, you noblest English.

..

Dishonour not your mothers; now attest 

That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.

...

 And you, good yeoman,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;

Henry appeals to the very heart of his soldiers' motivations: their families, their roots, their country. He says "Remember why you're here, remember why you're fighting. Show me the greatness of your family, and your country, by your actions here today. I know you can BE great. Prove it." 

As a brief aside, I once prepared a lesson about Captain Moroni after watching the recent BBC version of Henry V. The parallels are astonishing. It could be an entire blog post unto itself. Seriously, I'm sure Moroni and Henry are best friends in heaven right now. 

Henry V : "Dishonor not your mothers, now attest that those whom you call'd fathers did beget you....Cry God, for Harry, England and St. George!" 

Captain Moroni: The Title of Liberty

"In Memory of our God, and religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives and our children." 

After University/Film School, I was in a bit of rut; that unemployed-watching-way-too-much-TV time, during which my dad and I had a bit of a heart to heart one day. I don't know if he remembers this, but it has stuck with me. He said "You're the one that we never worried about, don't prove us wrong." This is no attack on any of my siblings, and I'm sure that my parents did worry about me often, but I think he said it to make the point that I've always had a plan;  I've always been working towards something. I'm the crazy dreamer of the family. The dream has changed a few times, but it's only been when I have no goals and no plan that I become depressed and unbearable to be around. (At least, I hope that's the only time I've been unbearable. My siblings would probably argue that point.) 

So, here I am. In England, trying to prove to myself and to my wonderful family that I am worth my breeding, that I can BE whatever I choose.  I know that I have everything that it takes to accomplish my goals, because I have amazing people in my life who support me and have taught me to work hard and believe that following a dream isn't crazy. 

I'll conclude with Lady Macbeth's advice to her husband as he's about to commit murder and treason. Why not?

Macbeth:

If we should fail?

Lady Macbeth: 

We fail?

But screw your courage to the sticking place, 

And we'll not fail.

PS: If I've at all piqued your interest in Shakespeare, check out David Tennant as Hamlet, Branagh or Olivier as Henry V or see the full character arc of the "Henriad" in "The Hollow Crown", starring Ben Wishaw as Richard II, Jeremy Irons as Henry IV and Tom Hiddleston as Henry V.