A Very Ecclectic Portfolio
Everything is connected - by exploring one thing, we can explore ALL things
How you do one thing is how you do EVERYTHING
What follows is a strange and seemingly random collection of projects. I have always treated my inspirations and the requests people make of me as direct instructions from the Divine. Thus, I always strive to complete each project with the utmost dedication and the humility to learn new things. Each project gave me lessons, skills, and a very interesting story. Thank you for taking the time to check them out!
The Blindness Challenge
Back in 2011, I was inspired to challenge myself to go without sight for 10 days and nights. I wore a ski mask covered in electrical tape to block out all light. What prompted this? Well, I was a wrestler in my youth, and my school didn’t have enough wrestlers to have its own team, so we partnered with the W. Ross MacDonald School for the Blind, which was just up the street. Wrestling alongside blind athletes was one of the most special experiences I’d ever had. And if you’re curious, let me answer your question - no, blind wrestlers are not actually at any disadvantage over sighted athletes. A skilled wrestler can actually feel everything they need to know through contact with their opponent. Anyway, I heard that to volunteer for the school, one has to wear a blindfold for a day, which makes total sense - if you’re going to guide blind people, you need to know what their experience of the world is!
That idea always stuck in the back of my mind. Fast forward 10 years from my wrestling days - now I’m a professional circus artist, I am interested in taking on the challenge of experiencing blindness, and I don’t like doing anything halfway. So I decided on a length of 10 days. I didn’t want to dip a toe into the experience, I wanted to be fully immersed! My goal was to go about life as normal (training juggling, unicycling, and acrobatics, cooking and cleaning, being social, etc.) so that I would have as realistic an experience as possible.
What followed was a very interesting experience indeed! Thankfully I had help from friends who wanted to both support me in my challenge and also make fun of me at the same time. Fair enough! They would guide me to the juggling club meetings where I would do my best to continue my training with no vision. They also made me a set of paper “eyes” to tape on top of my ski mask, for comedic effect.
What I learned from this project:
Juggling, which relies entirely on vision, was simply not possible. Dropping the balls was frustrating because then they’d roll away and I’d have to try to find them and I’d spend over 90% of the time just trying to find the balls instead of practicing
Unicycling, which relies largely on vision, was possible, but utterly terrifying! Balance on a unicycle is governed more by our vestibular sense (the liquid in our inner ears which tells us if we’re upright or not) and our proprioception (our sense of position and movement of our body parts) than our vision. Even though my balance was not disrupted, it was extremely nerve-wracking to not be able to plot a safe course through my environment. And even though I trusted my guides, my nervous system was NOT happy about the whole thing!
Acrobatics (handstands, not tumbling) were only slightly more difficult without vision, so this is what I spent most of my time on
Travelling through a space requires references - if you don’t know what the space looks like, where you are in that space, AND what direction you’re oriented in, it’s next to impossible to navigate. All of these things require sight. UNLESS you travel only along walls or edges. Which explains why the Blind School had so many handrails
People LOVE to make fun of you if you’re blind (or maybe I just need better friends!) Seriously though, people played jokes at my expense CONSTANTLY. For example, one of my friends dressed up in a banana suit while he was guiding me around and everyone would laugh at the fact that I was the only one who didn’t know. And they made me look very silly with the paper eyes they attached to my goggles. I had to develop a thick skin and learn to enjoy it. This mirrored my experience in youth - other wrestlers were always playing jokes on or making fun of the blind athletes, who also had to develop a thick skin and laugh along. For the record, I always took my job as a guide very seriously and never took advantage of the power discrepancy
I was incredibly lucky to get to take off my blindfold at the end of the 10 days. Blind people cannot “take off” their blindness and I appreciate now just how blessed I am that this was an experiment for me, and not my life.
I actually documented my experience in a very low-quality video (what do you expect? It was almost 15 years ago!). Here’s the link if you want to check it out!
Opening a Circus School
In 2011 I was hoping to expand my impact in the world and do more exciting things. To this end, I decided to reach out and offer to find ways to be helpful to people in the field of circus arts. After reaching out to some folks in Toronto who owned a couple of circus schools, I was astounded when they replied, asking if I wanted to run a brand new circus school here in Guelph. I was so humbled and grateful for the opportunity - it was probably the most exciting thing anyone had ever trusted me with.
Keen to do anything I could to make it successful, I rallied the circus community that I had spent years building, and we brainstormed ideas to get the word out. I ended up hosting a competition for “who can hand out the most flyers”, offering my face as a canvas for the winner. For some context, let me explain - I would occasionally shave interesting patterns into my facial hair, just for fun. The winner would get to decide on a pattern for me to shave into my face. Within reason, of course! The winner, Joanne Tofflemire, a great lover of cats, picked the design of cat paws. It took me over 4 hours to shave the paws into my face, and I wore them proudly on our first day of classes!
The Circus Academy opened in 2012 and over the four years it was open, we shared deeply meaningful, and in some cases, life-changing experiences with hundreds of students, both kids and adults. Getting to see my students come alive and find a deep joy and appreciation of themselves was an incredible reward, and I’m extraordinarily grateful to have had that opportunity.
What I learned from this project:
EVERYONE is capable of being a star. Which is to say, everyone is worthy of being celebrated. And when they are, they light up like a lightbulb. Every single student, regardless of body type, athleticism, physical skill, shyness, or any other factor, was capable of achieving success. Between juggling, trapeze, vaulting, unicycling, clowning, aerial silks, and all of the other arts we taught, everyone found the area they shine in. And when they got on stage in front of their peers and did something they were proud of, no matter what it was, the applause transformed them. When we are celebrated, it’s like sunshine for our soul. Several of our students literally transformed their entire lives through the experience - they came in shy or shut-down, having been told throughout their life that the way they are is a problem (think of children who don’t behave well in the classroom or who may be overweight or just socially awkward), and they left full of confidence that comes from within. They know in their hearts that they pushed through something that was difficult for them and that when they were truly themselves in front of a crowd, they were applauded and celebrated like crazy! The act of performing requires a kind of courage that changes you as a person, and I am immensely proud of each and every student we had!
If you have a dream for something great, stand up and ask for it to happen! The school would never have opened if I didn’t reach out and ask if I could be helpful. I didn’t at the time have the confidence that someone I’d never met would trust me to run a circus school for them. But when I showed up, willing to be of service to the world, it rewarded me with something incredible. I had to grow in order to do the job well, but that’s always how it should be - if you wait until you’re “ready”, it’ll never happen because you BECOME ready BY DOING IT.
Running a summer camp for close to a hundred excited children who are engaging in potentially dangerous activities (like hanging upside-down tied into silks 20 feet in the air), while ensuring everyone’s safety, happiness, and changing lives, is EXHAUSTING! And incredibly rewarding.
Cups of Gratitude
Alright, this is a strange one so you’re going to have to bear with me! I promise that, as random as it seems, it is actually deeply connected with my professional work.
Creativity is a strange beast, and by definition, defies our understanding - it’s the mysterious, ineffable force that takes a large variety of inspirations, combines bits of them, and then spits out a whole new idea. This ongoing project is one of those very strange combinations of many ideas rolled into one.
The short version is that I spend an extraordinary amount of time and care to make exquisite cups of various sizes (anywhere from small espresso cups to giant mugs), using primarily wood and resin, and then give them away to any and everyone. By this point, I have given away dozens of cups, representing many hundreds of hours of labour.
The best way I can explain it is to say that the Universe gave me an incredible gift. Well, a whole bunch of gifts, really. It gave me creative visions of interesting new cup designs, stunningly beautiful materials, time and energy and tools to make them, a deep passion for hard work and service, and a desire to spread beauty and gratitude in the world.
With hundreds of designs for cups that I have made and that I have yet to make, I think of it almost like Santa’s sack - I have all of these gifts to give away, the only problem is that the nametags on each of these presents was lost in transit! Basically, I feel like I’ve got a big sack of beautiful things and no idea who they belong to. In reverence for the beautiful objects, I have taken it upon myself to convey these gifts from the universe to their intended recipients, taking great care to make sure that I don’t fumble them in the process. This means that I have to work on my patience (I don’t naturally find hours of sanding to be a fun experience, and I often find myself wishing I didn’t have to!), my work ethic, my humility (it can be hard to give away a beautiful work of art that I’ve just spent about 50 hours carefully crafting!), and my overall dedication.
Performing this work for the universe rewards me more deeply than I can say, but I’ll try. The excitement of having a creative vision for a design is a gift. The puzzle of thinking through the fabrication process is a gift. Working with indescribably beautiful wood and resin is a gift. The pleasure of working with well-crafted and precisely calibrated tools is a gift. The challenge of actually taking the project from an idea to a physical cup is a gift. The lessons that I learn along the way are gifts. The exercise in non-attachment as I have to give the cup away is a gift. The smile on the face of the recipient as they receive an exquisite and unique gift is a gift to me. In short, I get paid about a hundred times for my labour, and I’m wondering how I got to be so fortunate to get so many gifts! Also, it’s such a mystery how I actually get more gifts in the process than the person who walks away with the cup!
You want to hear the most interesting part? EVERY SINGLE TIME someone sees my work, the universal response is “wow, those are so beautiful, you should sell them!”
I’m not going to lie, it drives me a little nuts. For many reasons. The first is that I already got paid a hundred times in the process, so why would I need to take anyone’s money in addition to that? Besides, who says that I want a dollar figure attached to something that is so precious and unique? I spend an average of 40-50 hours on a single cup making sure it is as perfect as my skill and tools allow. Even at minimum wage, not counting the cost of tools or materials, that’s $700-$860. Would YOU pay that much for a cup? And even if you DID pay me for it, I would feel insulted because the money is a very poor reflection of how hard I worked to make it as perfect as I can. Not only that, but I would try to make the next cup faster by cutting corners so that I can maximize my profit for the amount of time I put in. That is the polar opposite energy to what I want - I don’t want to be governed by “how little time and energy can I put into this?” I want to be governed by “I love this so much, how can I put MORE time and energy into this?”
I dislike that we have all internalized that it’s ok to take the most beautiful things in our world, which in my mind have infinite value, and reduce them to a lousy dollar sign. It cheapens them and sullies the energy completely. It also tells us that only the rich deserve access to beauty. My cups of gratitude are meant to help us all understand that you don’t need to hustle and accumulate more dollars in order to be worthy of beauty. It is all around us and an unconditional gift from the universe.
The hardest part of this endeavour, believe it or not, is getting people to accept my gift. I have a shelf full of cups that no one will take. When I say that I give them away, people get excited at the thought that they could have one. But when I give them my card and tell them to come pick one out, no one has ever taken me up on it. Not one. If I want to give away my cups, it has to be initiated by me, and I often have to chase people down or help them deal with their resistance to accepting it.
Would YOU like a cup? If so, please don’t hesitate to reach out! You can have one that I’ve already made or I’d be happy to collaborate on a design together (again, no one has ever done this)
What I learned from this project:
The act of living in gratitude and focusing on the joy of giving provides an extremely disproportionate reward. I gain far more from my work than I put in. Certainly far more than if I got a fistful of lousy dollars!
By disrupting the insidious ways of our capitalist culture (which insists on maximizing profit and minimizing input), I am paving the way for us all to be more generous with our energy and to participate in the re-humanizing of our world. I have learned that nearly everyone wants to break away from the monetization of everything, and they just don’t know how.
Most people don’t believe that they are worthy of beauty and that it must be earned. I find this very sad and I will work tirelessly to change it!
I learned how to detach from my ego and greed, both relinquishing my claim on these beautiful cups, and also deferring all praise to the universe - after all, I didn’t grow the wood myself! I just revealed the beauty that was already in it for the world to see it better. Praise the universe, not me!
Living in service requires constant humility and being open to seeing personal shortcomings so as to improve them. I cannot make excellent works if I don’t have the patience to sand through all the grits!
Setting 5 World Records
Here’s the thing - we have a social hierarchy in our world. It’s an ugly reality, but it’s real nonetheless. Even the most polite and socially responsible among us often give (or withold) respect for others based on their social standing. At the top are doctors and lawyers and judges. At the bottom are… well, clowns and jugglers and street performers. When’s the last time a parent told their child that they should become a juggler as a career? Which is ironic, as professional jugglers are about on par with surgeons for their dexterity and precision of movement. The difficulty of keeping just a simple 5-ball pattern in the air is so astronomical that it literally takes thousands of hours of training to be able to do it for even just a few seconds.
When I tell people that I am a professional juggler, I often get asked if I’m also a “carnie”. For the record, please don’t ever use this term to refer to me, or any highly skilled circus artist. Don't get me wrong - “carnie” (short for carnival) folk are often fine people, but their only qualification for their profession is that they have a ride or a booth or a game to bring to carnivals. Whereas, for a circus artist to do their job, they need to work like a crazy person for years, pushing through the pain, the frustration, and all the critics to be able to do things that most people consider impossible. We also get paid very little and risk life and limb on a daily basis in order to spread joy to the world.
All of this is to say that, even if people think that what I do is amazing, it’s still seen as trivial, unimportant, and worthy of being looked down on. Reading this, you may doubt my words, but you can trust me on this one - after nearly 20 years in this industry, I have encountered so many subtle (and not-so-subtle) suggestions that I have less than a normal amount of social standing because of my work.
So how does a humble circus artist go about acquiring respect? Well, the route I chose was to do something remarkable. Like setting 5 world records. The trouble is that, to be honest, I’m not that good at juggling! I’m nowhere close to the best at… well, anything in the juggling world! But one thing that I realized is that, if I just do something different from all of the other jugglers, I will make myself a category of one, and that means that setting a few records should be relatively easy.
I went about investigating the state of circus-related records with an eye for the things that I’m specifically good at. After only a bit of searching, I found it - there were very few claims on record for juggling while riding a unicycle. Bingo! That’s something that I can do fairly well! I narrowed it down to 5 records that I wanted to set - juggling 3 balls and 4 balls, 3 rings, 4 rings, and 5 rings, all while riding my unicycle. I wanted to do 5 balls also, but I wasn’t sure if I would be able to break the existing record.
Next, I needed to assemble some people to help me - while riding a 6-foot unicycle, it’s not possible to bend over and pick up whatever I have dropped. I have not yet learned the skill of becoming rubber-man and stretching my arms to the length of about 10 feet. I did a few weeks of training at the University of Guelph, where the juggling club still meets regularly, then came the big day! I set up a camera, and made a few attempts at each record, and with the help of my son (he was only 5 at the time) and a few other local kids who were excited to witness the event, I managed to record 5 world records!
Does this mean that I’m the best in the world at these things? Again, not even close! It would be much more accurate to say that I found a gap that very few people were aware of and used it to make my name as a juggler. There are dozens if not hundreds of people out there who are much better than I am at unicycling and juggling, it’s just that almost all of them never thought to record themselves doing it and submit it to the records database!
Does this mean that I’m a cheater? Pretending at glory when I know that I don’t deserve it? Well, not in my opinion - I always try to tell this story whenever I mention that I have the records. And the point I’m trying to make with it is that we can all do remarkable things if we follow our passions and the strange and obscure directions that they point. When we do, we will by definition be the best at what we do because we will be the only one doing it! And the bonus? People actually give me respect and are more willing to listen to my message of empowerment! So hey, I’ll take it!
What I’ve learned from this project:
- People aren’t very interested in things that they don’t understand - if I share a juggling pattern with an audience, they might appreciate it, but it mostly just goes way over their head (get it?)
- If I tell people that I set 5 world records, they can immediately understand that what I have done is extraordinarily difficult.
- Respect is given to each of us according to how serious or important our work seems to be. On its surface, juggling seems trivial and therefore doesn’t get much respect. But as soon as I say the words “World Record”, people immediately react by putting me much higher on the scale of respect
- If we go out of our way to do something different than others, we can easily become a category of one, gain respect, and feel a great sense of accomplishment!
What I learned from this project:
People aren’t very interested in things that they don’t understand - if I share a juggling pattern with an audience, they might appreciate it, but it mostly just goes way over their head (get it?)
If I tell people that I set 5 world records, they can immediately understand that what I have done is extraordinarily difficult.
Respect is given to each of us according to how serious or important our work seems to be. On its surface, juggling seems trivial and therefore doesn’t get much respect. But as soon as I say the words “World Record”, people immediately react by putting me much higher on the scale of respect
If we go out of our way to do something different than others, we can easily become a category of one, gain respect, and feel a great sense of accomplishment!
