Childlike vs Childish.

A few weekends ago, I attended one of VIFF (Vancouver International Film Festival)'s red carpet events with some of the cast and writer, Nick Willing, of Olympus. In my hurry to pack, before coming out here to film, I had neglected to bring any of my prized dress clothes, my freakum suit, if you will. Between my lack of clothing options and having been denied a haircut, I had to make the best of the situation and try to SLAY in my converse, Beatles wannabe/Justin Bieber mop and paisley tie.

I met someone I admired that night and was excited by the opportunity to ask them specific questions, but instead of listening to my questions they bombarded me with their rehearsed bit of "advice". Instead of us truly connecting and perhaps developing a mentorship, I walked away disappointed and embarrassed that I had ever put them on such a pedestal. Upon returning to my fellow cast mates I was reminded by them to never become that kind of person and always strive to make real connections with fans, and people who look up to me as an artist. It cemented for me how there is a large portion of this industry that is looking for meaning in their life through success and fame, that their person is defined by the amount of people who know them. They lose sight of the work, and forget what they are fighting for (if anything).

Nick Willing, Sonita Henry and I spent the day together on Sunday and the two of them really got me thinking about what it is that has drawn me to this profession. What is it that I'm truly fighting for in life, beyond the stage, beyond the camera, what is it that makes my heart beat? Nick spoke about how we are hunting for the things that give us meaning and once we find what those are it is relatively easy to achieve them. The issue, or hard part, lies in the fact that we spend so much time distracting ourselves from what we truly want, we settle for what we think is comparable, or just completely deny our dreams altogether.

When I skyped with my good friend, Lisa, I mediated on this idea with her, "What exactly do I want?" I concluded, for now, that I'm looking for complete empathy for the human race. I want to understand how I operate, how others operate, what makes people tick and why we do the things we do. I want to have the ability to show people themselves, humanity, and what they could be if they also fought for what they love. 

Over the last few weeks I have had moments where I've noticed how childlike this whole situation (acting) is; Here we are, dressing in costumes, playing on a set that had been constructed for our imaginary world to exist in, while others were trained how to capture our moments of pretending; it's professional child's play. And I'm paid to do it. When I reduce it down to that rationalization it becomes so much less grand, it brings me back to playing Digimon with my brother on the front lawn; the worlds we created, the characters we played, the lives we lived in those few hours between after school and supper time. It suddenly became demystified. Acting really is having the imagination of a child, while impressing it on adult situations.

To quote the Bible, "Be childlike, not childish." - Luke 7:31-5

This realization may seem obvious or rudimentary, but it's so easy to let acting become cerebral and revolve around wit and trickery, when in reality, it's corporeal and honest. When one sees a child truly feeling something, one is there with them. We are forced to be present with that child because the stakes for them are so high. This is what I'm hunting for, that effortless call upon my emotions, honestly, the bravery to look anything but attractive. There are obviously schools of thought that believe acting can be broken down into steps, but really, I'm discovering that it's just the opening of ones mind, breaking down walls and reclaiming that sense of play we all had as a child.

Lisa also spoke about bringing this childlike bravery to auditions and letting them be fun, and simply a chance to play rather than seeing them as this massive, career-defining thing. If I can go in and truly see these casting directors in their underwear, so to speak, then it adds humour and allows me to release the pressures that I'm fabricating in my adult brain, "I need this job, I need this money, I hate my Joe job, save me from the seventh level of Hell that is customer service, etc."

By letting childish tenancies into the work, one takes away from the process. By letting ones emotions and personal insecurities into the work, at any level, one takes away from the world that the brave are creating. One has to learn how to interact and maintain the work with a childlike innocence and play, while still dealing with the world as an adult. It's a balance that I'm determined to find. 

Being at that event solidified how many childish: self-interested, vain, rude, narcissistic, and shallow people there are in this industry.

My fight for ultimate empathy requires me to treat everyone with respect; myself included, and stay true to my dream, regardless of how they treat me. I cannot afford to let myself get bogged down or be self-depreciating, the longer I entertain those ideas the further away I get from my goals and the more power I give them in dictating my life. 

When we are born into this world we don't know what fear is, we are open, malleable vessels who only know how to love. For me, getting back to this place is the ultimate. 

W.

In the Air Tonight.

A few weeks ago, a (new) friend of mine offered to take me hiking up the Stawamus Chief Mountain in Squamish, outside of Vancouver. Before this hike, the two of us had only met briefly on set through a mutual friend. Due to the lack of people my age in the cast I thought it would behoove me to not take advantage of meeting a new person, who might share some similar interests. Turns out we like a lot of the same things and are able to keep a decent conversation flowing; gotta love when I find those people. We met up downtown and drove out to the mountain, the terrain getting up to the peaks was far from easy but the view made up for it. When we finally reached "Second Peak" I was speechless: It was easily the most spiritual experience I have had in a long time.

I looked around from this massive piece of land jetting into the sky with a cloud passing by my face and the sheer beauty was like nothing I had ever seen before. Of course, I have seen this kind of scenery in films, but to experience it first hand was nothing short of magical. Sitting atop that peak, with more-or-less a stranger, humbled me. It made me respect the Earth and despise how materialistic I've become, how self-centered I am by believing that my problems are so massive. When I looked down onto the town of Squamish, with it's industrial harbor pushing out into the ocean, I felt pity. Here we are taking this beauty for granted, chipping into it to make room for more stuff, bigger condos and flashier lifestyles. It made me sad to think about how we, as a race, are depleting this natural beauty that is the Earth, for fictional fabricated happiness. 

The whole time, probably to his displeasure, I kept saying to Jeff, "This was how people lived! Natives would have travelled up to these peaks; they would have gathered their food from these bushes and trees. This was there internet, their TV!" It brought me back to the childhood feeling of anything was possible in this environment, stories and histories started to fill my imagination. I felt in touch with my soul again, it was cleansing. To add to this experience, Jeff and I were bombarded by 7, rather tame, chipmunks who proceeded to loot us for our trail mix.

They were the most aggressive chipmunks I had ever experienced. They had no fear; they knew what they wanted and went after it. These little rodents ended up crawling all over us, one even started scratching at my closed fist, thinking I was hiding nuts from him: I felt like a Disney character. 

The hike reinvigorated me, made me realize that my issues aren't really all that big and allowed me to approach my work with (a little) less control. I've spent so much time trying to figure out what to do, how to be good, how to look as calm and free as everyone else, and everything else under the sun, when it all comes down to simply letting go and living honestly.

I had a breakthrough with Martin Wood, who was directing me at the time, he said, "Don't fear it. Simply accept it." Something that has been told to me numerous times but hearing it that day finally broke my walls down and allowed me to do some of the best work of my career. It was hard, but the hardest part was letting go, relinquishing all the vanity, safety and judgment that keeps ones barriers up. When I finally released I just let Lykos take over and I truly became a vessel. 

Having that happen to me allowed me to go onto set this Friday confident and able to do solid work. It was completely freeing to just have fun and let it be what it was. I left feeling awesome, as I did the week before. There is a part of me that wants to break down this "freedom" into liquid form so I can bottle it up and inject before every scene, but that's impossible and I know that with time, and more moments like the aforementioned, it will become second nature. The key really is confidence in my abilities and myself. 

Today, I spent most of my day reading and writing on the beach. 

I'm learning to let go of all that is superfluous and unnecessary, things that don't actually contribute to my ultimate happiness. I'm excited to return to Toronto and purge my apartment of things that I no longer need. As a race, we need so little to survive: Love. I'm blessed to have a massive amount of it. Being part of this show has taught me to truly appreciate and embrace the amount that I have, so much of the world is without it. 

Money, homes, cars, clothes, they are all symbols that we give value to; they do not make or break a person. Good people are good people, regardless of whether they wear Tom Ford or hunt in the bins at Value Village. I feel this quote from Fight Club is appropriate:

"You are not how much you have in the bank. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your f**king khakis."

I am wealthy, successful and happy because I choose to be, because of my attitude and the way I treat my fellow human beings. At the end of the day, it won't matter how much I own, but how many lives I touched through my art and my relationships. That’s what makes me rich. 

I don't know whether it's the air out here, or what, but I feel so pure and euphoric. I have less than a month left and as much as I'm sad to see this wonderful, and life changing journey come to an end I am even more excited about seeing what the tide leaves for me to discover once is goes out. From now on if I can eat well, drink often, play always, laugh a lot, dream vividly, create inspiring work, see the beauty of the world, listen to the best music, see great films, foster wonderful relationships, make brave choices and live with an open heart I will be the happiest man. 

Now to train those chipmunks to do my bidding....

W.

Save Me.

I love meeting new people, hearing about their lives, lessons they've learned, places they've travelled, etc. Not only does it add to my catalogue of characters, but also it allows me to see how other people deal with their lives and perhaps give me an alternative perspective on my own. Or in this case, how they avoid dealing with their lives. 

For those of you who didn't know, I was living, or rather dying a slow and painful death, in the weirdest, most disgusting house I have ever been in. If you remember, I was cast only 4 days before I was required on set for the show. This gave me very little time to find an adequate, and within my budget, place to live. 

I had to settle with the first option that Kijiji offered me, and settle I did. 

I began living with an elderly gentleman, whose wife died about 4 years ago, and a boarder who was essentially the blond version of Lurch from The Addams Family.  The wife had clearly been responsible for maintaining the house; I honestly don't think anything has been moved since her death, except for the gym equipment into the living room and the spices from the cupboards onto the deck... 

Now when I decided (had no choice) to move into this place, I thought, "This will be an adventure!" I gave the residents, of this rather sad home, the benefit of the doubt and thought, "We will become best friends by cleaning the house together!"

Well, I had been there for almost 2 months and neither the older man nor the roommate made any attempt to get to know me, or show any interest in speaking to me about their lives. Instead, they griped about me using the toilet paper or forgetting my keys. One day I was denied entrance into the house until I promised to not forget them ever again.

Now, from these pictures, I want you to visualize what the rest of the house looked like.

Got an image? Now picture 3 times worse. 

Essentially, I managed to touch as little as possible by not leaving my room or cooking anything. I was afraid I might contract some disease from an unmoved towel, or the hair covered utensils. 

I won't even get into the bug situation. 

Interestingly enough, Lurch's room was meticulous. Like, serial killer clean. The strangest part of his room was that he kept 3 pictures of people (probably victims), in frames on his bed. Not on his dresser, but sitting ON HIS BED! He didn't work, had barely any belongings and just watched TV endlessly. Occasionally he would walk the older man's ancient dog, clearly blind, due to it's massive cataracts, and for some reason always looked wet. 

Did I mention that there was a deep pit in the back yard...?

This setting for Stephen King's newest novel was where I spent my downtime: close to the set, in a town 60km outside of Vancouver and a 15 minute drive away from people who knew how to engage with one another. I had no car, and it took about 2 hours to bus into the city. I started to go insane, especially on my days off. The older man was always working on something late into the night, other than cleaning his house or getting rid of the copious amount of junk. He consistently found something to complain about, whether it was the 8 vehicles sitting in his driveway that no longer worked...

Or the perpetually drenched dog's endless whining. Basically, it was awful and I regret not moving out sooner, it was nothing short of an irritating and disgusting experience. It wasn't until last week that I realized how much this space was affecting my psyche. It was deeply effecting my work and diet, or lack thereof, while making me dread coming "home" after shooting.

With any job, one needs a place of refuge, where one can unwind, relax and prepare for the next day. Living here, in this pre-Hoarder candidate's home, I was walking on egg shells, literally and figuratively, while trying not to use the toilet paper excessively for fear of dirty looks and unnecessary aggression over needing to wipe my butt. Needless to say, I finally moved out. I'm now staying with a lovely family who is clean, wholesome, normal and made me steak on my first night with them; substantially better, and much healthier for my mind. 

As Darren Hardy says, "Garbage in, garbage out." 

I'm learning to take responsibility for my needs: what I need in order for me to do the best job I can. To bring the best version of myself to set. To fuel my body the way it deserves. This experience has taught me to put my well being first, an obvious one, but in the process of me not wanting to cause preemptive waves I sacrificed my health. Something that should never be on the sacrificial slab. 

W.