Flotsam and Jetsam

Retro Friday: family collage

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Fri, 25 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

That would be, from left to right:

1. my dad
2. me
3. my husband
4. my sister and I
5. my mum

How do you get your man to do more work around the house?

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Wed, 23 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Introduce a new TOOL. Exhibit A: The power washer.

This is a job we've been procrastinating for years. He spent hours with this noisy contraption last weekend, and the patio is now a completely different colour.

Flotsam likes it too.

Oops. This one's a bit x-rated. Sorry about that.

Let's try and take a nice pic of the flowers instead.

Hmm. That flower isn't quite in focus.

Now the flower is in focus, but cat bum is in the shot. It's kind of hard to avoid feline posteriors around here.

I can follow them around the garden for ages, wishing them to sit still. Then, when I finally get their eyes in focus, they usually do this:

From one kind of power washing to another ...

the greenest month of the year

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Tue, 22 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

There's a reason why Victoria looks its best in May. It's drizzly and wet at the precise time that everything's a-blooming. Here are a few scenes from around the garden lately.

tools of the trade | KJ McLean: writer, tutor, teacher, and then some!

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Mon, 21 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Today's guest post is by KJ (Karen) McLean, a creative whiz from Saint John, New Brunswick.

Karen and I struck up a blog pal-ship years ago when she emailed me regarding my blog post rant about dental hygienists. She was considering attending dental hygienist school at the time, and my post helped steer her in the right direction. After all, what she really wants to be is an astronaut!

She's been going through a career shift the past few years (haven't we all??), but keeps coming back to the need to be creative, so I thought it would be interesting to have her provide a window into her world here.

Enjoy!

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A little more than a year ago, I decided it was time to have my mid-life crisis. I was only turning forty-one, but I’ve always been a bit of an over-achiever, so better to get it over with.

I was working as an overnight caregiver to a ninety-year-old sweetheart named Pat, who would often tell me some of the dreams she’d never realized because she had married and had a family. “I love my children,” she often said, “but I would have loved to have done other things too.”

After one of these conversations, I found myself thinking. “You know, if I could find a furnished office, with Internet, bathroom access, and in the uptown area for x-dollars a month, I’d do it. I’d take the leap.”

The idea of taking a leap wasn’t new. After all, I’d been writing a blog called My Created Life (with the tagline “Using what I have within to become who I want to be”) for more than three years. But somehow I never seemed to take that leap. This time I felt different. “Okay,” I said to the Universe. I’m ready whenever you are.”

When I got home after my shift, before going to bed, I did my usual checking of the news feed on Facebook, and like a neon sign in bold letters, there it was, a status update from an acquaintance. “OFFICE SPACE FOR RENT IN OUR NEW LOCATION.” And the price was exactly the amount I had said I needed.

I’m still here, in my little office on Union Street. Between writing, tutoring high school students, and teaching creative writing courses, loving the life I am meant to live! And these are the tools of my trade.

The Office: This is the place where my dreams are made and fulfilled. My office has evolved over the past year, into a home away from home for me, and although I have to be careful to keep the balance between comforting and cluttered, it truly is my happy place.

One thing that visitors to my office often miss is my “space wall.” I’m a dedicated human spaceflight enthusiast, and a Masters of Science in Space Studies is on my bucket list. It may be destiny – my mother found out she was expecting me the same day Armstrong and Aldrin walked on the moon. I watched the first space shuttle flight in 1981 with a mix of fascination and determination.

Although I have (almost) made peace with the fact that I may never cross the Karman Line, this wall – featuring all five space shuttles, first Teacher in Space Christa McAuliffe, and Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield – is a source of inspiration and a daily reminder of what can be achieved if only we dream and try hard enough. I am determined to pass that inspiration on to young people. I guess that makes me a space evangelist. (The tin foil ball skewered with a toothpick is Earth rotating on its axis, in case you’re wondering. All of those episodes of “MacGyver” in the 80s have left their mark.)

Tutoring is what mainly pays my bills, and it’s something that gives me a great deal of joy. I spent ten years working as a substitute teacher in my former high school and loved almost every minute of it. I‘d always said I would do it until it wasn’t fun anymore, because if I weren’t enjoying myself, it wouldn’t be fair to the kids. Now I tutor high school students in math, English, science, and sneak in the occasional bit of space studies when I can.

I also teach creative writing courses, in writing short fiction and novels, and I get a great deal of enjoyment from that as well. If the reward of tutoring is seeing that magic moment when the student “gets it,” then the joy in the creative writing classes is watching new writers discover their voices. That makes me smile from the inside-out.

Writing Essentials: According to my mother, I’ve been telling stories since before I had actually mastered speech. The first story I remember writing was when I was in grade three – an adventure starring a St. Bernard named Tippy – and I’ve been writing ever since. Although I have the usual writerly needs of computer, paper, and writing instruments, there are other less-obvious essentials. Over the years, I have fine-tuned the magic formula for my writing success.

Diet Pepsi. I cannot write without Diet Pepsi. It’s that simple. It lubricates the creative part of my brain. (And yes, I drink it straight from the two-litre bottle. Don’t tell anybody. Especially my mother.)
Peanut M&Ms. Except for the red ones. I don’t like the red ones.
Moleskine journals. I tend to buy a new one for each writing project, as well as having at least three kicking around inside my purse, just in case. You never know when you might have a stationery emergency.
Pilot Frixion erasable pens! I have just discovered these in the last three months and I don’t know how on Earth I got along without them. I hate the feel of writing with pencil, and my outlining was always utter chaos by the time I got names changed, scene sequence rearranged, and (occasionally) turned dogs into cats. These pens have literally changed my life!
Reading material. Although you might not be able to tell, that large green “book” is actually my Kobo Vox ereader, and it goes everywhere with me. Whenever a student tells me she has writer’s block, I tell her to read something. I have a theory that a writer needs to have words in her head in order for those words to spill out as a new story. Since those words get in the brain through reading, I try to always have a book on the go.

The camera: I always have a camera with me. It’s how I take notes, document the world around me, and try to see that world in a unique way. When I’m buying a new camera, there are three critical criteria:

it must be all one piece, as I don’t like to fiddle with swapping lenses, but have the ability to switch from manual to idiot mode, in case I’m out of Diet Pepsi
it must be “purseable,” because if it doesn’t fit in my purse, I won’t keep it with me, and
it has to take good pictures.

The Panasonic Lumix on the left was my loyal companion from Fall 2006 to Spring 2009, when I purchased the Panasonic Lumix in the middle. It has just recently been replaced (after a feline-induced nosedive off my bedside table) by the Nikon P510 on the right. I am completely smitten with the Nikon, and may have to add a new criterion: my camera must also be red! (PS – This picture was taken with my cell phone, hence the lesser quality.)

Finally, I present my cure for writer’s block if reading doesn’t do the trick. I hook rugs. This is my grandmother’s hook, which I discovered among her needlepoint supplies about a year after I learned the art of traditional rug hooking. When the story just won’t come, there is something about the rhythm of the strips of wool gliding through my hands that loosens the gears in my head. Like a child that has to be ignored in order to learn to behave, the literary part of my brain has to be shuffled offstage once in a while in order for it to shine when the curtain rises.

Speaking of my brain: You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. One February 22, 2012, I was crossing at a crosswalk when a car reversed out of the intersection where he was trying to turn. He hit me, and I hit the truck behind the crosswalk. It has been a very challenging three months, dealing with a concussion. The good doc says I’ll recover, and I believe him, but it’s taking a very l-o-n-g time. My language skills took the hardest hit, with the wrong words popping out of my mouth (like saying “commuter” instead of “kilometer”), and I’ve had to learn to recognize the signs when my brain is tired. I’ve had to learn to slow down. I’ve had to learn not only to not bite off more than I can chew, but that my mouth is now much smaller. It’s been frustrating, but a learning experience all the same.

One of the things I’ve learned is that the writing and teaching are what I really want to be doing with my life, and that other things, like a part time job and volunteer work were distracting me from that. (I don’t think it was any accident that the Universe smacked me with a FOCUS, let’s put it that way.) And over the past few weeks, a seed has begun to sprout in the back of my lead. I want to create a literary community centre here in the uptown, where writers can come and share and learn from each other. I have shared this idea with some of my creative writing students, and together we will build it. Word Collective (www.wordcollective.ca) will be the culmination of my dreams. I just had to be made to sit still for a few months to realize it.

I write. I teach. I teach writing. I am happy with my created life.

Retro Friday: postcards from pre-9/11

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Fri, 18 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Remember the good ol' days, when you could do stuff like kayak right up to an aircraft carrier?

Chris and I paddled up to the John C. Stennis when it was anchored off Victoria in around 1998. I have a feeling there'd be little tolerance for this kind of fun these days.

Or how about visiting the cockpit of a 747? Here's a little raw video from a cockpit visit I made in 1999, when I was on my way across the Pacific Ocean to run in the Honolulu Marathon. I particularly like the way the Captain jokes around, saying "Ladies and Gentleman, I have no idea where we are. But there's no one else around, so we're perfectly safe."

the importance of content curation: quality over quanity

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Wed, 16 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Lately I've had a gnawing feeling ... and it has to do with the internet.

In a nutshell, I'm coming to believe that humans are reaching a saturation point with the amount of media in our world. I'm referring here to all kinds of "media": social media, traditional media, websites, apps, video, audio, photography, messages, email, and so on. Don't you find it all a bit much? Aren't you a little bit dismayed to learn that there is yet another cool tool on the web that you need to use in order to keep up with what's hip? Isn't it overwhelming to learn how many millions of new YouTube videos are uploaded every few minutes? And that most of them are crap?

I suspect that a backlash is inevitable, and that in ten years we will be using far fewer forms of media in order to learn about our world and connect with it. Many people will choose to go to an extreme: it will become hip to live "offline." Old-school, low-tech and retro will be the new black.

Already, social media watchers are discussing what's going to be the next big thing. Flickr, once the "best online photo management and sharing application in the world," is on the decline; this article explains why, suggesting that Flickr didn't capitalize on its social networking capabilities. What, then, took over? Facebook. But even as Facebook becomes a public company this week, some people are already questioning whether the popular social networking site is just a passing fad.

For me, an eye-opening moment happened a few months ago when I learned that my 14 year-old niece doesn't even use email; she prefers texting. Wow, I thought, if even email is going the way of the Dodo, is any of this internet stuff sacred?

Another clue was the set design at Collaborations for Cause, a content marketing and transmedia workshop I attended recently. Take a look:

On the little table is a black, rotary-dial telephone. It's a prop, no doubt representing communication.

I see it as a symbol of simplicity -- that we need to use our digital-savvy skills to remain true to whatever messages we are hoping to communicate. Keep it simple. Keep it real. Quality over quantity.

As a creator of online content, I have many years' experience making videos, blog posts, photos, and written material. The prevailing wisdom nowadays is that since people are saturated with content, most of it of questionable quality, the demand for quality content has never been greater. Therefore, those of us who are experienced creators should find our work increasingly valued.

Moreover, content curation -- the selection, maintenance and archiving of material -- is an important skill, one I've developed curating several blogs over the years. People will increasingly turn to content curators to find good material rather than wasting time wading through the sea of not-so-great information out there.

What do you think? If quality trumps quantity, what digital tools / websites / apps do you think will still be around, and relevant, in ten years? Who are the content curators you trust?

geezer teaser number three

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Tue, 15 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

My thirty-year high school reunion is only a few weeks away, and I've been quite busy on the organizing committee. I created a website, a Facebook group, and a few teaser videos that I'm affectionately calling "geezer teasers." Here is the latest installment:

The first video, promoting the whole reunion, is here.

The second video, promoting the dinner/dance, is here.

All videos were edited using footage I shot at the 20-year reunion in 2002.

tools of the trade | Tom Trimbath, Consultant, Speaker, Writer, Photographer, Engineer, Entrepeneur

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Mon, 14 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Welcome to a weekly series called "Tools of the Trade," in which I invite creative professionals all over the world to share a little bit about what they do and where they do it. I encourage them to define "Tools of the Trade" however they like.

Today's guest post is by Tom Trimbath. I met Tom at a workshop on Whidbey Island, and a quick perusal of his website made me realize he might have some interesting thoughts to share here.

As you can tell from his "job description" above, he's been around the block.

Among other things, Tom is a nature photographer, a writer, and a consultant. He has written and self-published six books and four photo books. He cycled across the USA and wrote a book about it. He worked as an aerospace engineer at Boeing and then retired at 38 to teach karate.

How does someone with such a varied background define "tools of the trade"?

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I am a minimalist, not through some grand plan, but probably because I was brought up in a family that had to be careful with money. That carefulness was handy during my aerospace career. If something is going to fly, every ounce counts and if something isn't necessary it is left behind. Self-propelled tours of bits of the planet by hiking, skiing, and bicycling reinforced the notion. I've learned to live for days or weeks on what can fit into a backpack or panniers. Gear has to be simple, compact, rugged, and easily replaceable.

The title of writer happened by chance. I bicycled from one corner of the US to another as a way to lose weight. It didn't work. But along the way I sent out updates via email so my wife (now ex-) wouldn't be inundated with requests for progress reports. After I got back some writer friends pointed out that my emails, notes, and photos - and of course the stories - were more than enough for a book. So I wrote Just Keep Pedaling.

After I'd convinced myself that I could write better I decided to write nature essays about Washington's Cascades. The Twelve Month series was born.

My writing improved and I added photos as chapter headings. The photos were received so well that people wanted me to sell them too, but they were from a point-and-shoot camera.

Okay, I'll apply the label of photographer too. That convinced me to step it up a notch and return to the land of SLRs, but this time digitally. (My favorite Nikkormat died while bouncing down an alpine boulder field. Sigh.) The five year series of Twelve Month photo essays on Whidbey island resulted, or will when I finish it in August 2012.

Writers and photographers are sometimes dismayed to see my low end tech tools. I prefer to write in TextEdit or Notepad. Word tries to outsmart me. Its reformatting is frustrating; but what really steers me clear is auto-corrections. Trial instead of trail, or sue instead of use make dramatic changes that some readers try to absorb as serious commentary. Using a trail becomes suing in a trial. I don't mind commenting on land-use but I'd rather talk about nature than litigation. My photographer friends have more mega-pixels in their phones than I do in my Nikon D40. Considering where I go, I'd rather have light and cheap. More mega-pixels are good. Exquisite lenses are impressive. A sturdy tripod would certainly take the shake out of some of my shots. But when I am sitting in a kayak with the camera in the vicinity of waves and salt water, well, I'd be less comfortable if I was worrying about thousands of dollars of equipment. I definitely miss shots. I've missed commissions because my images were too small, but the majority of shots and the majority of sales come from more moderate situations.

My low tech approach works for me because writer or photographer are labels I wear, but they don't describe my passions. My passions are people and ideas. I enjoy writing and photography, and I am absolutely thrilled when I connect people to each other, to nature, to new ideas and perspectives. After one of my slideshows one member of the audience sat there after everyone had left. She turned to me and said, "I'd forgotten that I can look at nature that way. Thank you." Evidently simple words and simple images are more than sufficient. My love for people and ideas is why I enjoy teaching classes and public speaking. I try to listen to the audience, tune in on what they want to learn or share, and build from there. I even do that one-on-one as a consultant. Whether I am teaching or speaking or consulting I rarely use Powerpoint or anything requiring a plug. My slideshows require a projector and a laptop, but are operated out of the free Preview software available on most hosts' machines. I carry the jpegs on a USB stick and can conduct a show on a moment's notice without having to lug around projectors or laptops.

I am lucky in that I found that my true passions are the intangible, or at least things that don't come with price tags. That realization makes it easier to focus on the message instead of the technique.

Of course, a faster lens would be nice for the closeups. The high tech tools have their place, but I'll rent rather than buy, and be glad for the freedom to concentrate on my passion. Hello people. Got any ideas?

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Thanks very much for participating, Tom! Can't wait to see what new careers you add to your roster this time next year.

Retro Friday: a tall ship tale

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Fri, 11 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

I've always had a thing for tall ships, old maps, and tales of exploration. There are a few tall ships plying the waters around here, mostly as training vessels, and sometimes a whole lot more of them show up for a tall ship festival.

Fifteen years ago, I decided it was time to learn more about them. I traveled to Bainbridge Island in Washington state to spend a day aboard the Schooner Aventuress.

My plan was to become a regular volunteer on the ship, so I could sail around the San Juan Islands during its scheduled week-long retreats. I thought it would be a great way to meet new people and see more of this area, so I signed up for one of the compulsory days of volunteer training in the month of March.

As it's impossible to get to Bainbridge and back again in one day from Victoria, I made a weekend of it. Not knowing Bainbridge Island at all, but having heard a lot of good things about Port Townsend, I made PT my base. After all, Port Townsend is ALL about boats.

It snowed on my drive down to Bainbridge Island. This was not a good sign, for I am a fair weather sailor. However, I was already in another country so there was no turning back. I was committed.

It's pretty easy to spot Adventuress from afar; her tall masts are a dead giveaway. Upon reaching the ship, I checked in with the other volunteers and our day began. We were shown around the ship and taken on a cruise, during which we handled the sails and basically did what anyone told us to do.

The weather was bloody awful. This training trip was done in March -- a chilly, drizzly, cold day at sea. After grabbing ropes and pulling and hauling sails, I couldn't feel my fingers. I spent a long hour in the clawfoot bathtub at my hotel in Port Townsend that night!

Unfortunately I never got a chance to volunteer on Adventuress because my work schedule didn't allow taking time off during her San Juan trips. Over the years I've seen her a few times from afar. When I lived on Dallas Road with a view of Juan de Fuca strait, I could see Adventuress with her signature white hull sailing into Victoria; that was usually my clue that the annual classic boat show was about the begin.

Last week I was having lunch at a conference on Whidbey Island, and happened to be sitting next to someone who works at Sound Experience, the organization that operates Adventuress! I hadn't thought of the ship for a long time.

It's great to see that this organization is still thriving and that there are dedicated, talented people looking for creative new ways to engage the public in this non-profit, focused on environmental and youth leadership.

Have you ever sailed on Adventuress? Did you know that she's having her 100th birthday next year? I'm looking forward to seeing what special adventures Sound Experience cooks up to celebrate! Apparently the first big job is to give the ol' girl a make-over, and the crew is blogging about the whole process.

Click here to check out the ship's blog.

Meanwhile, I'm staying warm and dry, waiting for the kind of weather that would get me out on the water again.

good grit

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Thu, 10 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

"Disappointments only arrive when we have a preconceived idea of how our lives should unfold. Often the thing we thought to be a devastating blow turns out to be a great gift. Our disappointments hollow us out. They test, humble, educate and move us. Ease and pleasure do not prod us on to evolve. It is our frustrations and sorrows that, like the grit in the oyster, fashion the pearl of our becoming."

Ann Mortifee, In Love With the Mystery

Image: a handrail at the Anacortes Ferry waiting area, Fidalgo Island.

a three-hour cruise on the S.S. Rustbucket

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Wed, 09 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Last weekend I traveled to Whidbey Island in the US for a conference. From where I live on Vancouver Island, there are several ways of getting to Whidbey, all involving at least one ferry and a long drive. My travel companions and I chose the most direct route: the ferry from Sidney BC to Anacortes, Washington.

I hadn't taken a Washington State ferry for around 20 years, and it looks like nothing's changed. If you are a British Columbian who has grown up complaining about BC Ferries (quite the pastime around these parts) it is a bit of a shock to board the rustbucket that travels daily through the San Juan Islands. You can kiss cleanliness, culinary selection, shops, and a feeling of being in a developed country goodbye.

Because when I use the word "rust," folks, I ain't joking:

It always amuses me to visit the other side of the pond, where references to Canada are few and far between. For example, as you drive through Anacortes, road signs point to the "San Juan Ferry." San Juan Island isn't the final destination, though. Sidney is. Back in Sidney, our road signs point to the "Anacortes Ferry." Naturally.

Taking the ferry on the return trip, the rustbucket calls at Friday Harbor on San Juan Island and disgorges some of its passengers. After about 20 minutes there, an announcement is made: "Please disembark if your destination is Friday Harbor. Otherwise you're GOIN' TO CANADA." Horrors. Not that!

At least we don't need sniffer dogs at our ferry terminals. I mean, really? Is there a concern that someone's going to bomb the S.S. Rustbucket? Just keep on neglecting it. It'll fall apart sooner or later.

a funky flower box idea

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Tue, 08 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

I spotted this adorable flower box recently while taking a stroll in Langley, a small town on Whidbey Island, Washington. It sort of sums up the feeling of the place: quirky, pretty, hippy-dippie, educated, and cool.

If our flower boxes say something about our character, I wonder what mine say about me?

tools of the trade | what it's like to live the dream

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Mon, 07 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Today's guest post is by Mike Petersen, actor and puppeteer living in Toronto.

He has posted a couple of times in this series, here and here, always with a slightly different take on how he defines "tools of the trade."

Recently I asked him to delve into greater detail on his work as a puppeteer. It isn't a career choice many young people are even aware of. Who woulda thunk you could make a living at this (if you weren't a Jim Hensen, for example)?

Mike did. AND he worked with Jim Hensen. Check it out:

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Who knows why or how dreams form? Some people achieve theirs. They become the firemen or movie stars or fashion pioneers they always wanted to be.

My dream came true too. I wanted to be a puppeteer. Even as a child I knew that hiding in a cardboard tree as the next Casey and Finnegan would be the thing that made me happy.

The dream evolved over the years, morphing to suit whatever I was absorbing at the time. Maybe I’d be the next Kermit. Maybe I’d go to India and join the shadow troupes. Maybe I’d live in a hut in Japan and devote decades to perfecting someone’s left foot, like the Bunraku Players.

Maybe I’d be the next Yoda.

When reality finally caught up with me, I was doing colorful puppet shows in school gymnasiums, making a sea of cross-legged kindergartners laugh their little heads off. It was very rewarding work, and thanks to my association with many people and several companies, I’ve seen almost all corners of this planet at least a couple of times, performing everything from shadows to masks to vacuum cleaners to stuffed animal Shakespearean bunny rabbits.

In the world of television puppetry I’ve had two magnificent flashes in the pan. The first was as a background puppeteer on Jim Henson’s Fraggle Rock, where, as an on-staff apprentice, I received the most valuable hands-on training any kid could ask for.

The second was in Halifax 20 years later, on what I think is my favorite show, my favorite job, my favorite character and my best time ever. That show was The Mighty Jungle.

In this style of TV puppetry we don’t hide behind a curtain or a wall. There’s no need. We’re framed out of the picture by staying outside the edges of the camera’s view. We hold our puppets over our heads and are able to move throughout our set quite freely.

Our jungle was an arrangement of styrofoam “islands” that could be turned and combined to create different locations. We used Wal-Mart carpets for grass, Dollarama décor for the exotic foliage, and our drooping coconut trees were made of plywood, spray-foam, and plastic. There was never any ground or forest floor. Anything below the puppets’ waist is left to the viewer’s imagination, usually. If the characters appear to be walking up and down hills or stepping over rocks and branches, that’s just an illusion created by the puppets’ movements.

We’re looking downward as we perform because there, at our feet, are television monitors that show us exactly what the camera is recording. This way we can work in direct collaboration with the cameraman, navigating the space, keeping out of each other’s way, and making sure the viewers at home will get the best look at our puppets’ fuzzy faces.

Head writer Kate Barris was determined to make The Mighty Jungle kid-friendly but sophisticated enough that adults wouldn’t cringe. “There will be plenty of crumbs for the mums,” said Kate. Her scripts were funny. The situations were simple, but the dialogue was snappy and she structured her stories like classic comedy. Kate cited The Dick Van Dyke Show as her main inspiration, while I was reminded of prime moments from Gilligan's Island. We all grew up watching television, and now we were making television, so we had a responsibility to take our comedy seriously.

Wendy Welch played Rhonda the Rhino, a prissy and bossy sort of girl who’s also dainty and delicate.

Frank played the meerkat, Babu, a wiry smart-aleck who bounces and springs and never stops moving.

And then there was Bruce, the big dumb gorilla. That was me. Bruce is the best friend, the pal who lumbers along and takes three seconds longer than everybody else to understand what’s going on.

Jamie Bradley played many characters. I think of him as the ‘Mel Blanc’ of the show, an expert at squeezing or stretching his voice to become a gap-toothed crocodile, a whimpering baby lion, a daft forgetful wizard, or a funky big-nosed monkey as conjured by Kate’s scripts.

And if Jamie was Mel Blanc, then Alexis Milligan was June Foray, diving into her many characters and giving them all a unique charm, from a bratty monster to a singing dolphin to Elly the girly elephant.

The three main characters were broadly conceived, so they lent themselves perfectly to whatever stereotype we wanted to pluck from our collective nostalgia. I loved to imagine Bruce the Gorilla, Babu the Meerkat and Rhonda the Rhino one day joining the ranks of other famous adventure trios like Tom, Huck and Becky, or Ron, Harry and Hermione.

Bruce and Babu could be any vintage comic duo: Fatty and Skinny, Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, and yes, my favourites, the Skipper and Gilligan.

We were all encouraged by director Chuck Rubin to recall our most basic comedic inclinations. That’s why the show was so much fun to work on.

My favourite moments were those precious few seconds before the cameras rolled, when Frank, Wendy and I, while resting our arms and preparing for another take, would huddle together and cook up something to surprise our director. We never strayed from Kate’s scripts, and we never betrayed the truth of our characters, but if a line could be adjusted or a scene could be tweaked, we’d try to think fast and figure it out. Luckily our voices were recorded live (there were microphones in our headbands) so our instincts for timing and nuance were being captured vocally as well as physically, which is so vitally important to the illusion of life. That, and our comedy habits could be indulged.

Frank was always inventing shtick. For example, there we were one fine day, Bruce and Babu walking along, talking about whatever the script had us talking about, when quite incidentally Babu stopped, looked down, jumped over something, and then kept going, continuing with his scripted dialogue. Bruce was loping along behind him, but instead of stopping and looking and jumping, he was oblivious, and he fell waist-deep into a mud puddle. Shplork! He struggled out of the mud, caught up with Babu, and their scene continued. That kind of detail isn’t always specified in a script, but it’s exactly the sort of business that Frank loved to perfect. “Cut!” said Chuck, and then he laughed and laughed, while Frank and I dropped our arms to let the blood back in before hoisting our puppets again and getting ready for another go.

The Mighty Jungle had its debut on CBC in the fall of 2008, one year after principle photography. I got up every weekday morning to watch it and never felt prouder of anything in my life.

We’re still playing on Saturday mornings on CBC. We’re also on PBS Sprout in the U.S., the Disney Channel in Latin America, and we recently became available on Netflix. More photos, news, and trivia can be found at The Unofficial Mighty Jungle Fan Club on Facebook.

We love this show. We enjoyed it. We laughed each and every day. Jobs like that are rare. For 46 glorious episodes of a harmless pre-school puppet series, I was truly living the dream.

Retro Friday: passport collection

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Fri, 04 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

I wish I could say that my passport collection makes me an International Woman of Mystery, but unfortunately all it means is that I'm a geezer.

Here are some of my favourite stamps and stickers:

it's good news / bad news time

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Thu, 03 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

The bad news: hunting season has begun. I found this unfortunate victim out on the patio today. Current carcass count: 34 rats, 2 mice, 17 birds, one dragonfly

The good news: this unfortunate victim was disposed of outside the house, pretty much intact. No volleyball in the dining room means no feathers or body parts to clean up.

we have a winnah!

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Wed, 02 May 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Remember that video contest about women and politics? I worked with Dancing with the Octopus on the campaign, shooting and editing the contest announcement video and helping out with strategy, social media and project management.

Well. After receiving submissions from all over the world, we have a winner! 13 year-old Rebecca Hansen heard about the contest on the radio, and submitted the following video to win the $500 prize:

Go to dancingwiththeoctopus.com for links to the other four finalist videos, which are equally thought-provoking and creative.

network confidential

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Tue, 01 May 2012 18:12:00 +0000

As a video editor, my work has kept me quite isolated over the years. Editors tend to work in dark, sound-proof rooms, sometimes with a director or a bunch of clients, but mostly alone. While the isolation allows us to focus on our projects, too much of it isn't a good thing. Now and then we need to emerge from the cave, bleary-eyed, in search of human contact. And if that contact is with other editors or people in the biz who speak our lingo, so much the better.

Networking also helps us move from one job to another, as the employment landscape in a small city is all about who you know.

Here in Victoria, there are a few organizations/societies for film-makers to network, share resources and experiences, and learn. I've been a member of all of them, at some point, over the past 13 years.

What's happening now, though, is a tectonic shift not unlike the end of the Cold War: the old sources of funding for documentaries and tv shows, namely broadcasters and the government, have dried up. Film producers are scrambling to figure out how to make a living at something they love in a completely New World Order. They have to put on entrepreneur's hats, learn how to 'monetize' their work, redefine what "film" is, enter Transmedia partnerships and get really creative about where the money's going to come from.

For traditional "film producers," this new atmosphere is an upheaval the likes of which they have never seen; and in Victoria, some of our producers have been in business since the 1970s.

On the fringe of this group are those of us involved in corporate video production -- a valid, creative, filmic way to make a living -- and we're watching the current debate with interest and a little head-shaking.

You see, for me, there's nothing fundamentally new in the landscape -- it's just getting WAY more interesting. I've always worked 9 to 5 (not the typical 10-12 hour work days on a film set), billed by the hour (rather than the lump sums that producers earn, regardless of how many hours they work), and my funding comes from my clients.

Oh, it's increasingly difficult to find work, but that's because there is more competition out there due to lower technology prices and the proliferation of film schools pumping out graduates who will work for free/cheap. But it's not a paradigm shift of the sort that the doc/tv show producers are experiencing.

One local organization (who shall remain nameless) reminds me of NATO: an group formed during a specific time for a specific purpose. Its members are trying to reformulate the mandate of the society to remain relevant in this new environment. When new people attend their first meeting, inevitably they ask "What do you DO, as a group?" Until the society figures out its new purpose, that question is very difficult to answer. I can't tell you how grateful I am that these new people are asking the tough questions, though, because it is high time for a change.

Just as local filmmakers are in the process of figuring out how to support each other and navigate a new landscape, my own job description is morphing into something new. It makes for very awkward small-talk moments when you don't have a quick answer to the "what do you do?" question, but it's also exciting to be in uncharted waters, knowing that something unforeseen and challenging is right around the corner.

And one thing is certain: the need for networking has never been greater. I am attending as many meetings, workshops, retreats, presentations and pitch sessions as I can to plug myself into a new gene pool of possibilities.

I hope the local film producers' society continues to be a focal point for networking and learning, and that it embraces this exciting time of opportunity. As someone who isn't attached to the way things were, I am hoping it will change its name, morph into more of a "creative collective" than a "society," and be more welcoming to newcomers and all types of "media" than it has in the past.

Meanwhile, I'm heading over to Whidbey Island this week for a New Media retreat called Collaborations for Cause, and I'm very much looking forward to expanding my network internationally. Nothing shakes off the cobwebs like a road trip!

tools of the trade | Arnold Lim, photographer/photojournalist and videographer

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Today's guest post is by Arnold Lim, a photographer/photojournalist and videographer in Victoria BC.

I met Arnold at a workshop called Making Films, Making a Living about a month ago.

When I put out the call for guest bloggers, Arnold graciously found time in his busy schedule to participate.

I am always curious about what tools a photographer deems essential for his/her creative work, and Arnold's thoughtful guest post does not disappoint.

Here is his contribution to our discussion about tools of the trade:

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Almost every photographer I know is a gear head.

As a group we are collectively enamored with the tools of the trade and I am no different. I love cameras, lenses and lights, as well as the accompanying nerd-speak. F-stops, ISO’s and lighting ratios keep me going for hours whether anyone is listening or not. (My wife is definitely in the “not” category.) However, the more experienced I get and the better I know my gear - the less important it seems.

As cheesy as it sounds, over time I realized the most important piece of equipment I owned was not the camera, or the lenses or light modifiers, but the six inches behind the camera. Not only that, the best part of photography wasn’t even always the end result, but the people I met, the lessons I learned - and the journey along the way.

One such lesson, perhaps one of the most valuable tools today, took place in Las Vegas where I was photographing the Ultimate Fighting Championship at the Mandalay Bay hotel and casino.

In preparation for his bout, one of the main-event UFC fighters reflected on a grueling training camp where he did what many fighters now do: enlist the help of the best fighters he could gather as sparring and training partners.

By design, his camp included the best boxing, wrestling, jiu jitsu, strength and conditioning, nutrition and kickboxing practitioners he could find– all there to share knowledge with each other, sometimes with their fists and feet, leading up to his big fight.

Everyone he brought in was a standout fighter, some in the same division as he was, even some he fought in the past and others he may one day battle down the road. The possibility existed that someone from this training camp could use the knowledge gained of his skills to help one of his opponents in a future bout. Yet he opened the door, and let them in. Everyone’s egos stayed outside the gym doors.

Day in day out he stepped into the cage against the specialists knowing the challenges in store, he boxed with the boxer, and went toe-to-toe with the jiu jitsu specialist at his own game. He put himself in a position he would likely lose the battle so he could improve enough to eventually win the war. For eight weeks this is how he lived.

From the outside looking in, a sport sometimes referred to as a blood bath or human cockfighting may seem an unlikely place for sharing. It may instead appear to be a place where testosterone reigns supreme, egos spike out of control, and pomposity drips from fighters like saliva from a rabid dog. Having watched from the inside, that is obviously not the norm, not from what I have seen anyway.

In fact it was the opposite, the fighter put himself in the most self-deprecating position in order to maximize his growth and become the best he could be. It worked, he went on to win the fight and become a champion may times over.

“Iron sharpens Iron,” he told me afterwards as one key to his success. Those three words changed the way I thought about myself, my business and my photography even though he was talking about fighting. I learned the importance of humility and sharing that day from a man I did not expect to learn that from. They are two tools of the trade that have proven integral to my growth as a photographer. No f-stops, lights or lenses required.

One of the strange ironies is many of the best photography lessons I have learned over my career, aren’t even from photographers - or even specifically about photography.

There is always much to learn if we keep our ears to the ground, even from cage fighters.

Arnold Lim is a freelance photographer/photojournalist and videographer living, breathing and sharing in Victoria, BC. He can be reached at alim@arnoldlimphotography.com

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Thanks so much for participating, Arnold!

Retro Friday: dead man's corner

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

In the corner of our living room is a place I call "dead man's corner." It contains the following:

A green lamp recently freecycled off the street (hence the wrinkly shade)
A photo of me and Rajeev, on our wedding day, with my grandfather
A photo of my mum and Bob, on their wedding day
The orchid that only blooms every 2.5 years

The "dead men" in question are my grandfather and Bob. It wasn't meant to be a shrine; it's just where the photos ended up.

no money leads to no money

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

I was chatting with a colleague last night, comparing notes about our lives as creative freelancers, when she happened to mention her current dilemma: "I keep being asked to work for free, and it's pissing me off."

Wow. That pretty much sums up my situation, too. Over the past year, I've had several interesting projects come my way, but many of them weren't traveling with a budget. Oh, they all had promises of "more work down the road" or "a great networking opportunity that will lead to more work down the road," but there was no actual cash accompanying the offer.

There's the rub, because in my experience, "no money" does not lead to "more money down the road." It leads to "no money."

Case in point: recently I was asked to create a video. When I asked what sort of budget was involved, as you do, I was told "Oh. Right. There's no actual money for this, but it is indirectly promoting X charity. Seeing as you did a video in the past for X charity, I assumed you would do this for free, too."

Woa. Stop the presses. Do you see how one assumption of "no money" can lead to the next?

Two things were wrong with that client's assumption:

1. That I created a video for X charity for free (the project was actually a paying gig) and

2. even if I had done something for free/cheap for one client in the past, it doesn't mean I would do so for a different client on a new project in the future. Mortgages don't get paid that way. Groceries don't get purchased. My cats would starve and all hell would break loose in my world.

Comparing notes with other freelancers in creative professions, it seems I'm not alone. Requests to "just bring your camera along" happen all the time to videographers and photographers. "Could you just proofread this? It'll take you only a couple of minutes" to writers and editors. "Please change this on my blog/website; you know how to do all that stuff" to bloggers and IT consultants.

The assumption seems to be that, in the creative realm, we will gladly give our time and resources for free, because it's "easy" for us. Never mind the fact that we've taken decades to learn our craft and nurture our talents in order to make it look "easy."

I would never ask a mechanic, a dentist, a massage therapist, or any kind of business owner to do something for free. Why is it that creative professions are perceived to be flexible, price-wise?

As for charity work, I have made exceptions in the past and volunteered my time and talents to causes that are important to me. But even so, I need to draw a line somewhere otherwise all the work I'd be doing would be for non-profits and fund-raising committees (who perpetually lack funds to pay me).

Early in one's career, volunteering is a great way to gain experience and make professional connections. When I was starting out in video production, I did lots of volunteering in order to build a portfolio. But that was 12 years ago. I have a body of work behind me now, and I don't need any more "portfolio-building" opportunities.

So if you need some work done and you like the cut of my jib, I'll gladly meet with you and take the time to create a unique cost estimate for your project.

That much, at least, is complimentary.

calling all budding bloggers

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Have you been enjoying my weekly feature, Tools of the Trade? I'm looking for more guest bloggers to share a window on their working world with my readers.

Interested?

Check out the whole series here, and if you'd like to contribute, send me an email: angela (at) ahemproductions (dot) com. As you can see, people define "tools of the trade" differently and that's half the fun.

It's great creative cross-pollination and darn fine promotion for your online coordinates; my site sees a definite spike in traffic each Monday, and judging from readers' comments, the series is well-received.

I get a real kick out of sharing these guest posts from all over the world on my little ol' blog, and I'd love to feature your work too. Get in touch with me and let's make it happen.

survival of the darkest

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Nope, this post isn't about flowers. It's about fish.

Five years ago, our realtor gave us a unique housewarming gift: a bag of 15 goldfish to put into the pond. Within a few days, we found five floaters, dead. Not all of them handled the transition to pond water so well.

Since then, the numbers have been slowly dwindling, yet I'm always amazed that there are any surviving at all, given the number of curious cats and raccoons in the 'hood. Plus, the pond freezes a few inches thick during the coldest winter months. In spring, I peer into the murk to count how many little orange survivors have lived to see another summer.

Last year only three fish remained: one yellow, one orange, and one black. The black one was the most difficult to see, as it blended into the dark water -- perfect camouflage.

This February I noticed that all three were still there, but by March: nothing. Several large rocks that normally sit on the pond's ledge were inside the pond. It was obvious that the local raccoons had paid a visit, enjoying a swim and some appetizers at our expense.

I was kind of sad about this. Even though I never really wanted the burden of taking care of more living creatures than we've already got, while they lived in my pond I fed the fish and worried when their little community shrank. It's been kind of quiet around the pond lately, without goldfish in residence. I didn't bother buying fish food, as I normally do in spring, and I've let the green scum grow unabated instead of cleaning it.

Until yesterday.

At around 5 pm, the sun was hitting the pond water at just the right angle. I noticed a huge blob of green scum floating on the surface, and thought "OK I really should do something about that," when right next to it I saw the black goldfish swimming around! It was near the surface for only a few seconds before it ducked down under a ledge, but that was long enough.

I'm so happy it survived! No doubt its dark camouflage saved its little fishy butt. Fish food is now on my shopping list. And maybe I should get it a few companions? Must be lonely in the pond when you're the only one ...

By the way, I've shared a photo of a dark flower instead of a dark fish because -- well, it's just too darn hard to photograph a black fish in a black pond.

tools of the trade | Lori Gossett, Academic Researcher and Professor

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Today's guest post is by Lori Gossett, Academic Researcher and Professor in Communication Studies and Organizational Science at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte.

I met Lori a couple of months ago on the TCM Classic Cruise. We were part of a gang of young'uns (under 50-ish) who gravitated to each other in the Rendezvous Lounge each night to dance, drink, and chat about old movies. Lori is not only a brilliant academic, she has a killer sense of humour. I'll have to do some serious sit-ups before the next cruise (we're both going) so I don't hurt too much from laughing in her presence.

Originally from Boise, Idaho, Dr. Lori has worked at the University of Nevada at Las Vegas and at the University of Texas at Austin. She says, "I seem to be slowly moving south east....soon I will be working in Puerto Rico :)"

When I asked Lori to take part in my weekly Tools of the Trade series, here's what she had to say about her work:

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As a social scientist, I study the ways people work in organizations (how they make decisions, what rules they follow or don’t follow, etc). One of my main tools is my own body. Whenever possible I work alongside the people I study and try to understand how they perform their jobs and make sense of their organizational roles.

For example, I have recently been studying the ways that nonprofit organizations motivate and manage volunteers. As part of my research, I trained as a Red Cross volunteer and helped out with the Hurricane Ike evacuation in Texas.

Here I am at 2am, working with other “real” Red Cross volunteers, trying to schedule people to work at shelters – Good Times! At the same time that I am helping out with the evacuation proceedings, I am also taking notes on my legal pad so I can keep track of all the things I am feeling and experiencing as a volunteer (the notes are my data!).

Of course, hand writing notes in the field is sort of “old school.” It isn’t always easy (or particularly subtle) to carry around a big pad of paper. Also, it takes time to write down everything that is happening around you. SO… modern ethnographic researchers have some new nifty tools at our disposal.

The Olympus micro-recorder is my “must have” tool of choice when I’m in the field. It is small enough to carry in my pocket and the microphone is sensitive enough to pick up the quiet whispers I make when I duck into a bathroom stall or hallway to quickly record my observations in the field. It also has handy portals for larger microphone attachments (as shown here). The BEST part is that the Olympus comes with a built in flash drive that you can use to store your recordings and other data/documents – no extra cords needed!

Over the years I have pulled together a basic set of tools that I bring with me whenever I am going out to do research. My “qual kit” (as the students call it) includes everything a researcher might need to conduct interviews, observations, or focus groups in the field. The key is to keep the kit SMALL! If it is too big, you won’t take it with you. This photo shows one kit all packed up and my own kit opened for viewing. It is amazing what you can fit in a tiny bag if you just plan ahead!

Here is the picture without all of the text, so you can see how everything fits together.

I have to admit that collecting data is probably the most enjoyable part of my job. However, eventually I have to convert all of the raw data (interview transcriptions, observation notes, photos, etc) into some sort of format I can use to write up an article for publication (or… for a cruel, heart wrenching rejection letter, as is often the case in academia).

When I was in graduate school, I printed out all of my documents and coded the data with colored pencils (so I could erase my codes and re-classify my data as new themes/issues emerged). I also used post-its to write up notes/ideas and then attached these colorful pieces of paper to data I might want to use later. It was a messy and time consuming task – but it worked!

However, I lived in constant fear of losing one of my notebooks or having a sticky note fall off and forgetting some earth shattering idea that would make me famous among the 12-13 other people in the discipline who might read my article and find it profound.

Fortunately, we now have new methods for organizing and classifying qualitative data. There are a variety of software programs that allow researchers to import all sorts of data (photos, video, pdf, etc). The data can be preserved in a number of different formats so that is easy to make back up versions of your codes and raw data files.

Now that I have gone digital with my coding process, I don’t even need to print anything out. The software allows me to code (and re-code) my data as much as I want. The best part is that I don’t have to carry around giant binders any more…just a flash drive!

Below is an example of my current research on volunteer motivation and management. I have a number of different interviews saved in this qualitative data analysis software program (NVIVO). I also have dozens of code categories ready to apply to my data. The codes are easy to identify because they show up as colored strips on the side of the document. I can add and change these codes at any time, without impacting the original document. Fantastic!

New software tools also allow me to conduct data analysis that I could not easily do by hand. For example, the photo below is an example of a software program called “Crawdad” that allows me to find relationships between words in a single document or set of documents.

In this study, I was working with a firm that wanted to develop “smart” search terms for documents in a database it was creating for its employees. This software allowed our research team to find meaningful search terms (rather than rely on what the authors THOUGHT might be good terms or just rely on the most common words in the text). The software helped us rework the documents and search terms so people could find what they were looking for -- always a good thing!

A final set of tools I use are video cameras and digital editing equipment. These tools allow me to capture the non-verbal behavior of people in focus groups and interviews. I am lucky enough to have access to a separate editing/viewing suite attached to a focus group room. This allows me to conduct focus groups without the distraction of keeping notes of everything that is happening during the discussion. I can simply go back and replay the video later and conduct my analysis of the data. These tools allow me to be fully engaged in the focus group without having to worry about missing something.

In this image, I am using the video software to observe two sides of the focus group room at the same time. This allows me to see how people are reacting to what one member of the focus group is saying. Picture in picture viewing isn’t just for folks who can’t decide what to watch on TV. It is also a handy research tool!

Of course, the ultimate goal of a professor is to help students develop their own areas of interest. To
that end, this blog project was particularly enjoyable for me because it allowed me to involve one of my own students (Annalyce Grogan). Annalyce wants to combine her love of photography with her interest in organizations. SO – I hired her to take many of the photos for this blog posting. All of the interesting and focused shots are hers!!

The cherry on the sundae of academic life is watching your students graduate. So - here is a final photo (taken just last night) where I was able to don my professor robes and “hood” one of my graduate students (Heidi Germain) who earned her Master’s Degree in Organizational Communication. I’m not sure if my robes are really a “tool of the trade” but whenever I put them on I feel different and proud of my profession – so I guess they are part of my tool kit.

Thank you Angela for inviting me to participate. It was a lot of fun! - LG

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Thanks for participating, Lori! I love this detailed post. I think it wins for the longest guest post in Tools of the Trade so far. Trust an academic, eh?

Retro Friday: the product of a four-year old brain

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

Here's an example of my artwork, circa August 1969.

the body, the ego, the Soul Self

noreply@blogger.com (Angela Hemming) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 07:00:00 +0000

"The personal ego, until it has been tamed, is always saying, 'Look at me' or perhaps 'Don't look at me.' It all depends on how the ego has reacted to the essential wound it carries. To heal the ego's need to brag or to whine we must make the descent into the hidden hallways of the psyche, where knowledge of the small self dwells. But as we explore our past wounds, we must be sure to also ascend into alignment with the Higher Self. The Soul Self is detached enough to shine a clear, honest light even into our darkest corridors."

Anne Mortifee, In Love With the Mystery

I think some religions are on the right track with their "holy trinities," but most of them don't make sense to me.

I've come to believe in something very similar to Anne Mortifee's version above, that living beings have a physical body, an ego, and a higher self -- what we might call the soul -- and that it's possible to pay attention to the interaction and separation between these aspects of life.

I suspect that the 'soul' has an indefinite lifespan (existing before and after human life), but that part is beyond my comprehension.

For the fun of it, imagine that your 'soul' was plonked into your body at birth, and is spending your lifetime having a good look around. If its mission is to enable your physical body to experience the best in life, it's that nagging voice that tells you "Put that chocolate down and get to the gym." The ego can intervene, and it often does, saying "But I want this chocolate ..." and depending who wins, you'll either become a couch potato or very fit for your age.

And so goes the interplay.

The soul has a real challenge in getting that pesky ego to take care of the body properly, allowing all three elements to have the best possible time while on planet earth. It's not easy to quiet down the ego and be aware of the different aspects that make up our 'selves.' I think this is why so many religions value solitude and meditation as ways of connecting with 'the divine.'

Well, that's my theory anyway. It may be kooky, but aren't all religions a little ... out there?