I see the best and the worst of humanity in my line of work. I meet all kinds of people and hear all sorts of stories and histories and witness entire lives play out in front of me. I’ve born witness to marriage proposals, heartbreak, acts of bravery, acts of deceit, even acts of cruelty (Jane Creba’s Boxing Day murder comes to mind) and continually see ghosts of downtrodden people quietly accepting and going about a way of living that will eventually take their lives.

Ironically, for a mime, I used to talk a lot. I still do, as many journalists mention in surprise during interviews. But, in recent years, I’ve learned to simply watch and look past the words of others; for how one responds to situations they are experiencing is the true test of character. The benefit of my job is the ability to passively watch the world go by and hope that one day I may understand this humanity that I love so much, and as a result, I find myself with fewer words as days go by.

Sometimes I feel as though I have a lot to say; occasionally, I will make posts like this in an effort to sort out my own understanding of what it means to be a human being on this planet. I also rationally know that my observations are my own, and I certainly don’t treat them polemically. But I so desperately want to arrive at the conclusion (at my life’s conclusion) that humanity is good, that people are fundamentally good and that we all deserve compassion, humility, forgiveness and unconditional love. I do my best in my waking life to express those ideas both in my work and in my personal life.

I’m sure we all go through our moments of doubting the things we want so much to understand. But, it is our unwavering positivity in seeking out the good that is what drives us to continue to do what we love. It is our actions that define us, not our words. I try to live my life honestly, and I try to be as honest with myself as I am with others. My philosophy in life is that “Everything is Permitted”, an idea that originated through the work of Dostoevsky, and it has been this philosophy that allows me to continue to do what I do; for living life through action can be challenging. It requires one to extend beyond their boundaries of comfort, it requires us to examine everything around us deeply and critically. It requires us to be prepared to let go of even the most deeply important things to us: be it a belief system (or, as an atheist, I like to say “way of understanding things”), a lifestyle or even a relationship—sometimes the most important ones, like our parents. And of course, it requires trust: trust in ourselves, trust in those around us. Trust that you will be okay, no matter what.

And you know what, folks? You will be okay. No matter what. Because, from my experience, all people want is acceptance. And acceptance can be hard to grant (..or even accept), but it is out there. If you are willing to grant acceptance, then you will be okay. I do what I do and take the abuse that I do from life because I accept it. I accept humanity. I accept everyone in it. I accept that we are all, in our own ways, supremely flawed. And when I find something in life that is good, and right, then I grab it and hold onto it. Hard. A life of action is a fearless life.

There is nothing to be afraid of in life. And when you find that thing that is right and good, then you need to grab it and never let go.

With Toronto Buskerfest rapidly approaching, I know I should be taking the opportunity to post about that. And I promise I will, in due time. But today I would like to take the time to dedicate a post to something a bit different: politics.

I am devastated by the death of the Honourable Mr. Jack Layton.

Jack Layton lived in my neighbourhood. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and talking with him and his wife, Olivia Chow, on several occasions.

His tireless efforts in recontexualizing the face of the NDP in the eyes of Canada was incredible. He was a force to be reckoned with, and his historic win as the official Opposition in Parliament was just a step in a future that could have been a pivotal turn in Canadian politics. He worked hard to involve the younger demographic (that’s me!) and his passion for our country was honest, genuine and raw. You can read it in his final message to Canadians.

As an NDP supporter, as a neighbour, and as a Canadian citizen, I am shocked, devastated and saddened by his death. I’m doing my best to share in his unwavering optimism, but, honestly? I’m fearful for the state of leftist politics in Canada. In the wake of our growing conservatism, the growing interest in privatization, the lack of interest in supporting socialized programs, the arts and our medical system, I can only wonder where our country will be in the next few years. But, rather than focus on the despair, I’ll share these words from his final message:

“My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.”

Today is a very sad day in Canadian politics. Rest in peace, Mr. Layton, and if you happen to read this, Ms. Chow, please know that I stand behind you as a Canadian, fellow NDP supporter, and as neighbour in Kensington Market.

Much love,
Kate Mior

working, even while on the road!

I am popping in between stops on tour to make a little post. I’m writing this post while on the greyhound headed to Ottawa! So much has happened in the last two weeks while on tour,  I promise I will be making a post with photos soon! I also have gotten quite a bit of video of Coppelia that I can’t wait to cut together and put up for you all!

However, today, I’m taking the opportunity to write a little post about travel etiquette.

Today, while waiting for the bus to come and take me to Ottawa, I experienced an older individual attempting to cut into line. Now, I travel a lot, as you all know, and, as a result, I experience a lot of humanity’s quirks and have experienced both the most amazing things while traveling (somebody lending me their credit card to re-book a flight) and some of the most horrible (…anytime going through American customs!), but, I have a special disdain for cutting in line. To me, it exemplifies entitlement so perfectly and accurately that it simply makes me feel ill.
I tweeted the incident and was a bit surprised by the comments from people admonishing me for admonishing an elderly person for that kind of behaviour, suggesting that they have a right to cut in line due to their age.

I disagree.

I suppose I may have had different experiences with the elderly, but, I have been fortunate to have such amazing influences on my life. My grandmother, Angela Mior, is a shining example of how to grow old gracefully: she exercises every day. She keeps her mind sharp. She is always laughing, she is always learning and she continues to grow, and, at the age of 85, she can still kick my butt. I draw a lot of inspiration from my grandmother in my work because she is always smiling and telling jokes. She is a living Lucille Ball, that one!

I also have an elderly friend Bob who also serves to be a role model to me; he may walk with a cane, he may have some physical ailments, but, he still parties with the 20somethings at my favourite karaoke bar WAY harder than most young’uns and often closes the place down (I admit that I wimp out early, usually because I am training or gigging the next day!). And he never uses his disabilities as an excuse. Neither of these two people use their age as an excuse to gain advantages in life. Using something like age as a crutch, to me, expresses emotional weakness and nothing more. I’m fortunate to have such positive forces in my life such as my grandmother and Bob: they are teaching me how to grow old. They are teaching me to never stop learning, to never stop growing, and to always be aware of my surroundings and cognisant of others and how my behaviour affects them. Hopefully reading about them can inspire you folks to do the same.

I’m not saying to not treat the elderly with respect; I’m saying we don’t need to treat folks older than us with kid gloves. And folks who *are* older: please don’t allow feelings of entitlement to hold up lines or screw other people who have followed the rules out of their privileges. We’re all in it together, guys.

While performing at Harbourfront, I was met with a particularly vehement reaction from a passerby, who told her friend (purposely within earshot of me) that she did not give money to “those people”.
When I mimed a shrug of ‘why not?’ she spat back at me, “Because you need to get a REAL JOB.”

While I am not interested in revealing the rest of our interaction (suffice to say it is quite sad for me to even publish–the elitism of some people is too depressing to even mention), I am interested in writing a response to the tiring, and yet age-old tension between “real” jobs and “fake” jobs.

Busking is not a conventional job, I know. Hell, I was dumped by a long-term partner over my “fake” job, which many will dismiss as an illegitimate form of employment.

Throughout the years, I’ve been asked all sorts of stupid questions (sorry folks, unlike your grade six teacher, I refused to buy into “there are no stupid questions” crap. There ARE stupid questions, and trust me folks–I get plenty of ‘em) ranging from “So let me guess, you go on welfare in the winter time?” to even our OWN CURRENT MAYOR, Rob Ford, upon walking through my crowd to campaign as I was doing a show, insinuating that I don’t even pay my taxes (oh, and by the way, Mayor Ford, I absolutely do pay my taxes, thanks for asking).

But far and wide, the most insulting inference about busking is that it is not a legitimate job.

Let’s look at the history of busking, shall we?

It’s hard to pinpoint the origins of this trade as it’s pretty much as old as prostitution. When and wherever there has been art in history, there have been poor artists who have to fight to earn their income. Our history is largely through oral tradition. The current incarnation of busking that we perform and that you see now was trailblazed in the 70s and 80s by folks like the Checkerboard Guy, Gazzo, and the Three Canadians. It’s to folks like these that I owe much gratitude. Thanks to folks like Chalkmaster Dave and Silver Elvis, we have a licensing system here in Toronto that both protect me and allow me to work. These artists are why I get to travel in a cushy manner to far-off lands to perform shows for adoring fans. Even though I am a dying breed of “streeties” (hard street buskers) in the wake of the festival circut and culture, I know that I am not nearly as hard as these legends.

There is such a range of people who take to the streets, ’tis true: from beginner living statues with crappy costumes, to That Guy With the Guitar, to the crazy dude with the chessboard, it can be daunting to sift through the muck to find the diamonds. But there are diamonds out there, folks. Trust me, I am fortunate enough to work with many of them.

People forget that in a country like Canada, it can be damn difficult to eke out a living as an artist: many of us choose to have day jobs to make ends meet, or, like myself, choose to street perform. And, if we choose to go the pro route with street performing…..well, I feel like it’s almost unnecessary for me to even have to condescend to tell you all about the many hours I spend training, booking, writing up invoices, negotiating contracts, working with directors, balancing the creative and the business-side, wrangling my insurance and licenses, work-permits abroad, etc. … wait.. this is suspiciously sounding like a Real Job™ to me!

The beauty, though, is that the time spent on the street is what helps us hone our crafts so we can get cushier jobs. Here are just a few famous people who started out as buskers:

Steve Martin
Louis Armstrong
Penn & Teller
Bob Dylan
Irving Berlin
BB King

Oh..and guess who else? CIRQUE DU SOLEIL.

The irony, of course, being that Cirque Du Soleil has since made such an impact upon the performing arts industry, globally, but, specifically within Canada so much so that we circus artists are now granted er.. ‘grant-getting’ status by the Canada Council for Arts. We are finally recognized as legitimate artists!!

The problem of making the argument between ‘high’ art and ‘low’ art is that it becomes muddied when you are talking about intermediate artists like myself: people who aren’t ‘famous’ but people who can make a comfortable living through producing their own art. What does that make us? “middle art”?

I conducted an interesting experiment last week.

I have a routine that I perform on stage. It’s corporeal mime-based. It’s guaranteed to be artsy and fartsy and “high” art. I trained on it for a long time, worked with a talented artist and developed it based upon classical mime–an art I have studied and paid money to learn. I took it to the street and incorporated it into my statue act for jokes. It did NOT get the response I get when performing on stage. And yet, I get paid to perform it on stages!

Different art for different contexts. No less legitimate. Hell, I would argue that busking is FAR more legitimate: I’ve touched more audiences here and abroad through my street shows than I ever have with my corporate cabaret acts. Plus, what other job gives you the product before asking for payment, now, really?

This is what I do for a living and I take it very seriously. I have no time for “weekender”  (or, as I call then “tourist”) buskers who have day jobs. I have no time for pitch-wasters, and I especially have no time for people who don’t care to understand the amount of work that goes into putting a show together to give to the general public at our own free will.

If busking is  a “fake” job in the eyes of the public, then so be it, but you can be sure that I will argue tooth and nail that it is a legitimate one.

Hope you all had a great Victoria Day weekend! I sure did.  I had a great time performing at the Toronto International Circus Festival (TICF) and the Warkworth Lilac Festival. If you happened to come out to TICF, you may have caught Coppelia roving around, bumping into people and things! Maybe you even got a chance to wind her up?For those of you who missed it, I managed to snap a shot of her in one of her many, MANY costumes! I had a blast performing for all of the awesome audiences who came out to the wonderful (free!) event held at Harbourfront Centre.

Coppelia as 'Robo-Wife 9000' - Thanks to Kristen McGregor for the shot!

This weekend heralded in the official start to the summer busking season! What fun!
This, of course, means it’s also time for a refresher for some of you about a topic I am very passionate about: that’s right – busking etiquette!

Over the years, I’ve compiled a list of things to do and not do if you happen to stumble across a busker in your town!

The Do’s:
1. DO stop and watch the show! After all, you’re bound to see something pretty remarkable!

2. DO get involved in the show! Most of us don’t have a show without an audience or participants to help us out! This includes making lots of noise when we do stuff you like.

3. If you take a picture or have been called to be a part of the show, MAKE A DONATION. It is *bad* busker etiquette to engage in a show and walk away without any contribution. If I’m good enough for you to take a picture of, then I’m good enough for a tip.

The Don’ts:

1. DON’T walk through a show as it’s happening. This especially includes chalk-drawing and statue shows. Remember: when we are performing, our area of the sidewalk (‘pitch’) is our stage, and you wouldn’t walk across a stage at your local theatre, would you?

2. DON’T give pennies. Nothing is more insulting to a busker than small coin. We all would much rather prefer you say something like ‘Thank you for making my day!’ or, perhaps even say ‘it wasn’t my bag’ (and even then, you can walk away before the finale..)

…that’s pretty much all I can think of for now. Just remember one rule of thumb if you happen across one of us working this summer: what other job gives you the product before asking for compensation? Just remember to tip us what you think we are worth (*cough*$5*cough*) and have a wonderful experience watching the magic unfold before your eyes!

See you this summer!