The Fro Speaks #15 – “Enough”

I feel like I always start these things one of two ways (if not both simultaneously):

1. “I’ve been meaning to finish this post for [x, y, z amount of time]…”
2. “Buckle up, settle in, this is gonna be a long one…”

And, y’know what? I’m not sorry.

More to the point, I reiterate both of the above Aust-che’s (pronounced like the first bit of my name and the last bit of cliche [klee-shay]).

Is it a good or a bad sign when you start naming things after yourself (even though they existed long before you)?

I was reading an article on The Conversation‘s website today and something caught my eye.

The article, written this time last year by Jamie Q. Roberts – a lecturer in politics and international relations at the University of Sydney – explores the life and work of philosopher Walter Benjamin.

Particularly, Roberts delves into a posthumously published collection of Benjamin’s essays entitled Illuminations.

“For Benjamin, in its earliest ritualistic incarnations, art was not even recognised as art but as magic,” Roberts writes.

Huh.

I often use the word ‘magic’ here to describe my feelings towards art and the making of art.

Theatre, to me, is magic. Writing can be magic. The visual art my brother pours his heart and time into… you guessed it: magic.

The act of telling stories and conveying ideas and interpreting or experiencing reality in creative ways – of embracing imagination, resisting the skepticism inherent to reinforced bias, frivolity, and facism. These are not buzz words. Simple truths.

One truth, for example, is that our phones wage a war for our attention every day.

Companies compete to colonize our minds.

The alliteration would be so delicious if it weren’t so upsettingly, frustratingly real.

Walter Benjamin identifies humans’ earliest relationships with art and, in doing so, also discusses Marxism and capitalism and just how much ‘art’ has changed in its societal definition or utility.

What is art in the age of ‘content’, right?

And then, there was artificial intelligence.

So, a few questions: how does all of this affect our ability to tell stories and convey emotion? Why do companies like Facebook and Google keep pushing this tech on us? What ever happened to good ol’ fashioned critical thinking? Do I sound like an old man shouting at the clouds yet?!

On a more personal level, I think of all the ‘content’ I consume on a regular basis.

I look at the way storytelling has changed in film and TV in many ways thanks to streaming platforms like Netflix and Prime Video and Crave.

I am transported back to a time when I was afraid to open the web browser on my first cellphone because every minute cost $0.50… and, to a time not long before that, when the concept of a personal cellphone was mind-boggling to me, DVDs had probably been invented but not introduced to the public yet, and cable ruled supreme (unless you had satellite).

And they don’t stop coming, and they don’t stop coming.

What would happen if we slowed down and took our time?

When is enough ‘enough’?

I think about this question every so often, like (I’d hazard a guess) others do… and then I extrapolate: when is there enough time? Enough money? Is my love enough? Am I being productive enough? Dedicating enough time to my passions?

Am I enough – are you?

Even just writing the word there, it feels so foreign, so strange in of itself.

Then I look here – at my blog – and how much I wish I could just sit and write more often. I reflect on the short, yet vast body of stagework I snuck into the past several years and how I plan to keep at it while I can.

I am enamoured with love and where it continues to lead me.

Maybe that’s it right there, then. Enough is… enough. We decide for ourselves.

And, as with anything in life, balance is key.

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On the topic of love and decisions, I witnessed two of my favourite people choose each other this summer – and it was as cathartic an experience as ever.

It’s only taken me t-minus three months or more to finally sit down and write about it.

While 2025 was a year of self-discovery, reconnecting with myself, and mending some bridges I thought were burned for good, it was also a year spent reminding myself of the love I am already surrounded by and the good people who I’ve had the honour of knowing and calling my friends.

Obviously, Spencer and Laura (my now-married friends) fall into the category of people I am proud to call my friends – but what I’m getting at also applies in a broader sense; sometimes, life gets busy and weeks, months, or years pass before you get back in touch with certain people.

The length of time, to me, never negates the memories.

Oftentimes, I think one of the best signs of a strong connection is that ability to simply pick right back up where you left off with someone like no time has passed.

You can’t expect that with every relationship in your life, obviously, and context counts.

As someone with ADHD and introverted tendencies who struggles to keep up with messages, I’m often playing catch-up and it leaves me with a mixture of guilt and anxiety; it’s something I’m still learning to self-regulate.

But, it also means there’s nothing I love more than bumping into someone and it feeling like no time has passed – that warmth, reminder of connection, and sense of community are irreplaceable.

It was just a few weeks ago when I bumped into an old acquaintance from university and found myself excited to learn he was raising a family with his partner and doing quite well. We hadn’t talked in years, but it was such a sweet interaction – like no time had passed, really. On a random Tuesday afternoon, gassing up our respective cars at K&A.

When we hugged and parted ways, it got me thinking – in an almost-spiritual sense – about the latitudes of connection that exist between us as human beings.

One of the essential elements this old acquaintance and I discussed was writing and storytelling.

No wonder we see, then, art as one of many ‘building blocks’ of connection.

And what drives us to create in the first place?

Well, there is this crazy little thing called Love, for starters…

It’s hard to describe how it felt to stand with Laura and Spencer during their ceremony – that act alone meant more than even the words I read aloud could describe.

In the midst of theatre-y things, prep for Discernment, and the continuation of the quarter-life crisis that began when I turned 25, I found myself transported back to a different, almost carefree time when my biggest worries were university assignments and marking student essays.

A time when my usual weekend was a drive out to camp with Rachel, where we’d be met by Laura and Spencer, Heather, and Jordan.

No matter the season, we’d gather to watch movies, play games, perhaps drink, and be merry.

Life takes us in so many directions though, doesn’t it? Love, inlaid – interwoven like veins along the tapestry of lifelines.

Campfire memories return to me often, swirling into nostalgia. Whisps of energy like tendrils of a held-on past; the glue – or part thereof – bridging experience and existence and love and everything beyond reason that we understand internally or intuitively.

Latitudes.

Spencer and Laura’s wedding was like a ‘window’ – a moment in time where the elements of my life aligned and I could see straight through from the past to the present; I could see the “tapestry”, this enormous and yet minute experience of experiences.

No, I wasn’t high. Though isn’t notalgia considered a drug by some?

It’s just, I could see the suredness in Laura and Spencer, ‘y’know? I could feel their certainty.

I saw eternity.

Okay okay, melodramatic much? I know. I’m publicly willing to admit I’m what some might consider crazy but, if there’s anything I learned from Danny DeVito’s Frank Reynolds in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, life is for gettin’ “weird with it.”

I digress.

This is about a moment in time where I was reminded what that commitment to love looks like and how that’s the magic, y’know? That energy, those memories, and a merging of worlds – sharing the experiences life has to offer and the promise of Love.

Spencer and Laura’s wedding was the culmination of their beautiful beginning as a couple and the confirmation of a whole new chapter in their lives.

My only regret about going to the wedding is that I couldn’t stay longer.

Oh, and here’s the poem I wrote in case you’re interested (and, yes, the ending is 1 Corinthians 13 – so not wholly original but it fit the mood):

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As I watched my friends enter their new chapter, it gave me time to reflect on the new chapter I was entering too.

I’ve met Love at so many different points in my life.

I still ‘fall in love everyday’ as I once said sitting in the grad student lounge at Lakehead years ago.

At the time, I was at what felt like a crossroads in my life – in my relationship at the time, at school, with my dreams and goals.

The one person I kept forgetting to love again-and-again was myself.

I sought something or someone that could fill the void I created where my lack of self-love was and, much to my surprise, found myself disappointed. I didn’t know what I wanted, really, other than to be treated fairly by partners and friends.

I used to scream-sing, “I Want Love” by Elton John, in that old apartment above Bonobo’s whenever I was home alone because I felt broken – something about being “dead in places other men feel liberated” rang true to me then.

Love, like any other natural force in this universe, ebbs and flows.

And, I was an emotional kid. Still am – probably moreso in some ways now.

But it took me the longest time to see that I could never show myself the love I showed others. Up until very recently, I began to realize that was still true.

It reminded me that healing really isn’t linear.

That’s the balance, not just (as some might describe) the toll.

It reminds me that, in order to accept myself and the journey I’ve been on in this crazy life, I must face, own, and incorporate or process the swathe of emotions I feel looking at the more cynical parts of myself, the mistakes I’ve made, or the ways I’ve hurt myself or others – my shadow self (thank you, Carl Jung); that old black dog… the shadow self.

And, there’s that thing – that guilt – which hangs over me. Something ingrained, not necessarily tied to one specific thing.

Imposter Syndrome(TM) does run deep with this one. I often wonder how far back it stems?

Maybe it began in grade school during the ‘crazy years’ – or maybe it was later, during high school and the beginning of my theatre aspirations in earnest. I suppose the reality is that much of my self-discovery and personal evolution is tied to theatre and acting.

Every time I get involved in the theatre community or in a new project, I feel a oneness I’ve described here before.

And, every time I step onstage or in front of a camera, I feel closer to myself; how paradoxical considering the context.

Perhaps that’s why “Theatre for the Love of It!” spoke to me so strongly with Cambrian Players – a slogan that encapsulates why I do it (and why so many others do).

Theatre doesn’t just lead you to places or ideas – it leads you to people and community… it leads you to your soulmate.

And, therein is what makes the ‘love’ of it all really tick!

Art really has been a life – and love – line.

No one can prepare you for the moment you really meet yourself – or the person you aspire to be.

It’s even harder to describe the cosmic nature of it all because, surely, none of this is possible? Or, at least, that’s how it feels. Impossible.

But, then again, “four white mice will never be four white horses – such fol-de-rol and fiddledy dee of course is…”

We all love a good Cinderella story, don’t we?

Speaking of which, Maranda recently showed me the film Ever After (1998) because I had not seen it like the uncultured bippity-bop I am! I laughed, I cried, I rooted for not only Drew Barrymore but also Leonardo Da Vinci and his boat shoes. I give the film eleven boat shoes out of ten.

Watching Danielle de Barbarac’s story unfold makes me think about my own journey.

When did I really start feeling like I was enough – not for others but for myself?

I guess it really did start with theatre…

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Specifically, it starts with a song.

It always starts with a song – and a dream.

Every year, the Beal Musical Theatre class would travel to Sheridan College in Oakville and take in a show performed by Sheridan’s musical theatre students. Before that, the class also got a chance to witness some mid-year performance evaluations (essentially, musical theatre ‘exams’), ask questions of professors and students alike, and get a sense of where pursuing theatre beyond high school might take us.

Standing at the back of a theatre classroom at Sheridan College in Oakville, watching second year students’ performance evaluations and auditions, I remember thinking there was no way I was capable or talented enough to pursue theatre as a lifelong career.

I have a very specific memory of taking in a student’s performance of “Finishing the Hat” from Sunday in the Park with George by Stephen Sondheim and thinking to myself, a) This is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever heard, how is this guy a student?; and, b) I could never hold a candle to that.

Later during that trip, my teachers and fellow BMT classmates gave me a polite push to sing for some of the Sheridan prof’s and I reluctantly went for it.

The feedback I recieved was overwhelmingly positive. I was baffled.

Maybe that was really the first time I felt so much of that inner noise melt away like I’d finally recieved some higher validation I’d been seeking to know I wasn’t terrible or what I viewed as simply ‘good enough’.

At the time, I thought back to my audition just to get into the BMT program.

Even now, I often commend ‘past Austin’ for his ability to override anxiety and do the thing because I was an anxious mess before that audition. I felt like I was way out of my depth and yet, at the same time, like I was right where I wanted to be.

I thought I had no business being on the stage but I also knew I had to try.

I think, too, hearing ‘professionals’ tell you that you’re on the right track never hurts your confidence. There is an energy harnessed in the confidence that gives you.

Every experience I’ve had performing or acting has only made me more comfortable exploring on-stage. Every success, and every mistake or moment I was too nervous to lay it all out there.

And, the moments in my life when I’ve been involved in theatre have been the most personally illuminating and rewarding on a deeply emotional, nigh spiritual level (not to mention the creative aspects, of course)!

I will always be grateful to theatre, and the amazing people with whom I’ve interacted across many communities now, for giving me some measure of confidence and focus, yes – but also for showing me that love powers it all.

Love of the craft, love for each other, love for the environment, and true love for ourselves that we then emanate and share as well.

I’m fascinated by all I’ve learned and continue to learn.

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One thing I can count on is my ability to hyperfixate – and, yes, I’m calling it an ability because its a quality I appreciate about myself… it has its upsides and downsides.

Namely, I have to shut everything/one else out to focus.

I can listen to music when I’m completing a task but then my phone buzzes, I get a message, and my anxiety about crafting the perfect response or giving the person who messaged me my complete and undivided attention spirals me into avoidance.

I get overwhelmed. I get tired. I remind myself no one is perfect and my brain is no different. Rinse, wash, repeat. Patterns.

The older I get, the more I see: time, in my case, is a matter of perspective.

Here’s to the ‘me’ still learning what the word ‘balance’ means while in pursuit of his own dreams, with an aim to live a life doing what he loves.

I guess, truthfully, life has been crazy lately (okay, when isn’t it? But still!).

Crazy in all the best ways.

So what has Austin been up to? Why hasn’t the Maybelline lawsuit against him been settled yet? Did they ever reveal who shot J.R on Dallas (1978)?!

All this and more, after the following ad from our sponsors.

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We have a trailer!

There is still so much I’d like to write about the experience I had working on this film and what it meant to me. I just don’t want to spoil anything – because, thematically, Discernment came right at the time I needed it most in my life.

Serendipity is one thing. Following your heart is another.

Seeing the trailer only reaffirmed what I already knew: I love film, I love acting, and I love the collaboration it all comes with.

The excitement overwhelms the anxiety and imposter syndrome, in this case.

In terms of bucket list items, the last half of 2025 shaped up to be the start of an almost-ethereal period in my life; what I mean is that nothing felt or seemed real and yet I was also acutely aware of what I was experiencing and trying to relish it before it was over, taking mental snapshots the whole time.

Oh, how I miss my hunt for that bipedal beastie of all beasties.

The one. The only.

Ah, Ephraim Ellis’ Bigfoot.

I remember auditioning for director (and artistic director at Magnus) Thom Currie and thinking, “let’s just see what happens here.”

Coming off of work on Discernment, I felt a hunger to continue acting and challenge myself further. Despite walking into that audition with some level of confidence (at least enough to register for the audition itself), I still never imagined I would be offered a role.

It’s all a big, beautiful blur.

I received the offer to portray Jake Beckett – reknown host of Beckett on Bigfoot – just as I was returning to work at the Port.

Again, life naturally had other plans.

I’m still not sure any of this actually happened.

There are often days where I have to pinch myself to remember it is, in fact, real. Much like Jake at the end of Bigfoot when things take a surprising turn.

Working with Micaela, Noah, Thom, Gillian and a mind-blowingly creative crew in Dave, Lisa, Nadia, and Jeff made the whole process seem even more surreal!

After dabbling in the world of Magnus twice before with 10×10 and The Muppets, it was nice to gain a different perspective, work closer with Magnus’ creative team, and see how a professional theatre company operates.

In the end, what did we discover?

Bigfoot? Maybe.

An insatiable love – nay, lust (too far?) – for taco dip? Even mayb-ier (no one said having an MA in English means I can’t create words).

That Austin loves acting and being onstage and collaborating in settings like Magnus, Cambrian, and the occasional film set? That, detective, is the right question.

We also discovered that Thom Currie tells some wicked stories!

And, Ephraim Ellis is cool people – don’t let the “shooting Drake” mass hysteria fool you.

Seriously though, it was an honour not only to perform Ephraim’s work for audiences here in Thunder Bay but also to perform it for Ephraim himself. It was also so nervewracking I think it qualifies as an out-of-body experience.

But more to my overall point here, 2025 was a year I will never forget on many fronts and that is especially true when it comes to pursuing those little old dreams of mine.

In the midst of Bigfoot rehearsals, I auditioned for Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors at Cambrian – because you know I can’t stay away and, to boot, Maranda was directing.

Needless to say, there was a biting tension in the air while I awaited Maranda and her team’s final casting decisions.

In the end, Vinny the Vampire-Mover was born. More about that later, though.

Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors is an experience I will never forget.

Maybe it was getting to work with Maranda, who I’d work with any chance I can get; maybe it was the cast stacked with talented, personable, hilarious performers who remind me why being a part of a Cambrian Players show feels like home; maybe, too, it was the crew – skilled, intensely knowledgeable, dedicated, and also hilarious/personable artists…

The set design by Nicholas Palinka and Bryan Davis, married with Julie MacCoy’s costumes, Ariana and team’s props, Aleksa Shermack’s sound design, and Ken Horton’s lighting?!

Emily, stage managing like a boss, with Nico assisting.

*chef’s kiss*

Not to mention, Rourkie, Raunak, Sam, Cheryl, Kris, Roland, Sandra, and more of Cambrian’s dedicated volunteers, new and experienced, than I can even name here.

But, really, we had the best captain at the helm who assembled this cantankerous crew.

To say it was an honor and privilege to work with this cast, crew, and the love of my life would all be a gross understatement.

At a moment of massive change and growth in my life – theatre-wise, love-wise, decision-wise – getting the chance to play in Dracula was just what I needed. Between Maranda’s vision and the script by Gordon Greenberg and Steve Rosen, there was so much material to sink our teeth into and so, so much to do onstage.

Including taking on the role of a lifetime… drumroll please…

May I present to you: Vinny the Vampire-Mover(TM), the brainchild of random accent-inflected conversations with Zoe, Nico, Jarin, and whoever else was in close enough proximity to bother or drive up the wall (sorry, Chris!) before every performance.

The beauty of this headcanon – other than the fact it started with random accents and grew from there – is that it also arose from a sequence in the show where I move the coffin to various points on the stage. Crucially, I have no lines during this entire sequence but the identity – nay, the very essence – of who the coffin-mover was fascinated me.

Enter Vinny. A man / familiar who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, especially if it means saving a coffin or two from scuff marks. A man who believes in loyalty and unions.

I often wonder what happened to Vinny following the events of Dracula.

One day, maybe, we’ll write that story.

For now, what I can say is the energy backstage and in rehearsals was constantly creative and everyone had a great sense of humour. It reminded me of Of Marriage Minded Misses in terms of that feeling of ‘coming home’ – but with cruder jokes and lot more Ken burping in drag.

Next up, we have The Wolves, written by Sarah DeLappe and directed by Rachel Warburton.

This show is a whole different caliber of funny, dark, moving, and particularly creative in its staging. Even just at the readthrough alone, I was blown away by the evident chemistry among the cast and I was impressed with how they picked up the dialogue.

DeLappe writes in such a way that you really feel like you’re listening to a group of teenage girls banter with each other. It’s as much how they speak, structurally (i.e. overlapping lines, cut-offs, interjections, backround conversations, etc.) as it is what they speak about.

Naturally, things get heavy. I can’t really say more without spoiling anything!

But, if you haven’t already, now is a great time to grab those tickets before the big final push: https://www.eventbrite.ca/cc/the-wolves-4810508

This is my first time leading the publicity management (PPM) team and it’s been an exciting learning curve, especially after being on the general PPM team for several shows now.

My job is made easier by the fact we have an incredible team who remind me when to, and when not to, panic.

I can’t wait for audiences to see the show next week. I know I can’t wait to see it, and operate lights!

Looking ahead to the rest of the season, we’ve got Calendar Girls – written by Tim Firth and directed by Jesica McNabb – and an exciting line-up of Green Room and Improv shows to sate your theatre appetites.

Not to mention, On Thin Ice at Magnus Theatre, Caberet at Badanai Theatre, The Box by Eleanor Drury Children’s Theatre, and Once Upon A One More Time at Triple Threat Talent… and there’s definitely more but here we are and there it goes.

Rehearsals are now underway for Applauze Productions‘ Cinderella (1957), for one.

I’m so excited to join this ensemble for my first foray with Applauze – so many familiar faces, much like Dracula, but also so many new faces too.

Not to mention, the chance to perform in a musical again!

Based on the read/sing-through alone I can guarantee this is going to be quite the show – and timely, in its own way.

I think the word ‘impossible’ carries a lot of weight.

On a personal level, this show and the experience so far are another reminder of the good I’m surrounded by in this community.

Despite the confusion and chaos of the wide world I am blessed.

And I mean to take that privilege and put it to work – in my volunteering, for example, and in the way I treat others, the actions I take in life, and so much more.

I weave the tapestry further and further.

We all weave, and write, and sing, and dance, and paint, and act…

… and live.

Maybe that’s enough. I know I am – and I’m living with that (and eating cheese) in mind.