Do Canadians support Canadian artists? 🎭🎤✍🏼

After publishing my first book in 2010, I bent over backward to get attention for my work. I contacted the media, tried to run ads, attempted to have contests, and offered to have a signing at a large Canadian chain, you name it. I did everything I could think of, but all this was relatively new and quite terrifying to me, but I recognized that I had to at least try. Everything felt like three steps forward, two steps back, and sometimes, it felt the other way around. 

As the years moved forward, I continued to push forward, continued to write, and continued to get frustrated. At a certain point, I decided to just do my thing and make an effort, but I was constantly swimming against the tide. I had some local media (mostly newspapers and a rare CBC radio interview) but it was hard and I didn't know the best strategy. It was like being stuck in quicksand and trying to move ahead. I finally decided to focus on my writing and not stress so much about my success rate. 

It was during those early years a former coworker told me something that struck home. She said her boyfriend was studying journalism and how it was apparently well-known that the industry in Canada didn't support their artist after they found success. Although I was still terribly insecure about my writing skills, something in that statement rang true. And to be honest, in years since, I've heard the same thing repeatedly for Canadian artists. Those powerful enough to help an artist move forward in their career often show no interest until they've found success elsewhere, then consider them 'Canada's own' with a sense of pride. It's kind of a kick in the ass. 

Of course, I'm not talking about the fans. Fans are a whole, different thing. Canadian artists often have a lot of support from those who appreciate their work, although I'd be lying if that was always the case. It sometimes happens that people can also be contrary until the artist has shown success, but overall, I think most people want to see their hometown talent shine through. It's just unfortunate that elitists at the top can't see that.

And just like that, I was back in the 90s again

I was recently captivated by a video that appeared on my Facebook feed from Moncton, New Brunswick in the early 2000s. As a former resident of the city, I'm always interested in vintage videos, images, or stories from the province where I spent most of my youth. The video was probably 5 minutes long and had been recorded from the passenger side of a car, as the cameraperson documented what they were seeing as they drove through the downtown area, from businesses to city landmarks. It brought back memories inspired by locations where I spent time, many of which no longer exist. 

I decided to check out this person's YouTube channel to see what else I could find. Much to my surprise, a cascade of memories pulled me back in time when I saw a video centered on friends from my youth, in the form of a documentary of a band they once were a part of in the 90s. I spent many hours in the house featured in the video, with the residents and others often dropping by, shortly after I moved to Moncton in the 90s. It was the first place I really felt I belonged, with a group of friends that accepted me. And when I started to watch this video, it was as if I were back in time again, walking through that same doorway.

The house itself was large, and old, from a time when homes had character, and with the right amount of TLC, it could've been a beautiful place again. Unfortunately, it had been neglected through the years. It was known as a party house before my friends moved in (in fact, I think they were some of the partiers) and I remember them saying there was a lot of deep cleaning required before anyone would move their worldly possessions in. I vaguely remember posters on the walls, the smell of cigarette smoke surrounding me, and empty Tim Horton cups sitting on the coffee table. And there was always music. Either a guitar being strummed or grunge music being played. In fact, I can't listen to an Alice in Chains song without being reminded of those days, that house, and my friends who lived in it. If walls could talk. 

People were in and out of that house, probably all hours of the night and day. Mostly because the tenants worked all hours, some with more than one job, just to get by but also because a stream of visitors (including myself) was frequent. This was back in the day when people still visited one another before devices became more important than eye contact. None of us knew how lucky we were or how much the world would change. 

Sadly, the changes included death. It was during that time that friends in my youth would start to die, much too young. One of the house's previous tenants, a man who became my friend after calling out 'hello' one day as I passed by, would commit suicide a few years later. I had spent some time with him but to this day, regret not having got to know him better. He was charismatic, friendly, and probably the first person I ever met whose reputation preceded him, for various reasons. He was a fascinating character who could've done a lot with his life. I regret he didn't have the opportunity.

Another friend I made during this time would pass away a few years later after I regretfully lost contact with him. During my early years in Moncton, we had many late-night chats on the phone, while he sat waiting for calls at a pizza delivery service that employed him. He essentially just sat there, waiting for the phone to ring, so he could chat on the phone in between. My friend was perfect for the job with a very smooth, kind voice, which made everyone at ease. When I found the video on YouTube that he was in, it sprung so many memories. Tears were in my eyes when I heard him talking to the camera, that voice I hadn't heard in decades. His easy-going manner, holding a guitar, it was as if time stood still. 

I have so many memories from those days. Friendships that faded for one reason or another, but all are a part of me and always will be.

Drab colors at Christmas? Does fashion reflect our times?

I'm not sure if you noticed it, but the colors are quite drab this season. I'm not saying this as a challenge for you to 'but, what about...' me, but to merely point out what I've noticed from a few retail sites that send me marketing emails regularly: Drab, dreary, dark clothing, ironically during a season most known for bright, vibrant colors. Has anyone else noticed this trend? 

This first got my attention in October when I was actively looking for a robe as a Christmas gift. I prefer shopping Canadian (I plan to make a blog post about this soon) so I went to the various sites that I thought might have something that I had, at the time, considered to be quite simple. I wasn't looking for a robe with a specific and distinct style. I wanted a long, warm robe. I preferred one that was high or reasonable quality, not the kind of garbage you'd buy for $20 at a discount store. I also wanted something with a pretty color. 

All I found were either short robes that barely covered your ass (the gift is for a 70-year-old, so she probably prefers something a little less provocative) or dark, dreary, gross colors. Some were white, which sounds pretty and luxurious until you spill coffee, get a nosebleed, and drop food on it, possibly all on the same day. But that's a whole other story.

That's when I noticed from my various emails that most of the clothing being advertised was depressing colors. Where were the rich red sweaters? The fun, pretty holiday colors? What about the flattering, beautiful dresses and shiny high heels to match? Most of the colors that I'm noticing are tame compared to what I was expecting. Perhaps it has always been this way, and I dreamed up something more, or maybe it's a reflection of our times. 

This brings us to the real question: Does fashion reflect our times? And what does this fashion say about our current times?