Three recent experiences that have made me question the world and my place in it. And as with every experience, there are winners and there are losers.
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My office is in the Queen Street and Spadina Avenue area of Toronto and one of a few Chinatowns in the city. I love taking breaks and going for short walks around the neighbourhood.
A few weeks ago, I was walking down a quiet street and stopped to cross the road. An elderly woman, looking quite lost, stood on the other side of the street. She stared at me, catching my eye and motioned for me to come over. I looked around, confused, was she pointing at me? No one else was around and so I shrugged and made my way to her.
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I have a secret. An embarrassing statement. An addiction. Please don’t judge me. Let me explain.
At the beginning of the year, I put on a show called Better Than Grisham. There was storytelling by me, comedy by Monica Hamburg and music by Arlene Paculan. We performed at The Belltower Cafe, which is literally in a Lutheran Church. Like, our stage was the pulpit.
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A couple of weeks ago on a Saturday night, the last performer finished their story and the host of the show wrapped things up. Thus ended the latest season of the Stories We Don’t Tell. Almost every month since September 2017, Stefan Hostetter and I have organized the event bringing together amazing storytellers and incredible audiences in different apartments and houses across the city.
Stories We Don’t Tell specializes in deeply personal stories that are sometimes funny and sometimes sad, but always compelling. One of our goals is to connect the performer and the audience in an intimate way, creating an unforgettable experience for everyone in the space.
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