As an artist, most of my happiest memories are of past collaborations.  The moments of being in a room or on stage together with other like-minded individuals; exploring motifs, chord changes and stories have made me feel alive and seen. I’ve developed lifelong friends, and have even watched love blossom in between.  With those memories in mind, a desire to grow my artistic practice and, after a health event that set me back several months, I applied to the Arts Commons TD Incubator program. The program is designed to provide space for collusion between artists of every genre and medium; to delve into the flexibility of the artist’s ability to shift between practices and to develop their inner creative. In my application, I wrote about my desire to collaborate, to develop my songwriting, and described the self-awareness of needing to take risks.

You see, I often say yes to things I don’t want to do, and no to things that would be good for me.  I let the outside world define who I was as an artist, rather than allow my fear to help guide my path. 

In the midst of a very busy back-to-school season, I received word that I had been accepted into the 2024-25 cohort. I was quite happy to see the results until I saw the proposed schedule. The program was set to begin in just under a month, and the performance dates conflicted with spring plans for shows in support of my latest release (never mind the added pressure of being the primary parent who just accepted a new job at a music foundation). After sitting on the offer for a few days, and supportive discussions with my partner, I decided to say yes anyway. I was always saying yes to the wrong things and so, if this one scared me, I figured this was the right direction to go in.   

I knew that the TD Incubator program would give me the opportunity to meet new people, to get fresh perspectives and step outside the routine of daily life with three kids, a cat and a very demanding schedule. I need sacred space to feel free, to allow vulnerability, and this was going to be the next step.

Fast forward a month later and I woke up on the day of the program's Summit sick. Another obstacle, I say to myself. When will they ever end?  

Living with an anxious mind, one that is nearly always in fight, flight, or fright mode, makes it difficult to see outside yourself, and –– even more importantly –– inside yourself. It makes accessing the well of creativity incredibly challenging. For folks like me, collaboration is the balm to that terrorizing way of being. It’s the reason why I started my blog, MOTHER/MUSIC/HOOD, for I hoped to understand how other mothers were doing their creative work while parenting. The process of writing the blog, sharing it and knowing that folks resonate with it allows me to see I am not alone. Whenever I share my artistic journey with someone, it never ceases to amaze me how many folks can corroborate my stories. How they justify my feelings. How they too feel burdened by their anxious mind. Add motherhood to that, and it becomes a complex web of emotions.

Collaborations also play a role in teaching artists how to effectively communicate, with both other artists and the audience. As social beings who are spending more and more time in front of a screen, we have lost the ability to stay focussed long enough to get a thought across, to even finish sentences –– something I know I am guilty of. The TD Incubator program creates a shared goal and fulfills this need to express the ideas that are swimming around in your brain and bring them to light. Perhaps ideas you didn’t even know you had. 

Collaborations take away the need for things to be “perfect.” Many of us agonize over how the performance will be received by the audience. But when onstage with others who also have a stake in the show, the journey actually becomes the destination, and the performance is the icing on the cake. In her book, Daring Greatly, Brené Brown identifies this as  “wholeheartedness,” and this is what I look forward to most in the Origins: Spirit performance on April 11. Due to injury, I am no longer able to take part, but Josh Dalledonne and the team at Arts Commons have brought together five amazing local artists. What you will witness of Mx Jender, Kelly, the Sand Artist, Luke Little Chief, Eazy G, and Kenna Burima is a public display of said wholeheartedness –– for you, the audience, and between the artists themselves.  

As the artists explore the foundational question of “Where are you from?” your job is to bear witness to this expression of wholeheartedness and allow it to open yours.

Interested in hearing more from Aimee-Jo Benoit and other local artists? Head over to our friends at The Scene and discover more great interviews, artist features, and highlights from Calgary’s arts and culture scene.