After seven years working at Arts Commons (almost to the day as I write this), and in the arts sector in general, I have become accustomed to the fall being the start of our new year—something that was not really part of my life before moving here. Where I grew up, the school year went from January to October, and I only went to university in Canada for a few years before completing my degree.
I like to think of August 31st as the stand-in for a New Year's Eve in the arts. I have always thought there is something magical about that unassuming day when we close our season (and our financial books) and we get ready to start it all again. In the arts world, our New Years’ resolutions are the goals we have set in our performance reviews, the events we have programmed, the money we need to raise, and the ambitious projects we have set out to do. On September 1st, much like students starting a new school year, we start executing our grand plans to bring the arts to our community for yet another season.
This year, I started my fall with a trip to the east, Montreal specifically. Montreal holds a special place in my heart as the location where myself and my family landed on a brisk fall day, 15 years ago. I walked around the beautiful streets of Montreal filled with a swoony spectrum of autumnal colours, armed with my 35 mm colour film disposable camera. It was not lost on me that, to be back there so close to the anniversary of that unforgettable fall day, with my family was a fortuitous tribute to the life I have built here. On this occasion, thanks to some fast deals and frugal planning with my friend, I also ended up staying a few blocks away from the hotel I stayed at originally, a hotel called Le Roberval, located close to the Berry/UQAM metro. When I was walking those streets 15 years ago, I did not know life would bring me to Calgary. Nor did I know that it would bring me to working in a beautiful historic building where I have met some of the most important people in my life, where I love getting lost in, and where art happens in every corner.
One of the events that marks the fall for me is Day of the Dead on November 1st. I have written in the past for the blog about what that day means to me and about Latin American culture in general. But the last couple of years were different: I went through the death of two family members, I separated from my husband, I moved my entire life to a one-bedroom apartment, I got COVID (and more recently Bronchitis), my dad’s health declined significantly, and I started dealing with chronic pain. My mind and my concentration have never been like this before, and there are days where I wake up with a sense of dread about the future. I feel burnt out and have felt this way for a while. I have a lot to grieve, and to recover from.
The Day of the Dead has always been a special day of mental clarity for me. Last year, my mom, my sister and I put together a special altar at my parents' house that really helped us process grief. This year, due to the fact I was sick and couldn’t leave my house, I honoured the changes in my life, and my love for those I’ve lost, by pausing for a second, thinking about what I want in life, what I want to achieve, and by quietly celebrating my anniversaries.
As we move into the colder and final part of the year, my heart sinks a little because I am in need of warmth, and a reminder that this city is alive and thriving even when it is -20 degrees outside. I am strengthened by the truth that I can go to a beautiful show put on by my peers and allow myself to heal through the spell of the arts. I am reminded that after the (actual) end of the year, there will be a flurry of festivals and performances to go to, sharing energy and connection in a dark time. I need to also remember that I still hold inside me the drive that was gifted to me by those who left this world too soon, that I am still a resilient immigrant woman who came to Canada with dreams of being a part of an arts community. There is life after the unimaginably tough times we have all gone through since early 2020, that I can bet on my happiness every single day, and that (to paraphrase Paul Thomas Anderson) I have a love in my life now that makes me stronger than anything I could have ever imagined.
I really do not know what my future holds right now, but today, I am choosing to believe everything is going to be okay.
