an eloquently warped point of view from the tongue of a cartoon character.

Tag: Arts

Sargent & Victor & Me

(Just a heads up, this is a post for a school assignment~ I’ll be back to my regular ramblings at some point.)

I like baths.

When I was younger, I thought that showers were kind of scary. Like I would slip and fall and break my neck or something. Instead, I opted for baths.

See? Doesn’t this look lovely?

I’d dip beneath the waterline. Pretend I was a sea monster. Imagine I was a mermaid (or any variety of sea creature, really). I’d picture myself in a mighty ocean, a storm above; a calm below.

Baths have always been peaceful for me. They had a way of evenly spreading problems through water, letting them dissipate into steam and suds.

So when I went to see Sargent & Victor & Me this week, one line really stuck with me, “I just wanted to get in the bath and dissolve.”

Sargent & Victor & Me was a one woman play set in Winnipeg around the streets (spoiler alert) Sargent and Victor. The whole thing was beautifully written and performed by Debbie Patterson, a very talented actress who uses her coming to terms with multiple sclerosis as a pillar for the play.

What worked best in the play was the detail that Patterson went into. After the performance, she talked about her interview process, and why the characters were written the way they were.

“90% of what they say is what they said in our interviews,” said Patterson. “10% is manufactured”: and that detail kind of blew my mind.

The fact that she took so much time to transcribe hours and hours of interviews with real people (“Down to their sniffs and breaths”, in Theresa’s instance), and then MEMORIZE those interviews, was mind boggling. As Marc Lagace said in my journalism class, it was kind of like watching a documentary, but it was live.

Plus, it’s super cool at the end when you actually hear overlapping tracks of the interviews, and can pick out certain lines from the play.

As for what didn’t work? Well, it bugged me that almost each and every character was a cliche.

Bob, the gruff, yet lovable, brother of the main character who hates cops and talks like a semi-raspy frat boy. Pastor Giles Mitchell, the wise and kind old man who loves helping people in need, and all of God’s children equally. Theresa (arguably the strongest voice), the tough-as-nails, Aboriginal gang-member whose had nothing but a horrible life.

The stereotypes began to wear on me after a while, and I found myself almost waiting for a racist old woman and then BAM: there she was in the form of Sharon Good.

I’m a huge musical junkie. I’ve seen everything from Chicago, to A Chorus Line, to Legally Blonde: The Musical, on Broadway. I’ve played

Inspector Javert from Les Misérables, Old Deuteronomy from Cats, and was in every single production I could be during my Balmoral Hall years.

Although Sargent & Victor & Me was not a musical, both are similar, live-action stage shows (minus some singing). The slight dancing she did during those newscasts might be considered something sort of musical-esque.

Musicals are typically big, melodramatic productions that seamlessly intertwine beautiful music with intense, emotional acting. That kind of happened during Sargent & Victor & Me whenever music was involved.

The play kind of gave me a different perspective on the West End of the city. Though their personas were mostly acted as cliches, the voices of that neighbourhood really did stand out to me. Their words made me think about serious struggles people have in Winnipeg.

Although I do not have multiple sclerosis or know anyone who has suffered from it, Patterson took a horrible affliction, and channeled it into art that served as a powerful metaphor for the deterioration of the West End.

Powerhouse Princess


“There is nothing more rare, nor more beautiful, than a woman being unapologetically herself; comfortable in her perfect imperfection. To me, that is the true essence of beauty.” ― Steve Maraboli

When I wear my 5.25″ Jeffrey Campbell Lita‘s, I’m around 6 feet tall.

When Jess wears a shoe that’s 5.25″, she’s 5’3″.

She may be small, but Jessica K. is a force to be reckoned with (clichéééééé).
The 21-year-old University of W. student studies business, and speaks strongly for women’s rights. She is an avid horror movie enthusiast, makeup lover, and insists that she’s team Star Trek and team Star Wars. Jess is a passionate, well-spoken feminist, who believes in body-modification and the right to wear whatever the hell you want.


Pictured: Queen of Cute Body Modifications.

Body positivity to me is body acceptance, and not just your own. Being able to accept that not only are bodies beautiful, but that they’re all different. Once you can accept and appreciate that, rather than focusing on minor insecurities with yourself, body positivity is innate. Body positivity is promoting and encouraging other women, and men, to have a healthy outlook on themselves.

Our generation has grown up in a society (that includes the media, politics, and our peers), that as women, our bodies and our beauty is one of the most important aspects of our entire lives. A beautiful body has changed rapidly from being curvaceous and full bodied, to skinny and toned. Body positivity isn’t telling your friend, “Don’t worry if you’re boobs are small- some guys like that too!”, it’s telling her that if she’s happy with her body, you support her 100%. If she’s not happy with her body, you should be a crutch, and support her with her choices.

I don’t think that any one person is permanently confident. My confidence levels change on a day to day basis; it’s not always pertaining to my appearance.

When it comes to how I look, my confidence comes from how I treat myself. When I’m working out, I feel amazing, my body feels amazing, and it’s really an indescribable feeling to be content and actually happy with who you are. But to contest that, my intellectual property is also really important to me. Having a full course load of studies, and getting grades better than I thought I would, is something that makes me feel better than feeling pretty. I try to stay confident by always trying to better myself.

Confidence also comes from make-up. I don’t think it makes me prettier, I don’t wear it because I’m insecure, but I know how to do a mean winged liner, and when I’m rocking it, I feel sexy and confident. Even though my demeanour is at a whopping 4’11”, I feel like I can see over everyone else.

My favourite physical features are my nipples. I have them both pierced and tattooed. They’re by far my favourite attribute. They’re hidden, and no one knows they’re there; they’re my little secret. I’m not a quiet, submissive, passive woman; I’m outspoken (and polite), but I love that my nipples are a piece of me that are just for me (and my awesome boyfriend).

I wouldn’t say that my modifications have boosted my confidence too much. But, I’ve taken pieces of my body that I wasn’t necessarily in love with, (but could not change unless I had surgery) and tattooed, pierced, and changed them. They became pieces of me that I love more than anything. They became pieces of me I love to flaunt- and it does make me feel better to show them off.
I also have my tattoos and piercings that cannot be seen unless I show you. I like having a bit of secrecy and control of how I am perceived.”

Please, please, please do research to find the right artist! Never settle on the picture if it’s not exactly what you had in mind, and don’t be nervous about regretting it! I have never gotten a tattoo that has any meaning to me, because if they have no meaning, they can have no regret. I loved the art that’s on my body before it was tattooed on me.
My advice would just be to make sure it’s what you want. Don’t let your friends change your mind. Listen to any feedback your artist has- it’s their job, not yours.

This is how this body-modified powerhouse stays body positive.