A Storyteller’s “Hero’s Journey”
Ending in the Literal “Places You Will Go” Not Covered in Picture Books & the Stories I Now Tell to the Audience I Did Not Expect
My name is Regan. Though at times I have been known otherwise:
Miss Gramlich (the teacher), Mrs. Macdonald (the Librarian), and Sprinkles (the Children’s Performer).
To hear my parents tell it, I was a natural storyteller (read: Centre of Attention seeking) who could recount over 9-hours what happened in a 6-hour school day.
And though the family snickered behind my back (and to my face) this quirk or character trait has fared me well in my travels through life and my career path. Though in all honesty, like most “Epics” (or Hero’s Journey) the through line was not clear to me until I had the opportunity to reflect backward on my story.
Today I have had the immense pleasure of turning these skills, experiences, setbacks, and successes into a life that I love, am proud of and receive tremendous joy by sharing with others. Because no matter how high we soar or how far down the scale we fall, we see how those stories are of benefit to others.
So this is my story. The story of a girl who tells stories for others. And like many stories I will not necessarily tell it in order, because I needed the end to understand the central conflict and crisis.
It makes sense – eventually, I promise. Though out-of-order stories are a really popular way to both read & write! lol
Today (c. 2022)
After pursuing a B.Education (Secondary), experience working in a variety of schools and with various ages (from Gr. 7- Adult Ed.), a decade as a Librarian in a K-Gr. 12 school, and experience traveling across the continent as an entertainer and artist, I arrived back at my hometown in Rural Alberta.
It was here I made a decision. I had to do less. I needed to offer what I had and not what I assumed was required. And I had to figure out who I was after 25 years of playing roles – on and off stage.
Becoming Sprinkles (c. 1999)
So, my story begins with me running away and joining the carnival –
While in my 4th year of studying Literature & Drama, I was approached by the owner of a Special Events/Entertainment company in Edmonton, looking for someone to join their team for the very “overbooked” Christmas/New Year’s Eve Season 1999-2000
(hmm…can’t remember why this year was so special, but there must have been a reason lol).
I spent the next 3 years traveling across North America, entertaining and painting. The stories one can accumulate during a time like this – the right people, the right places, the right ages and the right period in history. The stars aligned.
I was known as “Sprinkles”
We traveled. Manitoba. Back to Edmonton. Klondyke Days (now K-Days). The Calgary Stampede. I painted the face of the man I would eventually marry and have a family with. I painted for the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto, The Sheraton on Bourbon St. and Harry Connick Jr. during Mardi Gras 2000. I painted for the Edmonton Oilers and I painted for Molson Canadian.
And while I was working in Regina, Saskatchewan, on my 22nd birthday, the Regina Herald-Leader did a human interest piece on people who worked for the Carnival, and through which I made the front cover and became known by my second work name; “the Girl with Hair the Colour of Wheat.”
Life (2008-2018)
A lot can be said about a life lived in between. But my words, as with many things, always seem as if one is too many and a thousand is never enough.
Following the birth of my second child, my world changed. Things got darker and sleep eluded me. I was working/volunteering/parenting for days on end and could not stop. The carnival of my life was no longer me adding color and joy one face at a time and instead, was me alone, trapped on a ferris wheel I could not get off of. And it felt like it just kept speeding up.
And emotionally alone and unable, unsure and unwilling to ask for help with something I couldn’t understand or want to admit was becoming a larger issue than I was ready to accept. I spiraled into a postpartum, depression and mania that I medicated in the exact way that #trending and #winemoms online taught me to. Self medicating became a coping skill, and then a crutch, and now is a permanent and undeniable part of my story. No amount of time or recovery will change that. But I speak candidly and openly about what it was like, what happened and where I am now. And I am told my story has helped people. Moreso so than my days doing “storytime” in the library I loved so very much. Life has a funny way of writing endings.
I spend much time talking about those years these days in the hope that my story can be of use to someone else. Or if not useful, just helpful in establishing myself as someone who understands and has “walked the walk.”
For someone who had structured her life around teaching and storytelling, it never occurred to me that the story I would be telling would be my own or that the lessons derived from that would be the breadcrumbs that would help others find a way out.
https://twitter.com/blondrwandrlust/status/1604600126726877184?s=46&t=L5YlwXHHQGdX5PDqB32Zsg
Some of you might be now doing a mental call back to by Twitter Story “Friday Night Support Group”
The truth is this life is pretty great today. The laughter far outweighs the tears and the sense of purpose and usefulness overshadows the emptiness that preceded it.
Recovery is definitely not for everyone, but not everybody needs it.
Blue Eyed Daisy Airbrush Design (c. 2018)
IG: @blueeyeddaisyairbrush
FB: Blue Eyed Daisy Airbrush
Twitter: @design_blueeyed
Educator, storyteller, entertainer, airbrush body painter, professional organizer & event planner — Regan has always been at the head of the class!
A graduate of UofA (‘99) with a B.Ed (Distinction) in Literature and Theatre, and an experienced teacher and librarian, Regan loves to merge Education & Entertainment.
Specializing in Airbrush Body Art, Regan has received accolades ranging from New Orleans party-goers, prairie preschoolers and community and corporate groups including Norwood Community Centre, Harry Connick Jr., Molson Canadian and the Edmonton Oilers alike.
In addition to holding a Bachelor of Education in English and Theatre, Regan has done graduate studies at the Universidad de Sonora, MX on Arts as a Means of Inclusive Education, is a registered member of the Canadian Association of Face and Body Artists, and is insured.
In 2018 I made a decision. My days in the classroom were behind me and I had immersed myself in recovery work – my own and working with others. But I knew I still had things to do. I have held unpaid positions at the local and provincial level and worked with professionals in the community doing what I always do – telling my story. But I knew I was ready to do more. I wanted to know the feeling of purpose and usefulness again. I felt joy and gratitude. And I want to live my life that way, and it was clear what I needed to do.
Blue Eyed Daisy Airbrush & Design emerged from the cocoon that had held it in stewardship so long.
Slowly, things took shape & came together
(although opening a business dependant on special events, community gatherings, parties & festivals provided to be a really terrible idea during a Pandemic)
TikTok “Small Town Girl” Promo
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMFt2B7HY/
Today I tell stories again, but this time abbreviated ones, using paint and air (with a dusting of sparkles).
Art (and therefore stories) can be shared in numerable combinations. While someone is in my chair, the story includes what we say to one another, the images I paint on their skin, their facial expression and physical gestures as they react – the eyes! oh my goodness, the eyes!!! – and the reaction of the people around them who see the image. Together it creates a symphony that lasts only minutes.
The smiles and squeals are (like the paint itself) only temporary, but the high I get from the 2-3 seconds it takes for them to register what they are seeing is beyond anything comparable. And though within a day it is washed off with soap and water, the indelible imprint someone carries with them for the rest of their life in the memory of a special event with friends or family (through thoughts and memories, shared family stories, photo albums and digital screensavers) brings me sublime happiness and indescribable humbleness.
Sometimes the whole story is conveyed in one picture because it relies on a shared cultural or social mythology or history.
Sometimes it takes two images, and the story is less a shared folk tale and more of an understood emotion. The universal fluency of body language and facial expressions. (In this case, the difference of the 2 seconds between me finishing the shark and her seeing herself in the mirror. Sheer Joy. That is understood in any language).
Sometimes it takes a couple pics.
And a cute caption to tie it all together never hurts!!
Sometimes we all know the story but continue to be thrilled with how it ends.
I’ve been a storyteller my whole life
But that’s not where my Hero’s Journey was to end. And I do call it a “Hero’s Journey” – I do not think I am a hero, and recognize that what got me this far was the humility to listen to others, ask for help and be willing to surrender. But the central character is always the hero of their own story which concludes with a recognition that, somewhere in the journey, a lesson was leaned or a moral was unearthed that required the protagonist to experience the struggle to uncover. I did just that. And now I tell my story so others on the journey – or lost in the labyrinth – trust that there is a way out, and others before them have succeeded.
I’ve had a successful career that I absolutely loved. I started as a classroom teacher and was offered the amazing opportunity to become a Teacher-Librarian. My heart was full. I made a living teaching stories written by others and reading books written and illustrated by some of history’s best storytellers.
But the Universe had different plans and my life tilted on an axis no one believes will happen to them. To others, of course, but someone always two degrees removed.
Never your daughter. Sister. Wife. Mother. Never you.
Until you realize you are not special. You are human. And asking for help and being honest is ok too. If you are brave enough to admit you are scared.
And then there really are only two possible endings. The true “jumping off point.” I made my choice.
I will “live my life as it’s meant to be. I’ll find strength in pain. And I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again” ~Mumford & Sons
I’ve been known by my many names. Lots of times today it is just Regan M.
And the rest of the time I create a temporary world of color and sparkles and magic that becomes a part of someone else’s permanent memory. Their story. I only hope it is always a positive one.
And that girl with hair the colour of wheat? I’m not sure that she resides inside me anymore.
In fact I’m quite certain she does not. I believe she passed right through me on her way to becoming something greater than I ever could. I believe that with my whole heart because I see her every day writing her own story.
My favorite stories always come full circle.
EXSM 3989 - Digital Storytelling Class Blog 