“October Game”

The Motivator

While Fred Sayeau guided me in art and introduced me to design, my childhood neighbour encouraged me to pursue post-secondary education in the field. My vocation would not have happened without my childhood friend's influence. I thanked Fred Sayeau for his influence before he passed. However, my childhood friend is alive and well; I have put this off too long. Thank you, October.

My neighbour's success is astounding. They left Halifax in their late teens to have an extraordinary global career. I always wanted to congratulate them, but neither had the in-person opportunity to do so nor did I want to be someone from the past getting in touch because of their stardom—this is what held me back.

My career once involved extensive travel from coast to coast. I had always envisioned bumping into each other in an airport’s executive lounge, a luxury hotel, or a restaurant, but it never happened. The more their career skyrocketed, the more I hesitated to reach out—and the harder it got. Although this is a thank you letter posted online, I regret not congratulating them earlier AND thanking them for their direct influence on my education and career.

Who are they? With respect, I am reluctant to say, so this letter of thanks simply refers to them as October G.

I first met OG in the early- to mid-1970s. Their family recently moved across the street from my childhood home. One day, they emerged bouncing across the street, green Sizzler skateboard—perhaps a Huffy—in hand. Leaping across the curb, they landed on the sidewalk, declaring, “Hi, I just moved in, and I want to be your friend!"

A decade and a half later, in my last year of high school, I was awarded a scholarship to Saint Mary's University due to a high-school science fair project. I accepted the awards’s financial assistance, enrolled, and took physics, calculus, computer programming, and English courses. My ultimate goal was to take the requisite mathematics course and two years of post-secondary education to apply to architecture school.

While I thoroughly enjoyed my high school art classes under Fred Sayeau's tutelage, I never considered attending art school. In hindsight, I never saw it as a possibility. My experience at SMU is to who I am today. Academically, the year was a disaster; the lessons of failure, however, were fundamental. I felt like I was at rock bottom at the time, and I had nowhere to turn. An academic failure and a socially awkward misfit with few post-secondary options, I felt lost. If my academic pursuit failed by 1987, OG’s was about to soar.

October spent time at art school before deciding on a different artistic career. In contrast, my academic life and prospects declined in the Spring/Summer of 1987. While I could return to Saint Mary's University, my previous failures and likely future academic struggles loomed. Returning was a path to adversity and defeat. When their career approached success, my academic pursuit was floundering and pointed towards failure.

Before they arrived on our street in the mid-70s, I was the street's oldest by a couple of years—October was about 11 months older than I was. Because they were two grades ahead of me—December and January birthdays—the older we got, the wider the eleven-month difference became. This was particularly evident in high school. Furthermore, they attended one high school (traditionally the Catholic school), and—by choice—I attended another across the street (Protestants and 'others').

We both worked hard to achieve success. While I often consider my early academic years a failure, I eventually managed to figure it out. I worked in Canada, the US, and abroad. I owe gratitude for the education I received at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design (NSCAD). More importantly, I am deeply grateful to the person who changed the projection of my life.

OG worked arduously hard throughout their career. From figuring out life as an adoptee to intense musical studies at the conservatory, they balanced academics, musical studies, and an appreciation and love for the fine arts.

As I said, I was either at a crossroads or on a path to academic failure. Next door to my childhood home was a curling rink, and the back end of the facility faced our street. In the summer of 1987, I bumped into OG, and we sat down to catch up. At this point, they had one, likely two years, at art school (NSCAD). They asked about me, and I recounted my aspirations and subsequent failures. They did not talk much about her life—by this point, they had a budding music career. Instead, they listened and offered advice. We spoke for 30-45 minutes.

To this day, I can recall the coolness of the concrete stoop, the matte-white colour of the building's siding, and the threat of the summer's end. OG would have been anticipating a new year at Art School. While we discussed their sideline (music), the conversation focused on art school. Moreover, they focused on me.

I knew I had few prospects, and returning to SMU would set me up for another year of failure, likely followed by who knows what. OG convinced me to send a portfolio to NSCAD instead. I applied late and was accepted. The rest is another story for a future post.

To this day, I believe that conversation with OG changed my life. Throughout my career, I have been fortunate and privileged. Sincerity and truth be told, none of this would have happened without OG's support.

I was in Vancouver recently, where they have lived for decades. Again, I hoped we'd cross paths, but knowing it was improbable. Some 30 years later, this thank you must suffice.

Thank you!