When I first met Jessica Hinkson, I was terrified of her. It was not only her extreme beauty that humbled me, but her self-possession, her strength of character and that unwavering, piercing gaze. Once the terror subsided, love quickly took its place.
Jessica has one of the truest hearts I've encountered. Fearlessly honest - both with herself and others - she is also deeply sensitive to the world around her and the people she loves. This persistent sensitivity and fearlessness are what I believe have guided Jess on her journey through artistry. She is an actress, one who has just begun to discover her power as an independent producer of her own work, and as her friend, I am very excited to see where she will go from here. Tomorrow night, at the
AWOL Gallery in Toronto, she will be screening her first short film called
I Am, which she produced with Toronto-based
Ardent Pictures.
I'm extremely proud of Jessica for embarking on this incredible adventure, for doing it on her own and not listening to the powers that be. I wanted to share this beautiful piece she wrote about the struggles and triumphs of becoming an artist - whatever your chosen medium may be - since it goes right to the heart of creative passion. As you will discover through her words, the creative journey is often what shapes the outcome.
BECOMING AN ARTIST - MAKING IT WORK
In 1997 I had just returned home to
Vancouver from living in Los Angeles. I had moved down to LA to pursue a career
in dancing. I wanted to be a Bob Fosse dancer. I wanted to be on stage under
those bright lights every night. I wanted to tour with the greats whether it be
Prince or Janet Jackson. Growing up, I would see as many concerts as I could. I
was obsessed with what made shows magical, and I very much wanted to be a part
of it. Moving to LA was not what I thought it would be. It was a big awakening
in many ways that I was not yet ready for.
Looking back at my choice to move to LA at
the age of seventeen, I have no regrets. I do wish that I would have understood
how young seventeen was. I do wish that I would have known that it was okay at
the end of the year when I moved home and quit, that I wasn’t a failure.
However, this realization wouldn’t come until years later. I was eighteen, back
in Vancouver, raw and terrified because I had no idea what or who I wanted to
become. I felt alone more than ever and wanted so badly to belong to something,
to fit in somewhere.
I was working at a modeling agency. They
had this acting teacher who would come in to coach the models. From the moment
I met him he was insistent that I was an actress and that I should work with
him. I was terrified at the idea of this. Although throughout my entire
adolescent self I had secretly been my version of Punky Brewster, Molly
Ringwald, and Cyndi Lauper. Not to mention Baby from Dirty Dancing – I
choreographed the entire film on a nightly basis in my basement. I had also
envisioned myself as one of the leads in Fame. Each time, I performed my
monologues: Oscar winning for sure. One
time in a moment of artistic expression, I pushed my brother into the pool in
the middle of a prairie winter and screamed frantically to get my mother’s
attention, asking for help, and that he needed to be saved. I should have known
then that improvisation was and is one of my strongest abilities. Needless to
say, my mother did ground me, even though I protested I had nothing to do with
making Josh go in to the pool. I was simply trying to save him.
Coming back to present day: the realization
that someone was actually giving me permission to become what I had always
envisioned myself to be was terrifying. I was sure that I wouldn’t fit in. That
people would think that I was weird, so why bother. Every week, that acting
teacher would try to convince me. Finally, one day he said he would give me
coaching for free. He just wanted me to try it, and if I didn’t like it he
would never bother me again. I agreed to it. We did meet, and I ended up
working with him for two hours that day. I felt so alive. I felt free. For the
first time in my life, I felt like I belonged. I signed up for acting classes
shortly thereafter. After a few sessions, I decided that I should go to Theatre
School in New York City. I went to NYC and auditioned at a few schools. I did
get in and attended The Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre that Fall
of 1999. I loved living in New York. Every medium of art was available to me,
to anyone at all times. I started dancing again, I began practicing yoga; I was
an artist. After the playhouse I went over to work with Terry Schreiber who is
not only a magnificent human being, an extraordinary teacher.
I moved from NYC
back to Vancouver in the early 2000’s. I was passionate; I was bold, and ready
to take on my acting career. I booked my first play, got an agent, and
co-produced a series of David Ives plays. For years after I would produce more
shows, I would study twice a week. I lived and breathed my art. At a certain
point my biggest fear started to become a reality. I started getting feedback
that the industry didn’t know what to do with me. I was told that I didn’t fit
in, and that they couldn’t categorize me. I became frustrated and so I left
Vancouver in 2006 and came to Toronto. I have now lived in Toronto for six
years. Toronto has been rewarding and it has been extremely challenging at
times. I have realized that there is no point in trying to run from who you
are. I haven’t fooled anyone. Casting directors and producers still don’t think
that I fit in. They still tell me that they don’t know what to do with me; that
I’m not mainstream. The difference between then and now is, I think, so what. Most people don’t fit in.
Most people go through the ups and downs of trying to figure out where they
belong. It’s called personal development. It’s called growing up. It’s called
being human.
I know what to do with me. I know what it
is that I have to offer as a human being not to mention as an artist. My career
has not gone the way that I had planned for it to go, and I may as well get in
line with thousands of other people because there are about that many and more
who would say the same of themselves. I’ve just decided to do something about
it. Back In April 2012 when I was in Vancouver, BC celebrating my grandparents’
60th wedding anniversary, I was reading Patti Smith’s, ‘Just Kids.’
Not only was I unbelievably inspired and moved, I realized how lazy I had
become as an artist. I asked myself a few questions. What happened to doing
something creative every day? What happened to doing something for my art
every day? I used to do that.
I had been entertaining the idea of writing
a short film, but thinking and doing, are two very different things. This past
Summer I wrote/produced and am in my first film titled, I Am. It was made in
association with Ardent Pictures. I’m
not doing anything different than anybody else at this point. Most artists are
making their own body of work, but it’s how one makes their own work that
counts. It is staying connected to what inspires you. Your career is what you
make it.
A toast to Miss Patti Smith and to every
artist out there. Be bold. Conquer. Protect yourself, for your art is a pure
expression of you, of your soul, which is sacred.
“In art and dream may you proceed with
abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth. For nothing is more
precious than the life force and may the love of that force guide you as you
go.”
― Patti Smith
Peace Art
Warriors.
Jessica
Hinkson
Common
Burn. Five artists. One night. Our Common Burn is ART. An evening of
photography, film, and paintings.
Thursday January, 24th at The AWOL Gallery.
Jessica Hinkson is a yoga teacher, actress, and writer in Toronto. She has a blog called
From Yoga To High Heels. It is a blog about life, peace, and yoga.
