Image of a gold crescent moon in a black sky with a few stars above a set of stairs. Title is Rising Moon Writing Program

Nightwood Theatre’s Rising Moon Program encourages brave explorations in creativity by providing weekly prompts and tools for various approaches in writing. With the focus on play rather than final product, this intimate digital collective will take steps toward finding their voice and building a creative community among young people. The program is open to individuals aged 16 to 19 who are comfortable in an environment that centres the experience of womanhood (including but not limited to, trans, cis, Two Spirit and gender diverse folks). This program is being offered for folks in the GTA for free or by donation.

Program runs 6 weeks – February 1 – March 8, 2022

Tuesdays, 4:30 – 6 pm ET. Meetings take place online over Zoom.

Deadline to apply: January 17, 2022, 5pm ET. 

Applicants will be notified regarding admission by January 20, 2022.

If you have any questions regarding applying, if you require assistance in completing this application or you would prefer to apply using an alternate format (ie. over the phone, video, or anything else), please contact Amanda Lin at amanda@nightwoodtheatre.net.

ABOUT THE RISING MOON PROGRAM LEADERS

Amanda Lin 林美智 (she/her) is an emerging Taiwanese-Canadian theatre artist who specializes in writing, performance, direction, and arts administration. She is a recent(ish) graduate of Queen’s University, where she studied social psychology, theatre, and business, with her area of research centring on attitudes and social influence. She is particularly interested in cultivating spaces of care and connection within theatre, and providing a platform for underrepresented people and stories. Amanda is an alumni of Nightwood Theatre’s Young Innovators Program and fu-GEN Asian-Canadian Theatre’s Kitchen Playwriting unit. She has also worked with companies such as Why Not Theatre, the Paprika Festival, Ergo Arts Theatre, Single Thread Theatre Company, the Kick and Push Festival, Thousand Islands Playhouse, and Young People’s Theatre. She currently works at Nightwood Theatre as their Development & Engagement Associate, Cahoots Theatre as their Development Coordinator, and the Kingston Theatre Alliance as their Blog Editor. Visit Amanda online at www.amandamlin.com.

Taylor Trowbridge (she/her) is an actor, emerging playwright, educator and arts administrator. As an actor, she has performed in productions for theatre companies such as Canadian Stage, The Shaw Festival, Nightwood Theatre, Bard on the Beach, Thousand Islands Playhouse and SummerWorks Festival. She holds an MFA in Acting from York University and her thesis work explored discovering greater artistic freedom through a practice of playful personal discipline. As an educator, Taylor’s focus is on connecting students to their inner-worth and interconnectivity, their sense of daring and vulnerability. With her work an arts administrator, her mission is to communicate from a place of community-building rather than commerce, and some of her projects with Nightwood Theatre include the Nightwood Innovators Program (which she co-leads with Amanda Lin) and the Social Distancing Care Packages.

Rising Moon Participant writing

Rising Moon creates a brave space for participants to share their writing, their hearts and their minds. Below are writing samples that the participants have chosen to share publicly. We applaud these courageous writers and their ability to explore the topics they are most drawn to exploring.

Chapter 2022: Citizens Of The World – Let Peace Begin by  Y.A.M.A

01/03/2022

If you want a reason to kill, then ask the agents of peace. Well, they say that all you have to do is summon the spirit of peace. But when did peace, the presence of conflicts with the absence of violence ever become a great reason to kill? What is peace if it’s acquired through the means of violence? But I guess now the means justify the end and that is what they call peace. A territorial commodity won through violence. And yet, I firmly believe that war and victory in the same sentence is an oxymoron in all its sense. If not then peace has lost all its meaning. So what is peace other than the product of Capitalism? Is peace a manufactured Utopia? I’m asking you, what is peace if the power that a nation holds is more important than the lives lost in battle? Why burn with fire, what can be solved with water? All I know is that peace will be found when the value of life is freed from the love of power, often held by Atlas. For now I could only imagine what peace is. Then tell me what do you or can you imagine, when the symphony of peace strokes your fawning ears? Most importantly, know that whatever you imagine is not merely a dream, as it will lead the way for humanity. With only more questions that arise and are dying to be answered by our generation and the next through change. In the end, I can’t help but hope that I will only rest in peace when change is known to and by all that stand or fall.

Sincerely,

 Y.A.M.A

What If? by Megan De Sousa

In the high school’s guidance counsellor office, M stands lifelessly in front of Julian.

M: No, I’m not going to accept your apology. (Beat)

What? Take that god awful look off of your face. Did you expect me to forgive you? Did you think I was going to come in here and gather you in my arms and whisper into your ear how much I miss our spontaneous midnight calls? Why do you deserve satisfaction? (Beat)

You could have ruined my life and don’t you dare say I ruined yours because you got suspended for posting that video. You’re too brainless to go to university or college and even if you were considering it, now you get to ask yourself: was it worth it? (Beat)

You destroyed me, I mean look at me. I’m unstable and it’s all because of you. When I abandoned my integrity and texted you, I asked if you posted that video of me, you told me I was erratic. That I was delusional. And now that I know what you’ve done, now that me and everyone I know has seen that video–. (Beat)

I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. Every time I spray on that vanilla perfume, all I smell is the tequila on your breath. Every time I touch the striped nylon fabric of that dress, my favourite dress, the one my mom picked out for me from Forever 21, I can feel you and it’s like you’re taking advantage of me again and again again AGAIN! And I don’t even remember getting violated, Julian. I had to see it through a fucking video that you recorded and posted everywhere. You shattered me and I am incapable of collecting the shards of myself. (Beat)

I can’t escape the memory of when on one of those late night phone calls, when we were hidden under the safety of our covers, your once-sweet voice asked what my parents taught me growing up; I mentioned to you that my father advised me to never be vulnerable. Well, you got me, I slipped up. Yet, I’m still troubled with why? You held me and promised you’d never let me suffer and yet you were the one who slid your fingers in my—. (Beat)

You’re the one who wanted to clear your name, so give me a reason to forgive you. Give me a reason to say “Oh Julian, I completely misunderstood what happened that night”. I want to understand, I need to understand, make me understand! (Beat)

But you don’t have a reason, do you? And so I won’t forgive you and that’s the one shred of dignity I will hold onto.

Jealousy Is About Sadness by Visaree Bradshaw-Coore

Dripping globs from my strNGLED JAW
Suck it down It can’t spill out
That’s not who I am
But my heart and her wretched corner I thought I pried and expelled has this molasses spewing from my centre
Stinging tears unshed twhack 
All I can feel is the cavity it has given me
And Oh how it stings to see your denial fester and move on
A vehement coming to terms thrusted by divine intervention

I loved her



A note to the two students in Ukraine that Scarlett has tutored online

For Elizabeth, Vika. 

Dear friends; close, close friends,

I know so much about you both; what makes you laugh, your goals, why you are who you are. Yet I don’t even know how tall you are. But it’s not your height that puzzles me. Maybe one day we will get to meet. The clothes you wear and the bags you carry, I do not wonder, as much as I do your safety: are you? Scared is one, danger is another. They can go together but when we email, is scared just the easiest way to reply to my questions, or are the noises of the bombs that are destroying parts of your identities and homes the reason for this word? Please be honest. 

Because it has been a year. A year since when? A year since I met both of you. I thought I was going to be the teacher. It was going to be strictly e, a, i, o, u… “y” did we become friends? We were supposed to stick to the curriculum. But we didn’t. I learnt about you and you learnt about me. I used to say “Homework for next week is…” and now the caption of our emails read “Just checking in”. 

Dear friends; close, close friends, 

I think of you both, I think of your country, and I think of your smiles. But I don’t wish you the best because that would be ignoring your pain, and struggles that you are allowed to feel. 

Dear friends; close, yet now distant, friends,

I thank you both for what you have taught me. I thank you and I think about you both. A. Lot. 

 

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