An Open Letter and Apology to the Academie Duello Community

I’m writing this because I’ve lost control of my anger over the last few months during my training. Because that loss of control has made a number of people unsafe, and feel unsafe in the space.

I’m writing this because I’m accountable for my actions.  I’m not just accountable to Devon as my director, I’m not just accountable to Clint as the head instructor, I think that I’m accountable to the school at large; to the greater community.

If you’re reading this, you’re likely a part of that community.

It’s my belief that the best way to move forward is with honesty and transparency.

***

TL;DR - Aaron has issues with anger management. Those issues have been affecting students that he trains with and teaches. Aaron seeks to atone for his actions.  Talk to Aaron, Devon, or Clinton to learn more.

***

At various points in my life, I’ve come close to hitting the bottom.  And I’ve always been lucky enough to have people to talk to, and a place to go.  After moving to Vancouver a number of years ago, Duello has become that place I go.

A few people have asked me about Duello and what it means to me, and I tell them that it is my temple.  It is where I go to feel good about myself; where I go to find people with similar ideas about what it means to be a good person.

Recently, my actions have led it to be less than safe.  There are people who aren’t safe and comfortable in the space because of my actions.  Who aren’t safe and comfortable training with me or being taught by me.

It tears me apart that this is where my training and failure to manage my anger has led me.  It saddens me beyond words that I’ve caused people to stop walking this path that has led me to so much growth, happiness, and peace.

So how do I fix it?

***

Bruce Lee said that mastery of martial arts is really just mastery of self.

And reflection has led me to see that I’ve stopped trying to pursue this mastery. That through my own thoughtless action, I’ve been letting my anger manage me, and not the other way around.

My own path forward begins with this:

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t actively put the safety and experience of my fellow students at the fore of my practice.  I’m sorry that I’ve acted in a way that communicates a lack of control and safety.

But talk is cheap.  So what can I promise?

I can promise that I’m answerable to Academie Duello’s administrative team, and that they are taking active steps to address this. If you are interested in those steps, you can contact Devon or Clint and they will answer those questions for you.

I can promise that I’m setting up my own personal accountability structures. And that I'm actively practicing my own anger management exercises and working through an anger management workbook from a well regarded local anger management counselor, Alistair Moes.  If you’re interested in what I’m doing, or feel a desire to help in some small way, you can contact me and ask such questions as you feel are necessary.

Lastly, and this is something that I’ve been worried about within the school for some time: If you see things, people, or practices that make you uncomfortable or that you think are a concern, no issue is too large or small.  There’s a lot that I don’t see as part of my own inward reflection, and things that the senior instructors may not have eyes on. We as staff and instructors are here to facilitate swordplay, martial practice, and personal growth, and that can’t be done if the space feels unsafe.

***

I’d like to close out by offering a very sincere thanks to the wonderful people and staff of Duello. I’ve been told that there are people who have asked “How can I help Aaron with this?” after I’ve had an outburst.  I’ve had people who have also offered to help me with my own personal accountability structures.

It’s enormously humbling that I have so many people who care about me, and are good enough people to try and help me with a demon that I’ve struggled with for my whole life.

I’m going to do better.

Thank you for reading.

Glittering Eyes and Nylon Swords

Two weeks between posts.  I'm getting better.  It's not a year long affair.


One of my main sources of billable hours within Duello is teaching birthday parties.  Kids aged 8-14 come in, they get an hour lesson in longsword (usually), we salute out, get pictures, and then the hosts sugar up a dozen children and loose them upon their parents.

People ask me "How do you teach kids?  It must be nightmarish."  Not at all.  When I'm teaching kids, there is a social contract in place where if the kids want to learn from me, they are keenly aware that I'm allowed to say "You.  You're being a jerk.  Stop being a jerk and gimme ten push-ups."  More than that, THEY DO THE PUSH-UPS.  When I realized I had push-up authority over my students, my job became infinitely easy.  

Well, the parts of my job related to keeping order in my class.  Seriously, I don't know how my homeroom teachers did it in elementary school.  A friend once asked me to babysit his son while he took the wife out for dinner and a show, and I jumped to accept because they're good people.  But on the way over, I thought to myself Oh no, I probably can't give this kid push-ups if he's gonna be disagreeable.  Now, to my great surprise, the boy was a delight, but I was definitely sweating on the way there.  

But I digress.

I love teaching these parties.  This is exactly what I would have wanted when I was a kid.  I tell the people I train with about them, and about knight camp and usually hear "Man, I wish I had something like that when I was a kid."  I know all about it.  I love seeing the unfiltered joy that comes across some of those little faces when they pick their swords up for the first time.  A select few ask about getting to hold the sharp museum swords, and if their folks are okay with it, they all get the chance.  The look on a kid's face when the gravity of holding a real sharp sword after they've been taught to respect it is wondrous.

Not much more to it then that.  I get to be part of a kid's special day a few times each month.  Life is good.

Instructor Intensive

I had the distinct pleasure of taking part in Academie Duello's first Instructor Intensive last week from October 26-30.  In brief, it was fantastic, and I can't recommend it strongly enough.  Seriously, it gave me material for my own fencing, and a great deal to think about as an instructor.

Where to begin, though?  Perhaps with the structure.

The days started at 08:00 with warm up and grappling for 30 minutes, and rapier for three (yes, holy shit, three (3)) hours.  A half hour break comes at 11:30, and then class resumes at noon with another half hour of grappling, and an afternoon of longsword training for another three hours.  Following yet another half hour break, there was a two hour methodology section where we learned about the nuts and bolts aspects of teaching, training, philosophy, and knowledge retention.

It was an infinitely wonderful experience for me, because I've spent this year away from training.  In large part, due to my job as a security professional.  Ten hours a day is a holy-mother-of-god lot of training, but it has been immensely useful for me.

First, for my own training, it gave me a deep and thourough examination of all of my basics.  It's not enough to know the shape of the guard, but also it's utility and context.  What are the core movements?  Why are you making them?  That shape is wrong, here's not only the specific fix, but how to make it stick, and how to recognise it.  Want a good reason to do the thing beyond "the Maestro said so"?  Here's several corroborating sources from a variety of manuscripts, all combining to form a single cohesive set of martial principles.  Got it?

Holy cats, I get it now.

I have a much deeper understanding of my core mechanics now.  My findings were too big, and I lost my gainings all the time.  I didn't just see my mistake, I finally had a full contextual  understanding of why it was wrong.  Now, I find my opponent's weapon a palmo down the blade (as Capofero advocates) and gain at the point of my crossing (as Fabris advocates) and HEY IT ALL WORKS RELIABLY AND WELL NOW.  That was probably my biggest fencing lightbulb for the week, but rest assured, there are many others.

I don't want to give away any of the knowledge without Devon's express permission, so I'll just have to say that the methodology section was singularly enlightening for how I plan to structure my lessons.

The instruction from the teachers is top notch, Devon and Clint deliver their content cleanly, effectively, and most importantly, animatedly at all times.  Their engagement with the material and the students is superb, and I recommend the course to anyone that's looking to deepen their understanding of fencing at all of it's levels.

I'm inspired as hell, and I'm just now realising how desperately hungry I am to get back to my training.  It's been a long year, and now the story can pick back up again.

Thanks for reading, and stick em with the pointy end.

A Happy Ending; A New Beginning

I am returned after a very long hiatus.  Content to come once a week at a minimum; perhaps more.  Stay tuned for more excitement.

Coach/Instructor/Teacher/Maestro

This is a post that was supposed to go live a few months ago, but was forgotten in the rush of my return from the trip.

I'm in Kamloops for NCCP training as I write this.  The day was long.  So long that it started not on Saturday morning, but on Friday night.  I caught a nap before going into work, busted my hump on the job, got home, showered, and then I was in the car picking up one of the youngest apprentices of the bunch.  At 3:30 in the goddamn morning.

The drive was uneventful; the roads were clear, and traffic was minimal.  We made good time to Kamloops.

Holy god, Kamloops.

What a gorgeous city.

This city is 9 parts in ten gorgeous vistas and hills that say "Explore meeeeeeee".  The other part is inexplicably difficult to navigate.  This town is laid out at least as confusingly as Thompson, Manitoba.  There are streets on a grid in the small downtown, which occupies about 5% of the city.  The rest?  WINDY TWISTY ROADS THAT LEND THEMSELVES POORLY TO MAP READING WHEN YOU HAVE BEEN UP FOR 16 HOURS ALREADY WORKING AND DRIVING.  My abilities at puzzling out a map on a minimum of sleep aside, I have nothing but nice things to say about the city.  Specifically about the vistas.  They are stunning.  This city just begs and pleads for you to go on Sunday drives.

Anyways, to business.

Sterling and I were the first to arrive at the clinic.  A brief introduction to Ron and we were set to work immediately by placing tables around the room's lonely projector screen.  After some coffee and doughnuts, we took our seats, and I personally learned nothing about coaching and the mechanics of shooting, but more about ethical decision making and the ethical and legal ramifications of my decisions as a coach.  All told- ultra dry material.

But it's another step on the road to legitimacy, if not mastery.

VISS Thoughts: Workshops and Self Abuse

Things that I apparently do: write posts and forget to hit "publish"

It's the day after the Vancouver International Swordplay Symposium.  My body aches, my mind is wiped, and I, lacking the sense that God gave a goose, went to another class that was chock full of high intensity training and then shuffled out to meet a friend for drinks after.  Before VISS, I spent three days training hard in preparation for my blue cord exam.  And during VISS I fenced and stretched my mind all day, worked all night for two nights, and on the last day, spent all of my energy in grand fashion during the after party and free fencing.

What I lack in sense, I make up for with my hunger for knowledge.

1 for 30

Devon has been running an event this month called the 30 for 30 swordplay challenge. The premise is simple, do 30 minutes a day reach day in June. Have I been doing it? A little. Have I kept track of it? Not even a little bit.

No tone like the present though, right?

Days 1-4 (actually day 17)
-two hours with Randy working on overall fitness and le canne

Days 5-10 (actually day 18)
-1 hour spent learning the introduction to Marozzo's first assault
-2 hours in class working on wrestling, rapier drills, and learning part one of the first assault

Days 11-18 (actually day 19)
-30 minutes practicing the introduction and part one of the forest assault; learning part 2
- 1 hour in sidesword focus class
- 2.5 hours in class covering general fitness, wrestling, line drills, refining the first assault, and longsword slow work/playing with shiny new toys

It's unreal how easily and quickly I have found myself caught up. A little sore, but still hungry. 10,000 hours seems smaller and smaller when I remember how much damned fun the art holds.

It Hurts

Monday was my first outdoor class with Randy.  In fact, it may be the first big outdoor workout that I've had in years.  The last time I really pushed myself outdoors was over two years ago when my older brother and I used to run together at a high school in Burnaby.  There's a viking that looks like Satan in front of the school that has purportedly driven down property values, if anyone knows what school it is, leave one in the comments.

I had a half cooked idea about joining the VPD, and in order to do that I needed to meet the basic physical requirements.  Run the obstacle course in I-can't-remember-how-many minutes, and run a mile and a half in less than 12 minutes.  I did those runs with my brother twice a week for two months.  My best time was 10:13 around the track.  Then we ran tobattas (did I spell that correctly?  doubtful) on the track; sprint as hard a we can for 30 seconds and rest for 30 seconds, eight times.  Then a brief set of body weight exercises that I could go through with reasonably little difficulty.  The sprints always ground me into dust.  I was always strong out of the gates, and on those occasions when my brother would bring another member of his ultimate team out, they'd always seem impressed that I could keep up, or outpace a few of them in the sprints.

I wasn't in incredible shape at any point, but I was passable, and it made me feel impressive being able to throw around a number around that was competitive to get on the VPD.

But I digress.

Monday was Randy's class.  Monday was an outdoor class.  Monday was rainy.  Monday destroyed me.

Sprint 2/3 of a block(ish) and walk back to the starting line.  Stop at a filthy pair of shirts that have been left on the ground.  Do it ten times, or until you can't anymore.  Alternative when you're bagged: Sprint a shorter distance with a nice steep uphill.  I made eight sprints, and thought I was going to die.  My legs were tired, my lungs were burning, and my tongue and jaw hurt from running and breathing so hard.  The last two sets up the small hill had me parking my ass on the unused kiddie pool and wondering if the sprints had left me too tired to vomit.  Class continued; as did the rain.  The gymnastics exercises were almost too much.  The cartwheels and handstands have gotten easier.  And then came boxing.  A whole class of boxing because no one wanted to bring their swords in the rain, except for me.  The drills have all blurred together, starting with a simple jab cross 2x2, and finishing with a spinning back elbow leading to a combination chokeslam and hip throw straight out of my favorite martial arts movies.  No lie, it made me feel like I was living a scene out of the Blood Sport director's cut.  The class finished with slow work sparring.  No gloves, no pads, just the implied trust from your partner, and the knowledge that everyone is there to make each other better.

I went home, showered, had some adventures that night, came home again, and went to bed. 

I awoke sore.  Sore to the point where my muscles wouldn't respond to my commands; sore like I was the first time Patricia put me through the archery stretches; sore like I was when I worked out with my brother. from my ankles to my neck was sore.  Unbelievably sore.  To the point... well, if you're reading this, you're either a facebook friend or a fencing nerd (probably both) so you probably know the feeling of the morning after a grinding workout.

And while I grumble and grouse about it, I know that the greatest change in my physical ability has always been accompanied by sprints.  The days on the track with my brother, wrestling in grade 12, and now twice a week, maybe thrice, with or without Randy, sprints and gymnastics.

It hurts, and I hate it, but the physique to pursue mastery awaits me on the other side of this threshold.

If I run fast enough, maybe I can just blitz through it...

Catholic Athleticism

Born on November 2nd, 1987 at 11:52 P.M.  My mom has reiterated this detail more than a few times during my life when talking about my birthday, because the only way I've ever remembered my best friend's birthday has been looking at the calendar for MY birthday, and sliding my finger up a week.  October 26th.  Thank God, remembered again.  My covenant with God was established shortly after my birth, and baptism came reasonably soon after that.

A bunch of stuff happened after that, and here I am today trying to make it work as a swordsman.  Oh, and I stopped believing in God shortly after I dropped out of university, because music school turns you into an unwashed liberal savage.  It was kind of hard on my mom, so I offered her a compromise:

I won't be religious, but I'll still be motivated by shame, guilt, and self-loathing.  Still basically Catholic, right?  Or if Robin Williams is to be believed, the anti-Episcopalian (same religion, half the guilt; none of the religion, twice the guilt).

And abandoning religious belief led me to view the world relative to how I could specifically change, shape, and control it.  I don't get bent out of shape about the weather, or other drivers being jerks; I get bent out of shape about being too broke to clothe myself for the weather, about not getting out of the house early enough to avoid or not worry about other people's driving.  Most of the problems are my problems, and the only means to fix them is to position myself so that they're not problems.  Get out the door early enough that you have time for supper before shift, bring extra clothes, prepare yourself with knowledge and practice so that you're equipped for whatever nonsense you have to deal with. 

And that certainly includes my classes, but this view has led to a few problems recently.  Martial arts training is the first thing that I've ever been SERIOUS serious about.  Like, willing to abandon all semblance of rational career choices because if I don't, I'm going to wake up someday and hate everything about myself.  An old professor of mine put it best, he sat me down one day and called me on two semesters worth of nonsense, and after giving me my forty lashes he told me why he does what he does.

"Aaron, I got my degree and practiced my ass off because I knew that if I didn't, I was going to wake up one day with a house in Halifax, a job that I'd hate, and a contant state of misery.  I need music in my life; it is incomplete without it."

The sword is what makes me complete.  I feel whole when I have a sword and a scabbard belted on.  Every day that I pick up a sword is a good day.  When I look back at it.  And I don't think about my fighting.

I hate my fighting most of the time, because of a few things that Randy talks about in his blog.  From my own perspective, I see that I have been given the rules to win.  And that an inability to use those rules to my benefit is a real and direct failure on my part.  There's one guy in the class whose fighting looks like a monkey whose limbs were amputated and replaced by pool noodles.  Everything I've been taught tells me that this guy is an easy mark.  And almost every time we fight I get tagged in the arm.  And it makes me furious.  Because he isn't fighting wrongly.  I am.  Victory is the only thing that determines rightness and wrongness in a fight, and my defeat makes me wrong.  And I have to expend energy just staying in the mindset of "don't fight to hurt" after several bad passes, and then my body is tight and tense, and then I'm spending more energy on controlling my breathing and my mental state, and it all detracts from the fight.  And all I can do is walk away with this overarching feeling of shame and self-loathing.  Because I can't control my ego, and because I'm not good enough, and because I'm not fast enough, and because I'm a miserable failure and what the fuck am I doing with myself anyway?  And then I'm getting changed and feeling myself get changed mechanically, and there's only a steep downward spiral after that.

I have had one night of good fighting in the last month.  I had scrounged workout clothes: shorts and a thin hoodie, no shoes, no gloves, and no gorget.  Randy told me to wiggle my hips.  Then my shoulders relaxed, and I realized that I looked ridiculous, and that made me giggle.  And then I was on fire for the whole rest of the night.  I was fast, and accurate, and agile, and holy SHIT I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT LANDED.  That landed, right?  That wasn't just a touch?  Wow.  DAMN what a nice hit.

And then it was back to the badness.

I'm told that I'm stronger; that my game is getting better.  But I don't believe it, and I won't until I'm either the best in town, or I reprogram myself.

Now to learn more about sport psychology, and meditation.

Improvement; Advancement; Growth

I've been training with Randy for months now.  I go in (usually) twice a week, grind my body into dust, pour beer on it after so it doesn't blow into the breeze, sleep, whimper softly upon awakening, and steel myself to do it again.  Three months with that small, close knit group.  Twice a week with Tyler, who is strong, and fast, and a long time student of Randy's; with Jordan who is a dear friend and introduced me to the master; with Kaja who is lithe and graceful; and Troy the wrathful pirate.  Good men and women.  Good partners.  But only fencing within the same pool of people who all fence in an approximation of the same style can stagnate.  No, that's a bad word.  I haven't stagnated with Randy, I've become strong and fast.  But more on that in a minute.  I suppose it would be better to say that I have trouble measuring myself against my fellow students, because we're all improving together, and at much the same speed.  I once heard Devon talking about advancement in Duello, and he said it wasn't a good idea to measure yourself against a fellow student, because they're not going to slow down and let you catch them to measure yourself.  I'm inclined to disagree.  No one worth fighting will ever stand still and be my control, but they're all worth measuring myself against.

To that end, I had most of a Friday night off last week, and decided to spend it at the Academie for fight night.  I fought for three glorious hours, and against people I remember fighting many times in the months leading up to November.  I fought the green cords, and found myself able to exert complete control over the measure of the fight.  I fought the blue cords and where I was once left confused and bewildered by the new adaptive plays they were taught, I had a few tricks of my own to throw against them.  I fought with a few of the red cords and while I'm not at their level yet, I move swiftly enough to fight them; I landed clean, solid blows against Mattheus and wasn't surprised by it.  I landed a number of blows on him that were less clean, and he on me.  The biggest change from the last time I fought him was that I wasn't afraid of combat with him any more.  I stepped into his measure without fear, but instead with hunger.  He and the other red cords.  They are the mark which I am measured against as a student, and for the first time, I feel as though I'm up to the task.

And then I fought Devon.  Where I was hungry and joyful while fighting Mattheus, my demeanor changed while fighting Devon.  Victory is the measure of my skills against the other students; the feedback I get is the measure of my skills from Devon.  My fighting was erratic, most of my cuts struck with the flat, and I was flaily.  "Chaotic" was the word that Devon used.  He agreed with my assessment that my control of measure had improved, but my control of the center line has fallen on the wayside.  The fight was humbling.  I've learned much, but there's still much in the manner of basics for me to improve.

I left for work that night exhausted.  But exhausted by three hours of combat.  I can last longer, fight harder, and move faster.  I'm better, stronger, I'm....

Oh god, I've become a Daft Punk song.

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger.

An Interview with the Scrapper

In keeping with a previous post, I conducted my first interview.

On December 3rd, 2012.

The link to the interview is here.  I don't know if blogger will let me embed the file properly, so bear with me.  It's kind of a long listen.  I recommend a cup of coffee or tea, and I hope you'll join me as I explore interviewing.

I've been sitting on the interview for almost two months, pondering what to do with it.  I thought about direct transposition, and decided against it due to a lack of patience.  I thought about just putting the interview up with name, date, and particulars, but that felt rather lazy, like something would be necessarily missing from the experience.  For now I think my best course of action would be to post the audio file, and my thoughts and reflections on the content.  As a postscript, I will try to give a few thoughts on the process of the interview.

The interview began with an introduction, and a small bit of gushing over how cool Claire is.  I started the interview proper with a question about her background in the martial arts, and she suggested I amend that to "forms of movement" because her history in combat actually began with taking dance classes to try and make her less of a scrapper as a small child.  I didn't think much of that at the time, since I was still fairly new to Randy's classes.  Recently however, this has started to make a measure of sense.  I've been looking at the movements that I have to undertake in Randy's class, and asked myself why they're useful.  Personally I have a sneaking suspicion that everyone in class is going to wake up a year from now and realize they've been Miyagi'd, but I digress.  And since she made a point of including her background as a dancer, and thinks of martial arts as movement as much as combat, I was naturally curious as to how that has informed her fighting.  Because moving one's body is a skill, and the more you know how to move your body, the more you can do with it.  From a much more literal viewpoint, specific styles have brought something to the table for her fighting.  Belly dancing was focused on isolating single muscle groups and learning how to move her body, break dancing was about learning to interact with the space around her, and with the space of the people she was dancing with and against.

After talking about dance, and her early years in combat I wanted to know about her teachers, and some of the faces she had encountered.  Outside of dance, her first teacher was a man named Ryan who plays in the SCA, who taught her a lot about fighting in armor, and the basics of how to attack and defend.  It's an interesting similarity between the two of us that we both started in the SCA, though we went in very different directions with our fighting and training.  While she's one to really look at movement and fighting styles, I personally don't have much of an eye for it.

The interview continued with some anecdotes about Sean Hayes and teaching; the points Claire made on connecting with students via low impact motions, and the development of a rapport and physical echo felt important.  I wonder, what manner of theory theory there is to accompany that observation?  The statement and wisdom gleaned feels like the logical consequence of a deeper concept.

I asked her to close off after a bit of discussion on the society, and who her heroes are.  That she included me among people she really admires in the WMA community is one of the most singularly flattering things I've heard since deciding to pursue this dream.  And if any of you bothered to listen to the whole interview, with awkward stammering and slightly scratchy audio, I hope you'll follow her recommendation and try it out. 

Because so far, there's been nothing but changes for the better.

Inspiration

Last week was a good week for fencing.  Randy Packer has started up his new classes through Valkyrie and I have had the pleasure of training under him during the maiden voyage of his new venture.

The content of the classes has been a welcome addition to my training and development.  The classes begin with a small amount of cardio, usually in the form of movement exercises like bunny hops, crab walking, and fog jumps.  Following that, there are conditioning exercises like L-sits, and then the exercises incorporate balance and conditioning, with the last exercises focusing on coordination.  It's an eclectic mix of activities incorporating gymnastics, calisthenics, and even break dancing.  Highly enjoyable, and ultra draining.  Seriously, when I woke up on Tuesday it took me at least 2 minutes to work up the strength to open my eyes.  After warm-up and conditioning, we got into the 5x5.  And having done it, I can see why it's Randy's baby.  The format was simple, the movements were simple, and it's goals were easy to recognize.  The speed was a little overwhelming, but that was intentional according to Randy.  150 techniques is a lot to cover in a whole class, never mind the blistering timeframe that Randy tries to keep, but we all eventually muddled through it.  The last few minutes of the first class was spent on rapier drills, with a focus on flow and movement.

And walking out for beer after class?  God, that might have been the highlight.  One of the things that made me fall in love with swordplay was the community at Duello.  After class or a big demo I'd usually wind up taking in a few drinks with the other students, and to my sadness, a great many of those students I used to burn a couple hours with after class have moved away from Duello either due to life taking them away from Vancouver, or because their training had moved in a different direction.  I've missed connecting with my fellow students, and getting to know them.  These days I feel like I hardly know many of the regular students.

The class also added more fuel to the fire.  Training at Duello is beginning to feel stale within the mastery program.  It's not that I don't think they're out of material to teach me, but rather, that because I never catch that last bit of knowledge that I need for blue cord, I keep on repeating the same green cord classes over and over and over and over again.  The improvements to my form have all been clearly necessary, but there's only so much refinement I can stomach before I want to gnaw on my rapier pommel to break the monotony (and my teeth).  Currently I'm breaking the monotony by taking the training into my own hands and researching Manciolino and his treatise through Tom Leoni's translation.

There's an underlying problem that troubles me through all of this.  Am I only driven by novelty?  Am I going to get bored and drop the sword once I learn everything?

Only one way to find out.  I need more books now...

A Thing I Should Do

INTERVIEWS.

And update more.  And I should probably get on yoga, vegetarian eating, and saving the whales.

But seriously, interviews.

It all starts with the desire for knowledge.  That's really what everything I'm doing right now boils down to.  I don't know how to fence competently with the weapons I'm interested in, and if I don't know how to fence competently with my chosen weapons, I certainly can't teach them.  To that end, I study under Devon and his most advanced students so that I can expand my knowledge and improve my skills, and learn how to pass the skills and knowledge on.

And because I have a bad habit regarding horses, carts, and their order of acquisition, I can't help but wonder about all of that other stuff that rests well outside of what I need to know and be working on in the immediate future.  And who better to tell me about it than the people who are, quite literally, teaching me everything I need to know to pursue my dream?

But I can't just go right for the big fish!  Oh no.  The last interview I did was back in the 11th grade for history class, I interviewed my parents and a set of grandparents in search of their life stories.   It was intense, it took a long time, and my father threatened me with a beating if I didn't omit a piece about how one of his great joys was psychoanalyzing his wife without her knowledge*.

So.  The plan is simple.  I sample people within the community that I fence with regularly, admire, respect, or work with, and ask for their stories and thoughts on the WMA community, the art, and their place within it as practitioners, or teachers and keepers as the case may be.

More is coming.  Keep an eye out.

*the piece was not omitted; the beating was worth it

Why Should They Pick Up a Sword?

A few months ago I was in a demo team meeting and trying to develop a presentation for the archery program, and Devon asked me to say a piece on the program:  what it is, what we teach, what the focuses are, and why people should join.  The first four points were simple.  They're the meat and potatoes content of the program.  They're a part of my life, and how I'm developing as an athlete, and a teacher.

That last bit though... Well, I was kind of stuck (except for the "kind of" part).  I asked Devon for a bit of help, and not wanting to give me a canned line, he asked me why I did it.
My response was indicative of why I do it, just in a poorly articulated and flippant manner.
"I want people to look at my resumé and think I'm Link from The Legend of Zelda."
Devon smirked and told me to think about it more.

I wrote the original off as silly nonsense and set myself to trying to sell people on the idea of learning archery, without using buzz words, or sounding like a tool.  I eventually gave up because I was failing at my task, and set myself to learning some rapier choreography.

But lately I've been thinking about it.  Link was always my favorite video game character when I was much younger and more keen on gaming.  He was brave, agile, capable, a thinker, an adventurer, and always keen to help (if needlessly cruel to chickens on ocassion).  But above all of that, he was a hero.  An old school sword swinging, princess saving, monster slaying hero.  Hero.  The word carries power, and has a lot of different images and symbols associated with it.  My favorite of those images?  The sword, and to a lesser extent, the bow.

I want people to think I'm Link.  I want to be that brave, clever, agile adventurer. 

I want to be a hero.

Heroism is a curious thing though.  The sword doesn't make anyone a hero.  So why take the sword up?  Or the bow, for that matter?  Because the equipment doesn't make me a hero, but it has made me stronger, better, more confident, wiser, more attentive, patient, tactical, agile, and capable.  Through my learnings with the sword and the bow, I am coming closer with every lunge, cut, and shot, to being the hero I idolized through my youth.

Why should anyone take up archery or swordplay?  There are probably as many reasons as there are students of the arts.  Why did I take up archery and swordplay?  Because it connects me to my heroes, and to my own vision of heroism.  Everything else that has happened since pursuing my training is just the result of connecting with that heroism.

Am I a hero though?

No.  Not right now.  But heroism is a topic for another day.

Rank Exam #2

"Aaron, could you come here for a minute?"

I hate hearing those words.  They very rarely are portents of anything good.

I went over to see Clint and hear the fateful words.
"You didn't make it this time."

I like to be flip about it and say that it would have taken a miracle to pass that exam, and that I'd rather save that miracle for my silver cord or my gold cord.

I like to look at the positives, which was that my wrestling, which was my weakest point in my last exam, was my strongest point in this exam.

I like to make excuses too.  I spent all summer in knight camp, I hadn't trained in months, I was thinking about getting to work on time, I spent too long trying to check my form in the mirror, and a great many others. 

But the simple fact was that I wasn't ready. 

The biggest piece of feedback that I got was that my sword moved in a two foot wide circle, and that it needs to move in a three inch circle.

I waited a few days for the feedback form, and was more than a little crushed when I got it.  There are three grades listed on the feedback for each section:
1. Exceeded Expectations (EE)
2. Met Expectation (ME)
3. Did Not Meet Expectations (DME)

I exceeded expectations on my wrestling, and didn't meet the expectations on anything else. The feedback pointed out what was wrong, and to my frustration, there was a lot that I had been working on in the feedback that still hadn't improved.  The feedback is necessary to my growth within the Academie, within the art, and as a swordsman.

The last lesson I could take away was a fairly important one.  Failure is good.  It keeps me humble, and reminds me that I have a standard to live up to; that I need to continue my training; that I need to keep chasing that dream.

Cascadia and the Iron Waffle

The timeline for Cascadia and my specific experience with it was something of a long one.  It began in hypotheticals, half promises, and lots of confusion.  Was I volunteering?  How much was I paying to go?  What would my duties be?  How much running and stress was there going to be?
The last thing on my mind was lesson content.  I was only going to be a volunteer.  My duties (theoretically) included the same things I did in the city: set up the range, tear down the range, marshal the range when Jason needs a break, and make sure no one does anything crazy.

I booked the time off work.

I packed up the van and the trailer on Friday afternoon.

I rode out to North Van, unloaded the van, and hopped on the boat (still confused).

"Oh Aaron, you're teaching the Beginner Archery workshop."

"Wait, what now?"

Yep.  Teaching.  I was supposed to run the standard 2-hour workshop that I had spent a great many hours watching and assisting for the last several months.  A bit of a bombshell, but my options included getting Jason to teach the course, trying to teach it and crumbling to itty bitty pieces, or actually doing a good job of it.

I was introduced to the man representing Jubilee for the weekend and then I set myself to work.

Assess the facilities, determine how much equipment I would have, plot the lesson, talk to Jason during supper and get his thoughts, and then drink myself into a stupor and spin fire with Terri.  (by the way, fire spinning is stupid amounts of fun)

Then the next day was the lesson.  Up bright and early to stretch by the dock, then a big breakfast, then a bit of prep work on the Jubilee range, and then I went to fetch my students for the morning.

I gave the history talk to the late comers on the way up, had a short talk on the bow and it's technology and was terribly nervous through the whole affair.  Once the history talk and the preliminaries were done, I got into the physical component, and then everything got easy.  Helping someone's form is easy.  Eventually Jason got one the scene and started running a couple other lines, and then before I knew it, it was all done.

I didn't know what to think of it.  In all honesty, I still don't.  I've heard nothing but good feedback from everyone, including Rish, so I guess I can take that as a sign that the job was well done.  Well done, but not done to my own standards.  The goal for next time is to be able to deliver the whole spiel without appearing so obviously nervous, and to make non-awkward conversation for the first half of the workshop.

Knight Camp Pt.1

Let me preface anything to do with Knight Camp with this:

There is nothing in life that I've ever been more proud of than my work with Knight Camp.

It's everything special that I wish I could have done as a little boy, a teenager, and a young man.  It's a collection of every single thing that I wanted to do, and usually did with friends in my parents' back yard when I was little, except there were people around who shared in the joy of the sword, and adults who made it safe and fun.

There were games, there was sword training, there were ranks to climb, battles to fight, and a deeper level of involvement for the kids who were a little older.  There was a standard of behaviour that the kids not only adhered to, but a higher standard that many aspired to.  I saw acts of kindness from these kids that moved me to tears on more than one occasion.  I saw a spirit of comraderie, competition, and compassion that I didn't think was possible.  I saw punk kids come in on Monday mornings, and well mannered; virtuous young men and women leave on Friday afternoons (usually begging their parents for another week, or to be allowed to come back next year).

I saw teenagers give up a summer of making money for the chance to pass on the joy of Knight Camp to a new group of kids.

I could swear that I saw everything that was best in life in the two months I was there.

There were days that I wanted to string a few kids (and a few of my counter parts) from the ceiling, but in the final estimation;

I've never had more pride in anything I've done.

Training with Randy

Yesterday I got the privilege of training under Randy Packer over at box-wrestle-fence with a dear friend and old training partner, Jordan.
Let's start at the beginning.  I met the man for the first time, after much acclaim from Jordan and Kaja at CNAT.  I knew that he was Devon's former partner, that he was a white scarf, and that he had a beard.  Other than that, I could infer that he had a much different focus than Devon from how Jordan and Kaja's fighting had changed and developed since they started training with him, though I couldn't articulate what it was.  Outside of that, for all I knew, him and his (epic) beard could have been fueled by the blood of his enemies*.
* Jordan has not explicitly denied the possibility of this.  I remain necessarily curious and wary.
We arrived at his house shortly after 3:30, and after affixing my tips to my weapons, we set about to slow work.  He told me just to work on flow and to really try and get my joints loose, to try weird and goofy stuff, and to fight with my dagger unless I was exceptionally uncomfortable with it.
After that, he had me and Jordan mask up and fight a few full speed passes.
Then he recorded me lunging from a few different angles.
Then he inquired about my diet, and I earned a disapproving look from him for several months of poor choices.
Then there was more full speed sparring, some slow work woth just daggers, and yet further sparring, and then holy mother of god do I need some water, and it's already been an hour?  No way.  That's almost impossible.  I don't hurt NEARLY enough for that to have been an hour of training.
My classical fencing looks terrible according to him.  He made me stop thinking about footwork, and just focus on my fighting.  He did that in a fairly novel way, too.
He told Jordan to kick my ass.
He made Jordan set his dagger down so that he would be forced to be aggressive and high energy, and then after Jordan was moving quickly and aggressively and being fairly consistantly foiled by my dagger, he was instructed to take his dagger back up again.
Then it started to get furry.
The passes were intense, and combat flowed quickly.  Far more quickly than most combat at Duello.  There were cuts.  More than I've ever seen in any rapier fight.  And it felt almost like a dance.  I was shifting from a long guard into a refused guard and batting attacks away with my dagger and testing him with my sword and voiding my legs and body.  And through all of it, Randy was quizzing me on previous combat and sport experience, looking for a movement that I was used to that could be inserted into my fighting.
He was puzzled by some of my defenses and motions.  Not because they were bad, but because he hadn't seen anyone fight like me before; becuase my horizontal attacks and defenses were rock solid, and most fencers lack strength on that axis.  He was less surprised when I told him that I was an archery teacher, and that Patricia was training me.
He let me know what wasn't working.  What postures were bad, what was making me get hit, and what his fixes were.
He told me that I was good; that I was better than I thought I was.  That I have good reflexes, and that he can help me learn to fence comfortably.
It was an intense hour, but not uncomfortably so.  He's easy to talk to, very casual in his language, prone to cussing, and willing to explore the mechanics of my body.  It was enlightening, invigorating, and sweet god, it was FUN.
I look forward to training with him more in the future.

Back Again

Among other things, I have returned to the blogosphere, and boy howdy do I have stuff to say.  The first rank exam took it out of me; removed the wind from my sails as it were.
Knight Camp came shortly after, the Cascadia North Accolade Tournament took place, a bit of training on equipment maintenance has happened, and holy god there was another rank exam, and I've gone and expanded my training by adding in another teacher.
But before I get into anything about that, I have a thought on an eventual school:
There has to be hardwood floors.
Because aesthetics are important dammit.
Now that I have that out of the way, keep your eyes open, because there's much to catch up on.  It's all going to come out in a fairly unfiltered manner, but I hope the sheer volume will make up for the lack of polish.
Thanks for reading, and it's nice to get back into it.

Training Journal- Day 21

June 15, 2012
Took a couple Weeks off of formal training after the rank exam. Between a move, two jobs, and archery, life has been a goddamn mad house.
The week following the exam was spent settling in to the new house, losing my keys, and adventuring as a borderline hobo for a couple days.
The week after was spent in merciful decompression.
The next several weeks are going to be an aggressive training schedule. All focus classes.
Life carries on, training makes it all worth while. The goal is near, next time I will be strong and ready.
Warm Up- dynamic warm up
Solo Drills- footwork in a mirror, emphasis on good posture and alignment
Partner Drills- tessatura, defense against cuts in contra tempo, off hand covers
Slow Work- N/A
Full Speed- N/A
What Worked- hips stayed back in solo work, learned how to defend against cuts in contra tempo (retreat, collect the sword, strike; I almost take 2 actions in the space of their single action)
What Needs Improvement- body needs to be positioned better, I'm leaning towards my right leg, should be directly in line with my left
Follow-up for Next Time- footwork and body alignment corrections with a mirror
Other Notes- none today