InFocus Magazine

One afternoon back in 2011, Amber Robinson noticed something strange about her left hand.

“It felt weird all of a sudden,” says the 44-year-old Courtenay woman. “The padded area on my palm, just underneath my thumb, started to spasm. It was sort of like an internal tremor or like aliens were inside my hand.”

Since that day, Robinson’s hand symptoms have persisted and worsened. “Not long after, I started to lose my grip. I’ve also experienced nerve pain, and my hand will occasionally go into a claw—it will spasm really strongly and my entire hand will clench. When that happens, I have to use my right hand to pry my left hand open.”

What Robinson didn’t know at the time was that her bizarre hand symptoms were just the beginning—the beginning of her journey into the terrifying and lonely world of Lyme disease.

Lyme disease, named after the town in Connecticut where it was initially described, is caused by Borrelia burgdorferi, a spirochete or corkscrew-shaped bacteria that commonly infects woodland animals such as rabbits, deer mice, songbirds, and most commonly, the white-tailed deer. Lyme’s main vector—an insect that is a carrier of a disease-producing organism—is the black-legged tick, an insect that’s barely the size of the period at the end of this sentence. The tick feeds on these infected animals, and if the infected tick eventually lands on and bites a person, it can spread the bacteria to its new host.

Once the Lyme-causing bacteria is inside of a person, the spirochete can drill through tissue and can embed itself in the central nervous system, heart, brain, liver, spleen and joints. These highly evolved microbes cause a host of symptoms ranging from dizziness to paralysis. Some infected individuals report flu-like symptoms, fatigue, neck stiffness, jaw discomfort and swollen glands. Nervous system abnormalities include memory loss and partial facial paralysis (Bell’s palsy). Peripheral neuropathy, migratory joint pains and pains in the tendons, muscles and bones may occur later in the disease. More subtle changes such as memory loss, difficulty with concentration, and a change in mood or sleeping habits have also been associated with Lyme disease. The sheer range of symptoms of Lyme disease—there are more than 100—have caused this shape-shifting disease to be dubbed ‘The Great Impostor.’

Lyme could also be called ‘The Great Traveler’, since it is found on every continent except for the Antarctic. In fact, though already impressive, the habitat range of ticks is increasing every year as climate change warms the earth, thereby increasing the areas where ticks can survive.

As one would suspect, the increasing range of ticks means it is becoming easier for one to be bitten by a tick. In fact, here in British Columbia, Western black-legged ticks are active for every season, posing a year-round risk. British Columbia represents the latest province where Lyme disease is endemic or well-established. Experts suspect that about 50 per cent of ticks in British Columbia are infected with Lyme, with the heaviest concentration in the Lower Mainland and Vancouver Island.

Though tick bites are the most common way a person can become infected with Lyme disease, it is proven that pregnant women can pass it on to their unborn children. In addition, a prenatal infection of Lyme disease can make the mother more likely to miscarry. Not yet proven is the question of whether or not Lyme disease can be contracted sexually or through blood transfusion.

Even though Lyme disease is considered the most pervasive vector-borne illness in North America, it has, for the most part, flown under the radar of most public officials and medical professionals. In fact, Canada’s Public Health Agency only started tracking the disease in 2009. Even so, some consider Lyme disease to be one of the most under-diagnosed diseases in Canada. In North America, more people contract Lyme than they do AIDS, West Nile and Avian Flu combined.

Lyme disease certainly wasn’t on Robinson’s radar. “I don’t remember ever being bitten by a tick,” recalls Robinson. “But I did love to camp with my daughter over the years—we spent a lot of time outside.” In fact, spending time in wooded or grassy areas is considered the number one risk factor in contracting Lyme disease. Generally, ticks prefer humid environments such as forests, leaf mold, and on lawns and back yards where ticks climb up grasses and bushes on the edges of trails to wait for a new host to pass by.

Because a tick bite is painless, many people, like Robinson, do not realize they have been bitten. To make matters worse, though some Lyme victims experience immediate symptoms after infection, others may be asymptomatic for months or even years. Symptoms, when they do appear, will sometimes disappear and then reappear at various times. Lyme can even go into a dormant stage in the form of cysts, sitting quiet in our system for years, even decades, until the right combination of stresses tip the scale.

Robinson believes this is what happened to her. “I think I lived for years with the bacteria in my body, and for the most part I don’t remember having symptoms during that time. But a couple years ago I traveled to Mexico and came back quite ill. I think that infection triggered the Lyme bacteria to come out of hiding.”

Soon after Robinson’s return from Mexico her symptoms began, starting with her hand and quickly growing into a long list of ailments such as joint pain, dizziness, debilitating fatigue, tinnitus, brain fog and carpal tunnel. The fact that Robinson lived for years not knowing she had Lyme disease has made her recovery especially elusive, since early treatment of Lyme disease is critical.

When identified early, a short course of oral antibiotics will cure the majority of cases of Lyme disease. However, if left untreated, Lyme disease can cause permanent damage to the heart, nervous system and joints. Unfortunately, Lyme is very difficult to diagnose because symptoms vary from person to person. As a result, many Lyme disease sufferers are initially misdiagnosed with other diseases that have similar symptoms to Lyme, such as multiple sclerosis, lupus, Parkinson’s, early-onset Alzheimer’s, autism spectrum disorder and ALS. In fact, many patients with fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome and autoimmune diseases often have untreated Lyme disease. When patients who in fact have Lyme disease are not diagnosed or are misdiagnosed they do not receive the appropriate treatment, thereby exacerbating the symptoms.

Like many with Lyme disease, Robinson was initially diagnosed with ALS. On her quest to find what was wrong with her, Robinson consulted with two neurosurgeons—the first who decided that Robinson was suffering from ALS.

“After he told me that I had ALS, I spent the next couple of weeks preparing to die,” recalls Robinson. She even measured her living room to make sure that a hospital bed would fit and she ensured that her mother would be able to care for her. Even so, there was a small part of Robinson that refused to believe that ALS was the reason for her symptoms, so she asked for a second opinion.

“I asked to see the other neurologist for a lumbar puncture and for some more nerve conductive tests,” Robinson says. After enduring more tests, the second neurologist informed Robinson that she was missing a critical component to ALS—conductive blocks—and therefore determined that ALS was not what was causing Robinson’s hand symptoms.

“In my heart of hearts I knew that I did not have ALS,” says Robinson. “Though the tests were incredibly painful, that was a very happy doctor’s appointment.”

The next day was a happy day too—and that’s also when Robinson started to suspect the real reason for her illness. “I remember that a ferry passenger commented that my smile was the biggest he’d seen in a long time,” recalls Robinson, who has worked for BC Ferries for the last 15 years. “I told him that I was smiling because I didn’t have ALS. I was surprised when he told me that he’d also been diagnosed with ALS, but it turned out to be Lyme disease.” That got Robinson wondering—could it be Lyme disease that was making her so sick?

Lyme disease was now on Robinson’s radar, but she needed a definitive diagnosis, and unfortunately, that can be difficult to achieve. In order to be diagnosed, patients are told to look for a bull’s-eye rash known as Erythema migrans. The problem is that many Lyme sufferers—at least 50 per cent of Lyme cases—don’t present with the bull’s-eye rash. “I don’t remember ever having had the bull’s-eye rash,” Robinson says.  Surprisingly, most physicians still use the bull’s-eye rash as a first indicator of Lyme disease.

According to the Centre for Disease Control, Lyme disease should be determined using a clinical diagnosis, meaning that the physician makes the diagnosis using your clinical history and symptoms. Lab tests should only be used to confirm a clinical diagnosis. However, many physicians in Canada still depend on a test-derived diagnosis before treatment will be given.  The problem is that the two-tiered testing protocol used in Canada and the US is riddled with false negatives and is unable to detect all bacterial strains and co-infections.  As well, the first test—the ELISA—is ineffective in detecting the infection in its early stages. A negative test means the second phase—the Western Blot—isn’t applied, and closes the door on further testing and treatment.

Through shear perseverance, Robinson finally received a diagnosis for Lyme disease. But the diagnosis was just the beginning of her battle.  For most people diagnosed with Lyme disease, a large part of the battle is the cost of treatment. According to numbers provided by the American Centre for Disease Control, the cost of the disease in the United States is more than $3 billion annually—a financial impact borne largely by patients and their families.

Here in Canada, the situation is no different. In fact, for most Canadians with Lyme disease, the cost of late-stage Lyme treatment is devastating. Most have to pay for their treatment out of pocket as long term treatment for Lyme is not covered under the Medical Services Plan. Paradoxically, many Lyme disease sufferers lose their income when they need it most, as they can no longer fulfill their job requirements.

“You have to go underground to get treatment to fight Lyme,” Robinson says. “Every day I worry about my livelihood and my finances. Treatment such as antibiotics and IV injections are all coming out of my pocket. I spend over $900 each week for my treatment, and that doesn’t include my supplements or my antibiotics.”

Since first being discovered in 1977, few if any diseases have held as much controversy as Lyme disease, especially chronic Lyme disease. In North America, the guidelines of the Infectious Diseases Society (IDSA) heavily influence most physicians. In fact, most physicians within the mainstream medical community are quite skeptical about the existence of chronic Lyme disease. IDSA guidelines state that there is no convincing biologic evidence for chronic Lyme infection and recommend only the short term treatment. IDSA guidelines advise that Lyme can be effectively treated with no more than four weeks of antibiotics, and any symptoms that persist after treatment are attributed to temporary residual effects of the Lyme bacteria, or even as psychosomatic.

Lyme advocacy groups and ‘Lyme-literate’ doctors disagree with the IDSA guidelines. They believe long-term antibiotics are required to completely vanquish the infection. Long-term antibiotics are considered necessary because of the long division time of Borrelia burgdorferi. Most other pathogens, such as Streptococcus or Staphylococcus, only take 20 minutes to double, but the doubling time of Borrelia burgdorferi is estimated to be 12 to 24 hours. Most antibiotics are cell wall agent inhibitors, meaning they can only kill bacteria when the bacteria begins to divide and form new cell walls. Therefore, a slow doubling time means less lethal exposure to antibiotics.

Most bacteria are killed in 10 to 14 days of antibiotic treatment. To get the same amount of lethal exposure during new cell wall formation of a Lyme spirochete, the antibiotic would have to be present for much longer—some experts estimate that antibiotics need to be present 24 hours a day for 18 months to completely eradicate the Lyme bacteria.

The problem is that Canadian doctors who’ve treated “chronic Lyme” with long-term antibiotics have been disciplined and/or seen their medical licences revoked. The result has been a medical standoff—and an underground Lyme treatment network that sees Canadians travelling to the areas in the US called Lyme-leper colonies, and paying upward of $50,000 for treatment.

“It’s bad enough to have Lyme disease, but then to not get any support from my country’s medical system—it just adds insult to injury,” says Robinson. “The emotional pain is huge. You feel abandoned when you have Lyme disease. When you try to get medical care you just keep running up against brick walls. Here’s how I can best describe how I feel—I used to be very patriotic, but not anymore. My country has failed me.”

The treatment for Lyme might improve soon here in Canada, thanks to Elizabeth May, Green Party leader and the MLA for the Gulf Islands. In 2012, May decided to fight for Lyme disease sufferers when she put forth her private members bill C-442, titled the Federal Framework on Lyme Disease Act. C-442 calls for a coordinated strategy to track the incidence rates, create educational materials to raise awareness about Lyme disease, and establish testing and treatment guidelines. It also calls for research support and more reliable diagnostic testing, as well as increased education and awareness among physicians. Unlike most private members bills, C-442 passed unanimously at third reading by the Senate on December 12, 2014 and now awaits Royal Assent by the Governor General for it to become law.

Though the future of Lyme disease treatment may be changing for the better, at present those with Lyme disease have a hard battle to fight.

“Having Lyme disease… it’s a roller coaster,” says Robinson. “I take it day by day. Lyme just leaves nothing untouched—it’s taken over my life. And it’s pretty isolating too. You quickly figure out who your people are when you have Lyme disease. Some really rise to the occasion and some just want to pretend it’s not happening. It’s hard because Lyme disease doesn’t look like cancer does. Outwardly, I might look like I’m healthy, but inside I’m riddled with disease. And if someone else says, ‘Oh, but you look good!’ I think I’m going to freak out.”

Though life is a day-by-day operation for Robinson, she has found that she has a circle of supporters who she knows will stand by her. “Though shift work is hard and the exposure to the elements impedes my progress, I know that going to work is good for my mental health,” she says. “It’s a big extended family there [at BC Ferries]. My co-workers make me feel good and loved. They’re very supportive.”

Robinson also has her mother, Robin Dyck, to help her through this incredibly difficult time. “I’ve watched Amber suffer and many times I’ve wanted to trade places with her,” says Dyck. “But I’m so proud of her. Through it all she’s never taken the word ‘no’ as an answer and she’s researched Lyme disease daily since her diagnosis. If anyone can turn this around it will be Amber.”

And Robinson has every intention of turning things around, but she needs some help along the way. Robinson’s longtime friend, Paige Ennis, set up a fund raising page at YouCaring when she saw what her friend was going through.

“I admire Amber so much,” Ennis says. “She has no choice but to go to work every day because it’s tricky here in Canada when you have chronic Lyme disease. Amber wants to enjoy life to the fullest. To live and be free. But Lyme disease has really tied her down.

“The fundraising site…well, it’s had almost 400 shares, but only a handful of donations. I want people to know that any amount is appreciated—even $20 or $30 makes a huge difference,” adds Ennis, who is hopeful that those who read this article will go to the YouCaring page and help Robinson as she faces her battle with Lyme disease.

To help Robinson in her battle against Lyme go to: www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/amber-robinson-no-time-for-lyme-/272792

 

Lyme Disease & Tick Protection

Western Black-legged Ticks:
The Western Black-legged tick is very common during the spring and early summer. It occurs on vegetation in warm, moist areas on Vancouver Island, the Gulf Islands, and along the mainland coast between the United States border and Powell River. Its eastward range extends along the Fraser River to Yale and north to Boston Bar. The red and black females and smaller black males attach to humans, deer, cats and dogs, becoming grey and bean-like in size as they feed.

• Color: Reddish/orange-brown with dark legs
• Shape: Flat, broad oval
• Size: 1/4 inch long

 

How can you protect yourself from Lyme disease?

• Wear long sleeve shirts and long pants when going into tick country.
• Light colors are best so ticks can be easily seen.
• Tuck pants into socks and spray clothes with a commercial insect repellent containing diethyl toluamide (DEET) to repel ticks.
• If possible, avoid game trails or old roads overgrown or closely lined with vegetation. Tick levels may be high in areas frequented by animals.
• When resting, sit on a bare rock, a ground sheet, or a vegetation-free area instead of stretching out on vegetation.
• After being in an area known to harbor ticks, make daily examinations for ticks, paying particular attention to the pubic region, the base of the skull, and the scalp. Check the backs of everyone in the group and carefully inspect any children. Clothes should be closely examined for ticks, especially near the collar, after they have been hanging overnight.
• Remove ticks promptly.
• Check pets carefully, as they are a source of entry for ticks into the house.
• Deer hunters should spend extra time checking their gear before bringing it their car or home.

 

How to remove a tick:

Many methods have been developed over the years for removing feeding ticks, which connect themselves to their host with small, barbed mouthparts. Ticks do not burrow under the skin. A number of the more drastic techniques such as using a hot cigarette, gasoline, or hot matches to induce the tick to detach itself are unreliable and may cause injury to the person involved. Ticks are most safely and effectively removed by a slow and gentle pull without twisting, using tweezers or fingers. This will normally remove the tick with the mouthparts attached.

• Remove the tick right away (if possible, wear disposable gloves when handling an engorged tick)
• Use tweezers or fingers to gently get ahold of the tick as close to the skin as possible. Don’t touch the tick with your hands.
• Without squeezing the tick, steadily lift it straight off the skin. Avoid jerking it out. Try to make sure that all of the tick is removed.
• Once the tick has been removed, clean the bite area with soap and water, then disinfect the wound with an antiseptic.
• Wash your hands with soap and water.
• If your doctor wants to have the tick tested:
• Save the tick in a container with a tight fitting top. Dampen a small cotton ball and put it into the tick container to keep the tick alive. (A live tick is necessary for culturing the spirochete, which causes Lyme disease.) Label the container with date shipped, name and address of person bitten or what type of animal the tick was from, what part of the body was bitten, and what part of the province the tick probably came from. Include the name and address of your family physician. For laboratory testing, this container should be mailed as soon as possible to : BCCDC Laboratory Services – Parasitology Section: 655 West 12th Ave., Vancouver, BC V5Z 4R4

 

If you have a tick bite:
If you had a tick bite, live in an area known for Lyme disease, or have recently traveled to an area where it occurs, and observe any of these symptoms, you should seek medical attention:

• Red, expanding rash called erythema migrans (EM)*
• Fatigue, chills, fever, headache, muscle and joint aches, and swollen lymph nodes.

*Some people may experience an EM rash and the general symptoms. In other people, general symptoms may be the only evidence of infection.

For more information visit the BC Center for Disease Control website at www.bccdc.ca

A video camera pans across the wide open spaces of a summer paddock. Amateur footage shows a throng of people in pants tie-dyed and jeans faded, hair wild and feet bare. They are moving in their own worlds to the music sounding from speakers set on each side of a makeshift stage.

Between them, sitting amongst a maelstrom of microphone stands and instruments, Shane Philip is doing what he does best. He sings and plays a weissenborn-style acoustic lap guitar, one foot kicks a driving base rhythm on a metallic pedal and the other foot bounces along to the melody. In front of him sits a handsome wood-carved djembe, and beside that a slender, serpent-like didgeridoo crests in a forked stand, the bulbous end resting an inch off the floor with a microphone waiting to capture and propel the earthy tones.

Around him is an assortment of percussive bells and shakers and cymbals, and a harmonica on a neckstand. The camera follows Philip’s fingers strum across the strings and press and release on the fret board, occasionally singing, then his mouth moving to and from the bees-waxed didgeridoo mouthpiece, all the while his eyes roaming the audience to gauge the mood and the energy of the gathering before him.

It once was a very familiar sight for Philip, a multi-instrumentalist one-man show, who possesses the sublime ability to weave such instruments and lyrics into a kind of primal, visceral force, capturing both a landscape of togetherness, goodwill, and global harmony through his words with a thumping back groove behind it.

“When I’m performing, something takes over,” he says. “I see someone in the audience respond and I go with their reaction, I try to carry it. Sometimes they drive and sometimes I drive. The energy goes two ways. That’s where the magic is.”

Cut to the present day, in a local Tin Town Café in Courtenay, surrounded this time by a small video on a miniscule tripod and a Smartphone, his new toys of choice, his newfound creative direction.

Wiry, sun-soaked and sandy-haired, he looks as though he’s straight from the beaches of Tofino on a long August day. One can’t help but notice a quiet alertness, as if he’s taking in the place, the room, and the people in it without acknowledging so. When he talks there is an obscure yet compelling mix of the old and the new, of tradition swirled with technology. He has the afterglow of someone living life in the moment, someone genuinely doing what they love to do.

We talk of caffeine, chords and lyrics. We joyfully juxtapose to memories of our respective youths and reel forward again to the here and now. He tells me he has a five-year-old son and that his touring days—all 10 years of them—are, for the most part, behind him. I tell him I too have a five-year-old son and somehow, without need for addition, we forge an immediate connection.

“My son is my inspiration now,” Philip says, “and so too is nature. It always will be. Nature is everything. And here in the Valley it really is all around us. ”

For Philip, his creative journey seems both an intentional and somehow accidental odyssey, a path that has seen him traverse the breadth of Canada numerous times in a loaded minivan of instruments, speakers and stands, then move to Quadra Island, and most recently, to settle in the Comox Valley.

His time on the road garnered him a reputation as one of Canada’s hardest working musicians, a moniker he is proud of. “I played over 200 shows a year when I was on the road,” he explains. “I toured with bands such as The Wailers and The Beautiful Girls and many others. I played festivals, bars, and private gatherings all over the place.”

Upon reflection he adds, “During that time I used to hire roadies to carry and set up my equipment, but it was hard for me to just sit back and watch them do it so I ended up helping out. I realized I didn’t really need them at all and they were costing me money so I wound up carrying all the equipment myself, the boxes of guitars, the amplifiers, the didgeridoos, cords and percussive instruments. It was really enough equipment for a four-piece band!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “But,” he adds with candor, “I’m trying to find more balance in my life these days—balance between family and my artistic endeavours. This is a good space.”

The music in him all started when he was a boy, when his persistent banging on the kitchen table earned him the derision of his father. “Dad just hated it,” he says. In his annoyance, the older man overlooked the creative inspiration and processes at play in his son. His Grade 7 music teacher, an accomplished guitarist, saw willingness and potential in the boy and tutored him in the art of strumming and finger-picking. At lunch-hour, Philip would wander off to the music rooms to learn about and soak in the magic of sound.

At the same time he joined the high school band, and a different teacher handed him a clarinet. She told him, “If you can’t play any wind instrument, you can just go on drums,” so he faked his awkward handling of the instrument and with a wry smile, assumed his position behind the drums. He felt at home there. He observed the senior drummer, who was in his final year of school, learned and asked questions of him, and then the following year when the senior graduated, Philip became the head drummer and was taught to read sheet music and tap along to the melodies of the entire school orchestra. “That’s where the journey started, I suppose. I was playing drums and guitar and dreaming all day about making music.”

With his musical knowledge blossoming and his curiosity bursting, he sought ways to expand his array of sounds. “I have always lived in rural places,” he says. “If I wanted a band I had to create it. So I slowly added other instruments and sounds and it just morphed into something.”

On Quadra Island one day some years later, he sat listening to a drum circle and soon one of the drummers starting to play a didgeridoo. The vibrating drone reverberated through the ground and “found a way inside” of him, he says. He points to his chest. “It hit me right here. It was both cerebral and visceral. It tingled the chromosomes.”

The earthy, almost tangible growl of the instrument captured him, and from that moment he was totally hooked. He learned to blow the thing, to circular breathe, and soon added the didgeridoo to his repertoire. “I love the way it complemented my other sounds,” he explains. “It really opened up a whole new canvas.”

As the years passed, a worldly awareness and deep appreciation of his surroundings subconsciously took a firmer hold on him. He began to write words and melodies that reflected this sense of belonging and attachment to the land. A deep social consciousness began to frame his entire work.

“We are the product of our life experiences,” he says. “I started to write about the things I was doing every day, like hiking in the woods and kayaking. It’s what I know and it’s how I live my life and it reflected itself in my music. Time alone doing these activities gave me perspective on what is important to me. My music and my lifestyle blended and become one.”

For all the guitar progressions, droning didgeridoos, thumping djembes and percussive nuances, his words and melodies about our earth stand at the forefront of his music. They have the capacity to linger long after the songs end. In fact, in some ways his songs are a call to arms, a gentle reminder to stop and take notice, to enjoy our surroundings, to treat nature with the respect and dignity it deserves, and to safeguard it for future generations.

“Seeing the world through white-water is a beautiful thing. The chaos of all this rushing water around you; the silence within that wall of sound. To be able to manoeuvre yourself on a kayak in amongst these crazy environments you really need to remain calm and focussed. It’s so energizing. When I’m writing a song, I try to make it happy, to focus on positive experiences like this without the doomsday element. The bright side of life, you know—we must be able to see the bright side of all this,” he adds.

In many ways it was a natural segue from song writing to film-clip creation, and then videography. “It’s the same creative part of the brain, making music and making movies,” Philip explains. Nowadays his musical instruments are partially boxed and stacked and in their place are the tools of his new trade—his computers and numerous video cameras, including his favoured GoPros.

He began this new direction by making film-clips for his own songs, then when he “became bored with another Shane Philip song” he branched out and began looking for new subjects. He has made music videos for other artists, for music festivals, several short documentaries, as well as working alongside local Comox Valley businesses on promotional material.

“Now I am happy to be behind the scenes,” he says. “I look for the best in other people now. It’s more gratifying. Film-making has opened doors and enabled me to meet lots of very interesting people from many walks of life. Gaining these insights has been inspiring and I hope to do a lot more of it in the future.”

Importantly, the environmental element of his work has not been forgotten. His videos often feature local flora and fauna and natural landmarks with the aid of multi-dimensional lenses, such as a fish eye perspective, which add aesthetic scope to his work.

When asked to elaborate on his motivation for doing what he does, he utters the words, “personal crusade.

“I’m just a guy who’s trying to do what he’s passionate about—music and film,” he adds. “I just do the best I can. I’m hanging on for the ride. I’ve never reached a destination. I’m always in process. It’s a journey.”

To that end he says that he feels compelled to further explore nature, to bask in the natural highs it brings him and his family, to protect it and share it with others. Whether through auditory or visual means, Philip hopes to further expose the beauty of life and revel in all it has to offer.

To learn more visit  www.shanephilip.com or www.youtube.com/shanephilipmusic

 

A video camera pans across the wide open spaces of a summer paddock. Amateur footage shows a throng of people in pants tie-dyed and jeans faded, search
hair wild and feet bare. They are moving in their own worlds to the music sounding from speakers set on each side of a makeshift stage.

Between them, sitting amongst a maelstrom of microphone stands and instruments, Shane Philip is doing what he does best. He sings and plays a weissenborn-style acoustic lap guitar, one foot kicks a driving base rhythm on a metallic pedal and the other foot bounces along to the melody. In front of him sits a handsome wood-carved djembe, and beside that a slender, serpent-like didgeridoo crests in a forked stand, the bulbous end resting an inch off the floor with a microphone waiting to capture and propel the earthy tones.

Around him is an assortment of percussive bells and shakers and cymbals, and a harmonica on a neckstand. The camera follows Philip’s fingers strum across the strings and press and release on the fret board, occasionally singing, then his mouth moving to and from the bees-waxed didgeridoo mouthpiece, all the while his eyes roaming the audience to gauge the mood and the energy of the gathering before him.

It once was a very familiar sight for Philip, a multi-instrumentalist one-man show, who possesses the sublime ability to weave such instruments and lyrics into a kind of primal, visceral force, capturing both a landscape of togetherness, goodwill, and global harmony through his words with a thumping back groove behind it.

“When I’m performing, something takes over,” he says. “I see someone in the audience respond and I go with their reaction, I try to carry it. Sometimes they drive and sometimes I drive. The energy goes two ways. That’s where the magic is.”

Cut to the present day, in a local Tin Town Café in Courtenay, surrounded this time by a small video on a miniscule tripod and a Smartphone, his new toys of choice, his newfound creative direction.

Wiry, sun-soaked and sandy-haired, he looks as though he’s straight from the beaches of Tofino on a long August day. One can’t help but notice a quiet alertness, as if he’s taking in the place, the room, and the people in it without acknowledging so. When he talks there is an obscure yet compelling mix of the old and the new, of tradition swirled with technology. He has the afterglow of someone living life in the moment, someone genuinely doing what they love to do.

We talk of caffeine, chords and lyrics. We joyfully juxtapose to memories of our respective youths and reel forward again to the here and now. He tells me he has a five-year-old son and that his touring days—all 10 years of them—are, for the most part, behind him. I tell him I too have a five-year-old son and somehow, without need for addition, we forge an immediate connection.

“My son is my inspiration now,” Philip says, “and so too is nature. It always will be. Nature is everything. And here in the Valley it really is all around us. ”

For Philip, his creative journey seems both an intentional and somehow accidental odyssey, a path that has seen him traverse the breadth of Canada numerous times in a loaded minivan of instruments, speakers and stands, then move to Quadra Island, and most recently, to settle in the Comox Valley.

His time on the road garnered him a reputation as one of Canada’s hardest working musicians, a moniker he is proud of. “I played over 200 shows a year when I was on the road,” he explains. “I toured with bands such as The Wailers and The Beautiful Girls and many others. I played festivals, bars, and private gatherings all over the place.”

Upon reflection he adds, “During that time I used to hire roadies to carry and set up my equipment, but it was hard for me to just sit back and watch them do it so I ended up helping out. I realized I didn’t really need them at all and they were costing me money so I wound up carrying all the equipment myself, the boxes of guitars, the amplifiers, the didgeridoos, cords and percussive instruments. It was really enough equipment for a four-piece band!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “But,” he adds with candor, “I’m trying to find more balance in my life these days—balance between family and my artistic endeavours. This is a good space.”

The music in him all started when he was a boy, when his persistent banging on the kitchen table earned him the derision of his father. “Dad just hated it,” he says. In his annoyance, the older man overlooked the creative inspiration and processes at play in his son. His Grade 7 music teacher, an accomplished guitarist, saw willingness and potential in the boy and tutored him in the art of strumming and finger-picking. At lunch-hour, Philip would wander off to the music rooms to learn about and soak in the magic of sound.

At the same time he joined the high school band, and a different teacher handed him a clarinet. She told him, “If you can’t play any wind instrument, you can just go on drums,” so he faked his awkward handling of the instrument and with a wry smile, assumed his position behind the drums. He felt at home there. He observed the senior drummer, who was in his final year of school, learned and asked questions of him, and then the following year when the senior graduated, Philip became the head drummer and was taught to read sheet music and tap along to the melodies of the entire school orchestra. “That’s where the journey started, I suppose. I was playing drums and guitar and dreaming all day about making music.”

With his musical knowledge blossoming and his curiosity bursting, he sought ways to expand his array of sounds. “I have always lived in rural places,” he says. “If I wanted a band I had to create it. So I slowly added other instruments and sounds and it just morphed into something.”

On Quadra Island one day some years later, he sat listening to a drum circle and soon one of the drummers starting to play a didgeridoo. The vibrating drone reverberated through the ground and “found a way inside” of him, he says. He points to his chest. “It hit me right here. It was both cerebral and visceral. It tingled the chromosomes.”

The earthy, almost tangible growl of the instrument captured him, and from that moment he was totally hooked. He learned to blow the thing, to circular breathe, and soon added the didgeridoo to his repertoire. “I love the way it complemented my other sounds,” he explains. “It really opened up a whole new canvas.”

 

As the years passed, a worldly awareness and deep appreciation of his surroundings subconsciously took a firmer hold on him. He began to write words and melodies that reflected this sense of belonging and attachment to the land. A deep social consciousness began to frame his entire work.

“We are the product of our life experiences,” he says. “I started to write about the things I was doing every day, like hiking in the woods and kayaking. It’s what I know and it’s how I live my life and it reflected itself in my music. Time alone doing these activities gave me perspective on what is important to me. My music and my lifestyle blended and become one.”

For all the guitar progressions, droning didgeridoos, thumping djembes and percussive nuances, his words and melodies about our earth stand at the forefront of his music. They have the capacity to linger long after the songs end. In fact, in some ways his songs are a call to arms, a gentle reminder to stop and take notice, to enjoy our surroundings, to treat nature with the respect and dignity it deserves, and to safeguard it for future generations.

“Seeing the world through white-water is a beautiful thing. The chaos of all this rushing water around you; the silence within that wall of sound. To be able to manoeuvre yourself on a kayak in amongst these crazy environments you really need to remain calm and focussed. It’s so energizing. When I’m writing a song, I try to make it happy, to focus on positive experiences like this without the doomsday element. The bright side of life, you know—we must be able to see the bright side of all this,” he adds.

In many ways it was a natural segue from song writing to film-clip creation, and then videography. “It’s the same creative part of the brain, making music and making movies,” Philip explains. Nowadays his musical instruments are partially boxed and stacked and in their place are the tools of his new trade—his computers and numerous video cameras, including his favoured GoPros.

He began this new direction by making film-clips for his own songs, then when he “became bored with another Shane Philip song” he branched out and began looking for new subjects. He has made music videos for other artists, for music festivals, several short documentaries, as well as working alongside local Comox Valley businesses on promotional material.

“Now I am happy to be behind the scenes,” he says. “I look for the best in other people now. It’s more gratifying. Film-making has opened doors and enabled me to meet lots of very interesting people from many walks of life. Gaining these insights has been inspiring and I hope to do a lot more of it in the future.”

Importantly, the environmental element of his work has not been forgotten. His videos often feature local flora and fauna and natural landmarks with the aid of multi-dimensional lenses, such as a fish eye perspective, which add aesthetic scope to his work.

When asked to elaborate on his motivation for doing what he does, he utters the words, “personal crusade.

“I’m just a guy who’s trying to do what he’s passionate about—music and film,” he adds. “I just do the best I can. I’m hanging on for the ride. I’ve never reached a destination. I’m always in process. It’s a journey.”

To that end he says that he feels compelled to further explore nature, to bask in the natural highs it brings him and his family, to protect it and share it with others. Whether through auditory or visual means, Philip hopes to further expose the beauty of life and revel in all it has to offer.

To learn more visit  www.shanephilip.com or www.youtube.com/shanephilipmusic

 

A video camera pans across the wide open spaces of a summer paddock. Amateur footage shows a throng of people in pants tie-dyed and jeans faded, hair wild and feet bare. They are moving in their own worlds to the music sounding from speakers set on each side of a makeshift stage.

Between them, sitting amongst a maelstrom of microphone stands and instruments, Shane Philip is doing what he does best. He sings and plays a weissenborn-style acoustic lap guitar, one foot kicks a driving base rhythm on a metallic pedal and the other foot bounces along to the melody. In front of him sits a handsome wood-carved djembe, and beside that a slender, serpent-like didgeridoo crests in a forked stand, the bulbous end resting an inch off the floor with a microphone waiting to capture and propel the earthy tones.

Around him is an assortment of percussive bells and shakers and cymbals, and a harmonica on a neckstand. The camera follows Philip’s fingers strum across the strings and press and release on the fret board, occasionally singing, then his mouth moving to and from the bees-waxed didgeridoo mouthpiece, all the while his eyes roaming the audience to gauge the mood and the energy of the gathering before him.

It once was a very familiar sight for Philip, a multi-instrumentalist one-man show, who possesses the sublime ability to weave such instruments and lyrics into a kind of primal, visceral force, capturing both a landscape of togetherness, goodwill, and global harmony through his words with a thumping back groove behind it.

“When I’m performing, something takes over,” he says. “I see someone in the audience respond and I go with their reaction, I try to carry it. Sometimes they drive and sometimes I drive. The energy goes two ways. That’s where the magic is.”

Cut to the present day, in a local Tin Town Café in Courtenay, surrounded this time by a small video on a miniscule tripod and a Smartphone, his new toys of choice, his newfound creative direction.

Wiry, sun-soaked and sandy-haired, he looks as though he’s straight from the beaches of Tofino on a long August day. One can’t help but notice a quiet alertness, as if he’s taking in the place, the room, and the people in it without acknowledging so. When he talks there is an obscure yet compelling mix of the old and the new, of tradition swirled with technology. He has the afterglow of someone living life in the moment, someone genuinely doing what they love to do.

We talk of caffeine, chords and lyrics. We joyfully juxtapose to memories of our respective youths and reel forward again to the here and now. He tells me he has a five-year-old son and that his touring days—all 10 years of them—are, for the most part, behind him. I tell him I too have a five-year-old son and somehow, without need for addition, we forge an immediate connection.

“My son is my inspiration now,” Philip says, “and so too is nature. It always will be. Nature is everything. And here in the Valley it really is all around us. ”

For Philip, his creative journey seems both an intentional and somehow accidental odyssey, a path that has seen him traverse the breadth of Canada numerous times in a loaded minivan of instruments, speakers and stands, then move to Quadra Island, and most recently, to settle in the Comox Valley.

His time on the road garnered him a reputation as one of Canada’s hardest working musicians, a moniker he is proud of. “I played over 200 shows a year when I was on the road,” he explains. “I toured with bands such as The Wailers and The Beautiful Girls and many others. I played festivals, bars, and private gatherings all over the place.”

Upon reflection he adds, “During that time I used to hire roadies to carry and set up my equipment, but it was hard for me to just sit back and watch them do it so I ended up helping out. I realized I didn’t really need them at all and they were costing me money so I wound up carrying all the equipment myself, the boxes of guitars, the amplifiers, the didgeridoos, cords and percussive instruments. It was really enough equipment for a four-piece band!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “But,” he adds with candor, “I’m trying to find more balance in my life these days—balance between family and my artistic endeavours. This is a good space.”

The music in him all started when he was a boy, when his persistent banging on the kitchen table earned him the derision of his father. “Dad just hated it,” he says. In his annoyance, the older man overlooked the creative inspiration and processes at play in his son. His Grade 7 music teacher, an accomplished guitarist, saw willingness and potential in the boy and tutored him in the art of strumming and finger-picking. At lunch-hour, Philip would wander off to the music rooms to learn about and soak in the magic of sound.

At the same time he joined the high school band, and a different teacher handed him a clarinet. She told him, “If you can’t play any wind instrument, you can just go on drums,” so he faked his awkward handling of the instrument and with a wry smile, assumed his position behind the drums. He felt at home there. He observed the senior drummer, who was in his final year of school, learned and asked questions of him, and then the following year when the senior graduated, Philip became the head drummer and was taught to read sheet music and tap along to the melodies of the entire school orchestra. “That’s where the journey started, I suppose. I was playing drums and guitar and dreaming all day about making music.”

With his musical knowledge blossoming and his curiosity bursting, he sought ways to expand his array of sounds. “I have always lived in rural places,” he says. “If I wanted a band I had to create it. So I slowly added other instruments and sounds and it just morphed into something.”

On Quadra Island one day some years later, he sat listening to a drum circle and soon one of the drummers starting to play a didgeridoo. The vibrating drone reverberated through the ground and “found a way inside” of him, he says. He points to his chest. “It hit me right here. It was both cerebral and visceral. It tingled the chromosomes.”

The earthy, almost tangible growl of the instrument captured him, and from that moment he was totally hooked. He learned to blow the thing, to circular breathe, and soon added the didgeridoo to his repertoire. “I love the way it complemented my other sounds,” he explains. “It really opened up a whole new canvas.”

As the years passed, a worldly awareness and deep appreciation of his surroundings subconsciously took a firmer hold on him. He began to write words and melodies that reflected this sense of belonging and attachment to the land. A deep social consciousness began to frame his entire work.

“We are the product of our life experiences,” he says. “I started to write about the things I was doing every day, like hiking in the woods and kayaking. It’s what I know and it’s how I live my life and it reflected itself in my music. Time alone doing these activities gave me perspective on what is important to me. My music and my lifestyle blended and become one.”

For all the guitar progressions, droning didgeridoos, thumping djembes and percussive nuances, his words and melodies about our earth stand at the forefront of his music. They have the capacity to linger long after the songs end. In fact, in some ways his songs are a call to arms, a gentle reminder to stop and take notice, to enjoy our surroundings, to treat nature with the respect and dignity it deserves, and to safeguard it for future generations.

“Seeing the world through white-water is a beautiful thing. The chaos of all this rushing water around you; the silence within that wall of sound. To be able to manoeuvre yourself on a kayak in amongst these crazy environments you really need to remain calm and focussed. It’s so energizing. When I’m writing a song, I try to make it happy, to focus on positive experiences like this without the doomsday element. The bright side of life, you know—we must be able to see the bright side of all this,” he adds.

In many ways it was a natural segue from song writing to film-clip creation, and then videography. “It’s the same creative part of the brain, making music and making movies,” Philip explains. Nowadays his musical instruments are partially boxed and stacked and in their place are the tools of his new trade—his computers and numerous video cameras, including his favoured GoPros.

He began this new direction by making film-clips for his own songs, then when he “became bored with another Shane Philip song” he branched out and began looking for new subjects. He has made music videos for other artists, for music festivals, several short documentaries, as well as working alongside local Comox Valley businesses on promotional material.

“Now I am happy to be behind the scenes,” he says. “I look for the best in other people now. It’s more gratifying. Film-making has opened doors and enabled me to meet lots of very interesting people from many walks of life. Gaining these insights has been inspiring and I hope to do a lot more of it in the future.”

Importantly, the environmental element of his work has not been forgotten. His videos often feature local flora and fauna and natural landmarks with the aid of multi-dimensional lenses, such as a fish eye perspective, which add aesthetic scope to his work.

When asked to elaborate on his motivation for doing what he does, he utters the words, “personal crusade.

“I’m just a guy who’s trying to do what he’s passionate about—music and film,” he adds. “I just do the best I can. I’m hanging on for the ride. I’ve never reached a destination. I’m always in process. It’s a journey.”

To that end he says that he feels compelled to further explore nature, to bask in the natural highs it brings him and his family, to protect it and share it with others. Whether through auditory or visual means, Philip hopes to further expose the beauty of life and revel in all it has to offer.

To learn more visit  www.shanephilip.com or www.youtube.com/shanephilipmusic

 

When most people think of screen printing, what likely comes to mind are common goods such as T-shirts, cloth bags or art prints. But according to Andy MacDougall, local yet world-renowned screen printing guru, screen printing is about much more than textiles or art. Considered the world’s most versatile print medium, screen printing is futuristic and present in most electronic consumer products. And knowledge of this not so humble form of printing may be just what some of our youth need to secure them a solid future, either as an artist or working in the high-tech manufacturing sector.

Also known as silk screening, screen printing is a 2,000 year old form of printing that was first used by the Chinese, specifically the Sung dynasty period of around 12 BC. Screen printing simply involves the passing of ink or any other printing medium through a mesh or screen that has been stretched on a frame, to which a stencil has been previously applied. The stencil openings determine the image that will be imprinted. The simplicity of screen printing makes it more versatile than traditional printing techniques. The screen printed surface does not have to be printed under pressure and different inks can be used to work with a variety of materials. As a result, screen printing is used in many different industries, including medical devices and printed electronics such as circuit boards.

This morning you probably used several electronic devices that were created using screen printed technology. When your Smartphone woke you up the touch screen you swiped to turn off the alarm was screen printed using special photosensitive inks. The control panel on the microwave oven that heated your coffee was also screen printed. And so was the de-fog apparatus on your car’s back window. Screen printing is perfect for manufacturing high-tech components because it allows the printing of fine wiring so tiny it is a fraction of the diameter of a single human hair.

“Screen printing is arguably the most versatile printing process and is used by many sectors of industry and society,” says MacDougall. “It is used to print graphic images on a wide variety of materials, including paper, plastics, glass, metals, fabrics, wood and many other materials. Essentially, screen printing is present in most consumer products. The paradox of screen printing is its basic simplicity at one level, and its exotic manufacturing capabilities at another.”

Screen printing may even play a part of our energy crisis solution. “Screen printing is an integral part of the manufacturing process for many types of ‘future’ energy systems, including solar panels and hydrogen or other types of fuel cells,” MacDougall says.

“For example, in Vancouver, Ballard Fuel Cells and partners Mercedes and Ford all run research facilities utilizing screen printing for development of futuristic fuel products.”

Clearly, screen printing is no longer a fringe process. In fact, some experts place the value of screen printed products at $9 trillion annually. The Smartphone industry alone represented a $66 billion industry in North America in 2012. “I’d say a rebirth is going on,” says MacDougall.

Considering the high-tech uses of screen printing these days, some could call MacDougall a visionary. MacDougall began work in the screen printing industry in 1979. “After I learned the ropes I ran a print shop in Vancouver from ‘84 to ‘93,” recalls MacDougall. MacDougall’s shop printed material for corporations like Chevron, such as signage and other promotional material. During those early years MacDougall also began printing North West Coastal Art.

“I really enjoyed printing the art because the art was always appreciated. It was printed to be kept and enjoyed forever, unlike my corporate clients who expected their signage to be tossed away after the promotion was over,” he says with a laugh.

Over the years MacDougall helped screen printing in British Columbia grow into a vibrant industry. He printed many firsts, such as the first Kevlar hockey sticks, the first plastic satellite dishes, and MacDougall was the first in Western Canada to print computer disks.

Eventually, MacDougall decided he’d had enough of the corporate world and the big city. He moved to Royston where he could use water based inks exclusively and experiment with solar exposure. He created a small studio and teaching facility called Squeegeeville that now attracts students from across North America and as far away as China.

MacDougall also wrote the influential how-to text, Screenprinting Today – The Basics. This popular training manual for beginner and intermediate students of screen printing is currently known as the ‘bible’ of screen printing and is used around the globe. In addition, MacDougall, along with Swiss author Guido Lengwiler, has just recently completed the 500 page, fully-illustrated History of Screenprinting.

MacDougall is considered a master of screen printing technology and is sought after by organizations and corporations for his expertise. He regularly travels to Europe and the United States to set up design spaces and print shops in colleges and universities. In addition, corporations such as Nike and Facebook have asked his advice when creating print facilities.

“Nike called because they needed me to help them build an in-house screen printing studio for their designers. In the end I helped them set up a 6,000 square foot ‘maker lab’ at the Nike Portland Campus.” Closer to home, MacDougall was instrumental in helping North Island College create their new TexMakerLab, where he will also teach courses.

MacDougall enjoys a fascinating and rewarding career in screen printing, and now he’d like to make it possible for the youth of the Comox Valley to do the same.

Specifically, MacDougall’s new passion is encouraging the craft maker movement, particularly among First Nation youth. “This is going to be my focus,” he says. “But it’s not just about art—it’s about entrepreneurship and learning a craft that is in demand both with art and technology.”

In 2013, with the help of local First Nation artist Andy Everson and the Comox Valley Art Gallery, MacDougall teamed up with the Wachiay Friendship Centre in Courtenay to establish a screen printing studio that would support young artists as well as the creative spirit. Specifically, the Wachiay Youth Screen Printing Project was created to introduce local youth to the basics of Coastal First Nation art styles, and to assist them as they create limited edition prints and decorate T-shirts using the screen printing process. The initial program was a great success.

The next phase took place during the summer and fall of 2014. This phase introduced the core group of students to an entrepreneurial and business component of design and screen printing skills.

“In order to explore the roles and requirements within a production based design company, the students collaboratively created a social enterprise called One Tribe Design and Screenprinting,” explains MacDougall.

“They planned, built, stocked and staffed a mobile screen printing booth at local events and festivals in the Comox Valley. They also hosted visiting groups of local school children who learned about printmaking while printing their own garments.”

MacDougall believes that programs such as these can be an avenue for youth to enter into an industry that can provide a rewarding and lucrative career. “One of the biggest hurdles screen printing as an industry faces, in North America and worldwide, is finding trained workers in order to use it properly and efficiently,” he says.

“Any push to increase hi-tech onshore manufacturing ability and increase productivity in North America will require trained screen printers familiar and able to operate the range of automated equipment used in modern printing and manufacturing facilities. Solar and fuel cells, nano particle applications, touch screen and electronic controls on all consumer electronics, paper batteries, electronic paper, surface mount technologies—they all require screen printing.”

The Wachiay Screen Printing lab will also be a place for budding artists to practice their trade and learn the necessary skills to produce and market their work. At Wachiay, the younger artists will get to work with the established artists—a master and apprentice relationship. In addition, the program will introduce important business concepts, such as production scheduling, inventory control and marketing.

“We want to use the skills of the masters to mentor the younger artists. At the Wachiay lab, we will provide training and employment to our young artists. We will act as publishers for them too. It’s tough for the younger artists these days. How does one get a start? I think it’s about perspiration and talent. The incubator is where it happens, and Wachiay will be that incubator.”

Many people had a hand in helping this foundational program to get started. “It wouldn’t have been possible without the help of people like Andy Everson and Wachiay employees Erin Brillon and Liz Murdoch,” MacDougall says. “They’ve been with the program since the start, and are integral to its continuing success.”

The program has also received the attention and support of groups from around the world and closer to home.

“We’ve received assistance from the BC Arts Council, the First People’s Cultural Council, the Community Justice Centre, and corporate support from Speedball Art Products of Statesville, North Carolina, Sefar USA of Buffalo, NY, and Fimor of LeMans, France. All these people are excited about what we’re doing here.” Support and encouragement are also offered by SD71, since high school students enrolled in the program are awarded credits for the course.

This year a new group of students was able to attend the popular after school program at Wachiay, and the current group of designers and printers who make up the One Tribe Collective were able to mentor the new students and share their skills with elders and people of all ages who want to learn screen printing design.

“The Wachiay lab is a facility where people can experiment with their ideas,” MacDougall says.

“I believe that the young artist pulling prints through a home-made screen on their kitchen table, and the scientist or engineer creating new energy systems using the technology of screen printing have much more than a squeegee in common. I’m interested in what happens when we bring them together, and everything in between. Who knows what can come of this?”

For more information on Andy MacDougall, visit www.squeegeeville.com. For course information call 250-334-5005.

For more information on One Tribe and the screen printing programs at Wachiay Friendship Centre, call 250 338-7793 or visit the One Tribe Facebook page at www.facebook.com/Screenprintingatwachiay

 
When most people think of screen printing, population health
what likely comes to mind are common goods such as T-shirts, web
cloth bags or art prints. But according to Andy MacDougall, and
local yet world-renowned screen printing guru, screen printing is about much more than textiles or art. Considered the world’s most versatile print medium, screen printing is futuristic and present in most electronic consumer products. And knowledge of this not so humble form of printing may be just what some of our youth need to secure them a solid future, either as an artist or working in the high-tech manufacturing sector.

Also known as silk screening, screen printing is a 2,000 year old form of printing that was first used by the Chinese, specifically the Sung dynasty period of around 12 BC. Screen printing simply involves the passing of ink or any other printing medium through a mesh or screen that has been stretched on a frame, to which a stencil has been previously applied. The stencil openings determine the image that will be imprinted. The simplicity of screen printing makes it more versatile than traditional printing techniques. The screen printed surface does not have to be printed under pressure and different inks can be used to work with a variety of materials. As a result, screen printing is used in many different industries, including medical devices and printed electronics such as circuit boards.

This morning you probably used several electronic devices that were created using screen printed technology. When your Smartphone woke you up the touch screen you swiped to turn off the alarm was screen printed using special photosensitive inks. The control panel on the microwave oven that heated your coffee was also screen printed. And so was the de-fog apparatus on your car’s back window. Screen printing is perfect for manufacturing high-tech components because it allows the printing of fine wiring so tiny it is a fraction of the diameter of a single human hair.

“Screen printing is arguably the most versatile printing process and is used by many sectors of industry and society,” says MacDougall. “It is used to print graphic images on a wide variety of materials, including paper, plastics, glass, metals, fabrics, wood and many other materials. Essentially, screen printing is present in most consumer products. The paradox of screen printing is its basic simplicity at one level, and its exotic manufacturing capabilities at another.”

Screen printing may even play a part of our energy crisis solution. “Screen printing is an integral part of the manufacturing process for many types of ‘future’ energy systems, including solar panels and hydrogen or other types of fuel cells,” MacDougall says.

“For example, in Vancouver, Ballard Fuel Cells and partners Mercedes and Ford all run research facilities utilizing screen printing for development of futuristic fuel products.”

Clearly, screen printing is no longer a fringe process. In fact, some experts place the value of screen printed products at $9 trillion annually. The Smartphone industry alone represented a $66 billion industry in North America in 2012. “I’d say a rebirth is going on,” says MacDougall.

Considering the high-tech uses of screen printing these days, some could call MacDougall a visionary. MacDougall began work in the screen printing industry in 1979. “After I learned the ropes I ran a print shop in Vancouver from ‘84 to ‘93,” recalls MacDougall. MacDougall’s shop printed material for corporations like Chevron, such as signage and other promotional material. During those early years MacDougall also began printing North West Coastal Art.

“I really enjoyed printing the art because the art was always appreciated. It was printed to be kept and enjoyed forever, unlike my corporate clients who expected their signage to be tossed away after the promotion was over,” he says with a laugh.

Over the years MacDougall helped screen printing in British Columbia grow into a vibrant industry. He printed many firsts, such as the first Kevlar hockey sticks, the first plastic satellite dishes, and MacDougall was the first in Western Canada to print computer disks.

Eventually, MacDougall decided he’d had enough of the corporate world and the big city. He moved to Royston where he could use water based inks exclusively and experiment with solar exposure. He created a small studio and teaching facility called Squeegeeville that now attracts students from across North America and as far away as China.

MacDougall also wrote the influential how-to text, Screenprinting Today – The Basics. This popular training manual for beginner and intermediate students of screen printing is currently known as the ‘bible’ of screen printing and is used around the globe. In addition, MacDougall, along with Swiss author Guido Lengwiler, has just recently completed the 500 page, fully-illustrated History of Screenprinting.

MacDougall is considered a master of screen printing technology and is sought after by organizations and corporations for his expertise. He regularly travels to Europe and the United States to set up design spaces and print shops in colleges and universities. In addition, corporations such as Nike and Facebook have asked his advice when creating print facilities.

“Nike called because they needed me to help them build an in-house screen printing studio for their designers. In the end I helped them set up a 6,000 square foot ‘maker lab’ at the Nike Portland Campus.” Closer to home, MacDougall was instrumental in helping North Island College create their new TexMakerLab, where he will also teach courses.

MacDougall enjoys a fascinating and rewarding career in screen printing, and now he’d like to make it possible for the youth of the Comox Valley to do the same.

Specifically, MacDougall’s new passion is encouraging the craft maker movement, particularly among First Nation youth. “This is going to be my focus,” he says. “But it’s not just about art—it’s about entrepreneurship and learning a craft that is in demand both with art and technology.”

In 2013, with the help of local First Nation artist Andy Everson and the Comox Valley Art Gallery, MacDougall teamed up with the Wachiay Friendship Centre in Courtenay to establish a screen printing studio that would support young artists as well as the creative spirit. Specifically, the Wachiay Youth Screen Printing Project was created to introduce local youth to the basics of Coastal First Nation art styles, and to assist them as they create limited edition prints and decorate T-shirts using the screen printing process. The initial program was a great success.

The next phase took place during the summer and fall of 2014. This phase introduced the core group of students to an entrepreneurial and business component of design and screen printing skills.

“In order to explore the roles and requirements within a production based design company, the students collaboratively created a social enterprise called One Tribe Design and Screenprinting,” explains MacDougall.

“They planned, built, stocked and staffed a mobile screen printing booth at local events and festivals in the Comox Valley. They also hosted visiting groups of local school children who learned about printmaking while printing their own garments.”

MacDougall believes that programs such as these can be an avenue for youth to enter into an industry that can provide a rewarding and lucrative career. “One of the biggest hurdles screen printing as an industry faces, in North America and worldwide, is finding trained workers in order to use it properly and efficiently,” he says.

“Any push to increase hi-tech onshore manufacturing ability and increase productivity in North America will require trained screen printers familiar and able to operate the range of automated equipment used in modern printing and manufacturing facilities. Solar and fuel cells, nano particle applications, touch screen and electronic controls on all consumer electronics, paper batteries, electronic paper, surface mount technologies—they all require screen printing.”

The Wachiay Screen Printing lab will also be a place for budding artists to practice their trade and learn the necessary skills to produce and market their work. At Wachiay, the younger artists will get to work with the established artists—a master and apprentice relationship. In addition, the program will introduce important business concepts, such as production scheduling, inventory control and marketing.

“We want to use the skills of the masters to mentor the younger artists. At the Wachiay lab, we will provide training and employment to our young artists. We will act as publishers for them too. It’s tough for the younger artists these days. How does one get a start? I think it’s about perspiration and talent. The incubator is where it happens, and Wachiay will be that incubator.”

Many people had a hand in helping this foundational program to get started. “It wouldn’t have been possible without the help of people like Andy Everson and Wachiay employees Erin Brillon and Liz Murdoch,” MacDougall says. “They’ve been with the program since the start, and are integral to its continuing success.”

The program has also received the attention and support of groups from around the world and closer to home.

“We’ve received assistance from the BC Arts Council, the First People’s Cultural Council, the Community Justice Centre, and corporate support from Speedball Art Products of Statesville, North Carolina, Sefar USA of Buffalo, NY, and Fimor of LeMans, France. All these people are excited about what we’re doing here.” Support and encouragement are also offered by SD71, since high school students enrolled in the program are awarded credits for the course.

This year a new group of students was able to attend the popular after school program at Wachiay, and the current group of designers and printers who make up the One Tribe Collective were able to mentor the new students and share their skills with elders and people of all ages who want to learn screen printing design.

“The Wachiay lab is a facility where people can experiment with their ideas,” MacDougall says.

“I believe that the young artist pulling prints through a home-made screen on their kitchen table, and the scientist or engineer creating new energy systems using the technology of screen printing have much more than a squeegee in common. I’m interested in what happens when we bring them together, and everything in between. Who knows what can come of this?”

For more information on Andy MacDougall, visit www.squeegeeville.com. For course information call 250-334-5005.

For more information on One Tribe and the screen printing programs at Wachiay Friendship Centre, call 250 338-7793 or visit the One Tribe Facebook page at www.facebook.com/Screenprintingatwachiay

 

When most people think of screen printing, what likely comes to mind are common goods such as T-shirts, cloth bags or art prints. But according to Andy MacDougall, local yet world-renowned screen printing guru, screen printing is about much more than textiles or art. Considered the world’s most versatile print medium, screen printing is futuristic and present in most electronic consumer products. And knowledge of this not so humble form of printing may be just what some of our youth need to secure them a solid future, either as an artist or working in the high-tech manufacturing sector.

Also known as silk screening, screen printing is a 2,000 year old form of printing that was first used by the Chinese, specifically the Sung dynasty period of around 12 BC. Screen printing simply involves the passing of ink or any other printing medium through a mesh or screen that has been stretched on a frame, to which a stencil has been previously applied. The stencil openings determine the image that will be imprinted. The simplicity of screen printing makes it more versatile than traditional printing techniques. The screen printed surface does not have to be printed under pressure and different inks can be used to work with a variety of materials. As a result, screen printing is used in many different industries, including medical devices and printed electronics such as circuit boards.

This morning you probably used several electronic devices that were created using screen printed technology. When your Smartphone woke you up the touch screen you swiped to turn off the alarm was screen printed using special photosensitive inks. The control panel on the microwave oven that heated your coffee was also screen printed. And so was the de-fog apparatus on your car’s back window. Screen printing is perfect for manufacturing high-tech components because it allows the printing of fine wiring so tiny it is a fraction of the diameter of a single human hair.

“Screen printing is arguably the most versatile printing process and is used by many sectors of industry and society,” says MacDougall. “It is used to print graphic images on a wide variety of materials, including paper, plastics, glass, metals, fabrics, wood and many other materials. Essentially, screen printing is present in most consumer products. The paradox of screen printing is its basic simplicity at one level, and its exotic manufacturing capabilities at another.”

Screen printing may even play a part of our energy crisis solution. “Screen printing is an integral part of the manufacturing process for many types of ‘future’ energy systems, including solar panels and hydrogen or other types of fuel cells,” MacDougall says.

“For example, in Vancouver, Ballard Fuel Cells and partners Mercedes and Ford all run research facilities utilizing screen printing for development of futuristic fuel products.”

Clearly, screen printing is no longer a fringe process. In fact, some experts place the value of screen printed products at $9 trillion annually. The Smartphone industry alone represented a $66 billion industry in North America in 2012. “I’d say a rebirth is going on,” says MacDougall.

Considering the high-tech uses of screen printing these days, some could call MacDougall a visionary. MacDougall began work in the screen printing industry in 1979. “After I learned the ropes I ran a print shop in Vancouver from ‘84 to ‘93,” recalls MacDougall. MacDougall’s shop printed material for corporations like Chevron, such as signage and other promotional material. During those early years MacDougall also began printing North West Coastal Art.

“I really enjoyed printing the art because the art was always appreciated. It was printed to be kept and enjoyed forever, unlike my corporate clients who expected their signage to be tossed away after the promotion was over,” he says with a laugh.

Over the years MacDougall helped screen printing in British Columbia grow into a vibrant industry. He printed many firsts, such as the first Kevlar hockey sticks, the first plastic satellite dishes, and MacDougall was the first in Western Canada to print computer disks.

Eventually, MacDougall decided he’d had enough of the corporate world and the big city. He moved to Royston where he could use water based inks exclusively and experiment with solar exposure. He created a small studio and teaching facility called Squeegeeville that now attracts students from across North America and as far away as China.

MacDougall also wrote the influential how-to text, Screenprinting Today – The Basics. This popular training manual for beginner and intermediate students of screen printing is currently known as the ‘bible’ of screen printing and is used around the globe. In addition, MacDougall, along with Swiss author Guido Lengwiler, has just recently completed the 500 page, fully-illustrated History of Screenprinting.

MacDougall is considered a master of screen printing technology and is sought after by organizations and corporations for his expertise. He regularly travels to Europe and the United States to set up design spaces and print shops in colleges and universities. In addition, corporations such as Nike and Facebook have asked his advice when creating print facilities.

“Nike called because they needed me to help them build an in-house screen printing studio for their designers. In the end I helped them set up a 6,000 square foot ‘maker lab’ at the Nike Portland Campus.” Closer to home, MacDougall was instrumental in helping North Island College create their new TexMakerLab, where he will also teach courses.

MacDougall enjoys a fascinating and rewarding career in screen printing, and now he’d like to make it possible for the youth of the Comox Valley to do the same.

Specifically, MacDougall’s new passion is encouraging the craft maker movement, particularly among First Nation youth. “This is going to be my focus,” he says. “But it’s not just about art—it’s about entrepreneurship and learning a craft that is in demand both with art and technology.”

In 2013, with the help of local First Nation artist Andy Everson and the Comox Valley Art Gallery, MacDougall teamed up with the Wachiay Friendship Centre in Courtenay to establish a screen printing studio that would support young artists as well as the creative spirit. Specifically, the Wachiay Youth Screen Printing Project was created to introduce local youth to the basics of Coastal First Nation art styles, and to assist them as they create limited edition prints and decorate T-shirts using the screen printing process. The initial program was a great success.

The next phase took place during the summer and fall of 2014. This phase introduced the core group of students to an entrepreneurial and business component of design and screen printing skills.

“In order to explore the roles and requirements within a production based design company, the students collaboratively created a social enterprise called One Tribe Design and Screenprinting,” explains MacDougall.

“They planned, built, stocked and staffed a mobile screen printing booth at local events and festivals in the Comox Valley. They also hosted visiting groups of local school children who learned about printmaking while printing their own garments.”

MacDougall believes that programs such as these can be an avenue for youth to enter into an industry that can provide a rewarding and lucrative career. “One of the biggest hurdles screen printing as an industry faces, in North America and worldwide, is finding trained workers in order to use it properly and efficiently,” he says.

“Any push to increase hi-tech onshore manufacturing ability and increase productivity in North America will require trained screen printers familiar and able to operate the range of automated equipment used in modern printing and manufacturing facilities. Solar and fuel cells, nano particle applications, touch screen and electronic controls on all consumer electronics, paper batteries, electronic paper, surface mount technologies—they all require screen printing.”

The Wachiay Screen Printing lab will also be a place for budding artists to practice their trade and learn the necessary skills to produce and market their work. At Wachiay, the younger artists will get to work with the established artists—a master and apprentice relationship. In addition, the program will introduce important business concepts, such as production scheduling, inventory control and marketing.

“We want to use the skills of the masters to mentor the younger artists. At the Wachiay lab, we will provide training and employment to our young artists. We will act as publishers for them too. It’s tough for the younger artists these days. How does one get a start? I think it’s about perspiration and talent. The incubator is where it happens, and Wachiay will be that incubator.”

Many people had a hand in helping this foundational program to get started. “It wouldn’t have been possible without the help of people like Andy Everson and Wachiay employees Erin Brillon and Liz Murdoch,” MacDougall says. “They’ve been with the program since the start, and are integral to its continuing success.”

The program has also received the attention and support of groups from around the world and closer to home.

“We’ve received assistance from the BC Arts Council, the First People’s Cultural Council, the Community Justice Centre, and corporate support from Speedball Art Products of Statesville, North Carolina, Sefar USA of Buffalo, NY, and Fimor of LeMans, France. All these people are excited about what we’re doing here.” Support and encouragement are also offered by SD71, since high school students enrolled in the program are awarded credits for the course.

This year a new group of students was able to attend the popular after school program at Wachiay, and the current group of designers and printers who make up the One Tribe Collective were able to mentor the new students and share their skills with elders and people of all ages who want to learn screen printing design.

“The Wachiay lab is a facility where people can experiment with their ideas,” MacDougall says.

“I believe that the young artist pulling prints through a home-made screen on their kitchen table, and the scientist or engineer creating new energy systems using the technology of screen printing have much more than a squeegee in common. I’m interested in what happens when we bring them together, and everything in between. Who knows what can come of this?”

For more information on Andy MacDougall, visit www.squeegeeville.com. For course information call 250-334-5005.

For more information on One Tribe and the screen printing programs at Wachiay Friendship Centre, call 250 338-7793 or visit the One Tribe Facebook page at www.facebook.com/Screenprintingatwachiay

 

The Comox Valley is arguably one of the most peaceful places on earth. In our ‘land of plenty,’ we have a functioning judicial and law enforcement system, an array of formal and informal support systems, and a relatively stable society. But we still have conflicts. We have bar fights, child custody battles, and heated arguments about parking. We have disputes over dogs, property lines, money, sexual conduct, language, environmental issues, workplace relations and much more. And although we mostly manage our conflicts pretty well, they are often messy, sometimes expensive, and always demanding.

Can we even imagine how conflict would play out in Rwanda, a country still unhealed from a brutal genocide 20 years ago that took the lives of an estimated 1,000,000 people? A country where your neighbor may be the person responsible for the murder of your whole family; where the legal, educational and economic systems are in disarray; where genocide has left a legacy of refugees, orphans, AIDS, and demolished villages, as well as psychological scars and social divides too deep for most of us to comprehend? Can we even begin to wrap our heads around the levels of pain and anger, and the potential for violence?

If there’s anyone in the Comox Valley who can say yes to that question, it’s professional mediator George Brose. Brose has become intimately familiar with the contours of conflict in post-genocide Rwanda through his experience as founder of The Rwanda Mediation Project, a program that provides mediation training in Africa.

Brose offers an example of how high the stakes are in Rwanda: “You get a pastoral group herding cattle and the cattle destroy someone’s crops, so there’s a conflict, and then boom—someone gets killed. If it’s a remote area, there’s no access to a police force or the courts. You can fight a small war… or you can come to the table and mediate it.”

Brose and colleague Adrian Symonds, a Comox Valley parent-teen mediator, are currently raising funds to spend the month of August in Rwanda offering training. This will be the fifth such trip for Brose, and the first for Symonds. When the two of them fly home, they’ll leave behind a team of 100 trained mediators who will provide village-level on-the-ground peaceful conflict resolution in their communities.

Both men donate all the time they spend on this project—an intense full-time month in Africa, and countless hours here at home organizing and fundraising. But when they speak about the work, they talk not about what they are giving, but what they are receiving; not about how grim the Rwandan situation is, but rather about how it inspires them.

“I started out motivated by curiosity,” Brose explains. He wanted to learn how, with the weight of a horrifically violent history resting so heavily on them, Rwandans could manage conflict without genocide re-occurring. What he saw moved him deeply.

“I saw that it was possible to survive not just physically but also psychologically. I saw forgiveness. Seeing all that—you end up feeling awe.

“For instance, one of the guys I trained as a mediator in Rwanda told me he’d lost 43 members of his family during the genocide. It lasted 100 days, the genocide. During that time he hid in a swamp. He’d come out at night and forage for food. He lost his wife and kids and many others. After peace was made he was so consumed by hatred it was killing him. After three or four years of this he went to the prison where the guys who had killed his family were and asked to meet with them. At that meeting, he begged the killers to forgive him for the hatred that consumed him.

“He showed me what you have to do to be at peace after something like that,” Brose says. “I didn’t have a lot to teach him.”

The Rwanda Mediation Project is a partnership between two organizations, each with deep roots in non-violent conflict resolution. In Rwanda, a Quaker organization, The African Great Lakes Initiative, sets up the training sessions, recruits and screens students, and takes care of Brose and Symonds’ accommodation, safety, and other needs.

Here in the Comox Valley, the project runs under the auspices of the Comox Valley Community Justice Centre (CJC). This non-profit organization, founded in 1998, runs a variety of programs to promote harmonious living and non-violent solutions to criminal and other hurtful conduct. They are known for their restorative justice program, which offers an alternative to the court system, focusing on rehabilitation of the offender through reconciliation with victims and the community.

Over the years, this program has helped approximately 2,000 Comox Valley residents—youth and adults—talk face-to-face with the people they’ve hurt, hear about and accept responsibility for the harm they’ve caused, and offer sincere apologies and restorative action, often in the form of community service. Both Brose and Symonds are volunteers with the CJC.

The Rwanda program’s genesis reflects Brose’s long-term involvement with Quaker programs as well as his established connection to Africa. Before becoming a mediator in the late 1990s, Brose had trained as a facilitator for the Quakers’ Alternatives to Violence Project, which takes peace training into prisons. This experience was life changing and motivated him to study mediation. He is not a Quaker and points out that the program is not aimed specifically at Quakers, or any other religious group.

Brose had been to Tanzania and Kenya decades ago as part of the Peace Corps, and after that worked on and off in Africa as a teacher, including three years in Zimbabwe with his wife and three kids. (He has since taken his 12-year-old granddaughter to Africa as well, where she took mediation training with Rwandan and Burundian students.)

The genesis of the Rwanda Mediation Project came one day when Brose was at home (at that time, Ohio) on his computer. He entered into a list-serve discussion with a young Rwandan man who wanted to become a mediator to help his community. Brose knew that the Quakers were active in that region supporting reconciliation and peace-making. This confluence of connections and interests blossomed into a collaboration that has taken Brose to Africa four times where, with the help of others, he has delivered training to approximately 380 locals in Rwanda, Burundi, Eastern Congo, Kenya and Tanzania.

Students typically range from farmers to politicians, and all have demonstrated community leadership in some way. After they complete the training, they provide mediation on a volunteer basis in their communities.

“We had two ladies who have market stalls take the training and now they can mediate disputes in the marketplace,” explains Brose. “We’ve trained teachers who then use their skills with kids at school. We provide training to people from refugee camps so they can take their skills home with them. We’ve worked in Muslim communities where we provided training to Sharia judges, Imams and social workers.”

During their month in Africa, Brose and Symonds will provide four training sessions, each three days long. The trainees learn quickly and are usually called upon to put their new skills to work right away. “The genocide so degraded the justice system there,” Symonds says.

Brose continues: “There are thousands of cases waiting to be dealt with—dowries, infidelities, neighbor issues, theft, conflicts within churches and communities, etcetera. People can’t afford to engage the law. It’s not always easy to get the police out to do an investigation. I’ve seen them mediate manslaughter cases!”

Working cross-culturally is both rewarding and challenging. “For instance, there was a widowed woman in Burundi who’d sold some of her land to pay for school fees,” says Brose. “But this was against tribal law. It should have been her brother-in-law who made the decision. She had affronted him by going ahead without consulting him. In retaliation, it was his duty to have her raped, which he did. There was even a child that came out of that.

“The village was in turmoil. It had gone on for three years without any sort of settlement. They had a peace committee there which asked us to mediate it. I asked a man and a woman who had just been trained as mediators to take this on.

“Now, normally at a mediation session we don’t have a lot of people. But for this, there were families from both sides, people from the peace committee and others who came to observe. And these two people who had never mediated anything before helped resolve the issue by local standards. The brother-in-law accepted the sale and asked that she host a traditional celebration of a land sale. She said she had no money for this—she had used the money from the sale to pay the school fees. It looked like the whole thing was going down the toilet. But then the guy who bought the property offered to pay for the celebration.

“Everyone started crying. There was a collective weeping and wailing and then they started singing and praying and generally rejoicing that there would be peace in the village. Everyone was deeply touched; some confided in me that they hadn’t thought a final resolution was possible. I could have mediated for 40 years in North America and never seen something like that!

“In our society, the justice system would have taken over and carried out due process,” he adds. “The participants would have given testimony, but they would not have been part of the decision-making process. Our system does not give people the opportunity to resolve issues in face-to-face discussion. In this case in Burundi, by both sides agreeing to try mediation, they were able to rise above all their prejudices, anger and emotion.”

The rape was acknowledged, but not punished, says Brose. “The harshness of the brother-in-law’s response was certainly unjustifiable in modern western terms. Rape is a terrible, violent act whether in Africa or anywhere else. However in areas where there has been a lot of turmoil, and harsh military action, rape has become very commonplace.”

This case provides a good example of one of the cardinal rules of mediation—the mediator does not cast judgement or dictate what is right or wrong. Mediation is not arbitration, Brose explains. “A mediator does not mete out justice; the mediator is not a judge or a jury.”

“What we can do is set up a context for dropping the violence, dropping the antagonism,” explains Symonds. The mediator takes a facilitation role, supporting all parties to have a conversation that leads to a result that is mutually satisfying. Often, the benefits resonate far beyond the resolution of the actual conflict—individual and community wounds are healed, empathy is developed, and relationships are deepened.

When a mediation process is successful, the feeling is amazing, says Symonds. “When you can help people move that to a point where there’s harmony—that’s a trip, that’s great. It’s so satisfying to be able to play a role in this. I’m in awe of people who can forgive in this kind of situation.”

Symonds and Brose need to raise $15,000 to cover the costs of the trip in August. This amount will pay for their travel, vaccination and accommodation costs, all the costs associated with the training, and honoraria for the students. It’s a remarkably low amount considering what it provides.

“The people we train do about three mediations per year. So that’s over 900 conflicts a year getting support. And they are also training others,” says Brose. He estimates that this has created another 2,000 community mediators who are now providing peaceful conflict resolution.

The Community Justice Centre is serving as the financial agent for the project. Donors receive a Canadian Charitable Receipt. Please make cheques payable to Comox Valley Community Justice, Attention Rwandan Mediation Project, Suite C2 – 450 Eighth St, Courtenay, BC, V9N 1N5.