Skye Rogers | Creative Process

creative compost.

When I began my Artistic Associate journey with Aeris Körper at the beginning of 2025, I decided to set a goal for my year as a mentee of the company; to work towards a long-term project in which I could develop my skills, engage the resources I had access to, and accomplish by the end of the year.

I quickly remembered that I had been sitting on an idea (and a good chunk of choreography) for a dance film that I had been chipping away at for the past three years - it felt like the perfect project to bring to this new venture. All I needed to do was acquire some funding, finish the choreography, build a crew, and figure out all the logistics… Easy, right?
Turns out… these things take time.
More than I first thought.

And as I write to you today, at the top of my second year with the company, I’m still in the creative mush of it all. 

I’m not here to tell you a story of my perfectly smooth, linear process of building this body of work. And frankly, I’m glad that’s not the story I’m telling.

I’m here, if you’ll have me, to let you in on the creative growth and decay of my imperfect process. One that has cycled through break-downs and break-throughs a number of times;
A process of creative compost.

This is the story of a multi-year long project that is still feeding itself on recycled and reclaimed ideas.
One that I still believe in, despite the mess.
One that I hope you can see one day. 

This is the story of Peggy.


the soil

Back in 2022, I began creating some choreography to a song by Niagara-local band, Permilla. They were working on their debut release, Peggy and Her Ongoing Adventures in Wonderland, a concept album that follows the story of Peggy, an innocent woman, overcome by the distortion of worldly morals. I played Peggy in their first music video to the song Get Back, and they asked me to continue the role for their next video to The Big Man, but this time, through movement.

Music video for Get Back. Written and performed by Permilla (formerly JIN the Band).

I was thrilled to do it. The collaboration was exciting; to work with friends on a project that felt meaningful and relevant was a dream come true. I was immediately inspired by the song’s dynamic blend of guitar and spoken word, detailing a story about Peggy’s relationship with The Big Man: capitalism & toxic masculinity incarnate. It felt poignant, cheeky, and contemporary. 

In the following months, I spent most of my free time building the piece. I had the freedom to create whatever I wanted, on my own time, and the first half of the song was choreographed over those first few months.
But then… things slowed down. The album was released in the spring, I did some travelling later that fall, and time had gotten away from all of us. 
Suddenly, the year was over, the band was ready to move on to their next project, and I was left with a chunk of choreography that I really connected to and wasn’t ready to let go of, just yet.

Over the following few years, I returned to the piece as I pleased, adding to it as I felt inspired. It grew slowly.
Something about Peggy’s story just kept calling me.

In late 2024, I realized that I might be able to actually do something with what I was working on…
I knew the idea for the music video had died, but that didn’t mean that my part in it had to. At this point, I had had plenty of experience producing my own, small projects; managing modest budgets, acquiring funding, coordinating collaborators and partnerships. I felt confident in my ability to level-up; to try something bigger.
I asked the band if I could move forward with the project on my own, and they were happy to hand off the reins.

the seeds

With the creative vision now in my hands, I had some decisions to make:
Who do I want to work with?
What world do I want to build?

Music video for Clove. Written, performed and directed by Janel Rae. Winner of Best Female Director at Prague’s Music Video Awards.

I knew I wanted to collaborate with a director, and immediately thought of my best friend and roommate from college, Janel Rae, who was deep in her own movie-making journey, and had previously directed several of her own music videos. I had always admired the rich, colourful, emotional worlds she builds, so I asked if she might be interested in directing the film.
She said yes!

I also wanted to find a creative way to build an ensemble of dancers, and I thought of a dance studio back in my hometown that trains adults in commercial styles. I asked if they wanted to partner, and give their dancers the experience of dancing on film. 
They said yes!

I continued to brainstorm who I knew in my community that might have the skills I’d need to pull the project off, and asked some more friends for help. Suddenly, I had a whole crew behind me; Dramaturg, Assistant Choreographer, Director, Director of Photography, Production Assistant, Hair & Makeup Stylist, and a Cast.  Nearly a full team behind me, eager to collaborate on the work, and I was prepared to fill in the gaps as Choreographer, co-Director, Producer, and Editor.

The next - and biggest - step was to apply for funding. 
I knew I’d need to pay for all the logistics of running a film set, and, of course, compensate my collaborators, cast, and crew. Thankfully, I knew the process of grant writing would also give me a clearer idea of what needed to happen, and how, in order to make the whole thing work. 

This is when my Associate position with Aeris Körper began, and really supported my development. While I had some experience writing successful grants for provincial and local funders, I hadn’t dared to try for a Canada Council grant before… but I was determined to go big. 

Throughout the process of writing this grant, I was mentored by the company’s Artistic Director, Mayumi. We would discuss the application together, and she’d offer some edit suggestions and clarifying questions. I learned so much about the craft of grant writing; my language got clearer, my sentences more concise and direct, and I became more aware of what the jury was looking for. 

Jane Horrocks performing as Sally Bowles in the titular piece of Cabaret. A major inspiration for the character of Peggy.

I came up with a clear vision of the final work, and without yet putting it on its feet, how it would end. Due to some foley in the music, I had a clear vision of a nightclub setting - think Sally Bowles in Cabaret. I envisioned Peggy standing in the centre of a room of men, ready to perform for her usual crowd, but with a different agenda this evening. As her dance progressed, she would transform into each part of “The Big Man,” exposing how he wronged her. At the climax, several women (the ensemble) with a shared experience would appear, and they would move together in a cathartic outburst. 

The film would end how it started - Peggy, all alone in the centre of these men, back to her reality. She would realize that no one was listening to her. She would return to her dressing room.

In retrospect, what I struggled the most with in this application was connecting the purpose of the project to the greater picture;
How would it contribute to the arts in Canada, beyond me?
I was excited about my idea, yes.
I was excited to collaborate with my very talented friends, yes.
I was excited to expand my skills as an artist, yes.
I was excited to finally let this piece come alive, yes.
But, what did I want to say with the work?
Why is it relevant to the Canadian arts scene?
What in the world was my artistic voice?

Writing this grant was a lot of work (iykyk).
Creating complex plans, justifying each decision, gathering support material, and creating a clear budget. All of this work to revolve your plans around a budget that you may not end up having access to. If you’ve ever submitted a grant proposal, Godspeed!

I submitted to the CCA in March, and held the project with open hands for eight months, in anticipation of my results. In the meantime, the project continued to breathe; I expanded the choreography, and nearly finished it by the time my results came in.

In October, I received a notice.
My CCA application was unsuccessful. 


growth and decay

Despite my disappointment, I was a tad bit relieved.
I was asking for an amount of money that was way beyond my imagination. And, while it would have been very nice and easy and convenient to have, I’m also very comfortable in a scrappy, DIY, creativity-within-constraints scenario. So, I went back to the drawing board, and I decided to resource my film through smaller grants, crowdfunding, and community support.

That fall, I reapplied for a smaller municipal grant from my hometown that I had previously submitted to and was unsuccessful in in the span of time that I was waiting for my CCA results. I took to the first application with fresh eyes, adjusted my writing based on some feedback from the jury, and…
It came back successful! 
A sprout of growth.

In November, I participated in Aeris Körper’s Creation & Conversations Solo Dance Lab, facilitated by Denise Fujiwara. I brought this piece. I was asked to research the idea, and - for the first time since my first grant proposal - I was really asked to consider what my idea was. Not the narrative, nor the arc, nor the themes; but what was my thesis? What was my “juicy fruit” of an idea to bite into?

Image from a homework sharing at Creation&Conversations, facilitated by Denise Fujiwara.

Throughout the lab, I experimented. I was ready to explore outside of the world of the piece that I had become so familiar and comfortable with. I made scores and movements that were detached from the music and built choreography to try to discover what layer is there underneath my curiosity - why this? I began to consider the dynamic of capitalism and the patriarchy - how these two “isms” shape Peggy’s lived experience, in the bigger picture of her world.

But then, I got lost in the details. When asked for my juicy fruit, my thesis became: portraying the story of Peggy’s character. It wasn’t strong.
I got caught up in trying to understand this complex character, with a lived experience of relational abuse that I hadn’t personally faced. I was confused, trying to fit myself and my work into something I did not know, and could not represent. As an actor, I need to do things like this often. But, as a creator, a question of ethics arises. How can I try to represent and create a situation that I’ve never been in? The answer is, a lot more time and resources than I have access to.

In week four out of five, I presented my piece to my peers. The piece that had been inside of me for years. I danced the work in its entirety, including the ending that I had created in my grant proposals; the one focused on the story I knew, but not necessarily the one that I wanted to, or could, tell.

The feedback was not what I expected.
It wasn’t bad - I knew that. But it wasn’t doing what I had hoped for. I realized that the ending I had chosen was more bleak than I had thought. I left Peggy in a bad situation - and I knew this. I had done this partly because it was a different choice that I would usually make; I am typically inclined towards a happily-ever-after ending. But, my choice wasn’t having the kind of impact I had hoped for, and I knew from how it was received that I wasn’t telling the story that I wanted to tell.

After five weeks, the Lab ended, and it left me thinking…
A lot. 

With the next step of my plan being to launch a crowdfunding campaign for the project, I spent a lot of time contemplating, chewing, pondering in the back of my mind. No longer did I have to articulate my idea to a jury, but to future audiences… and somehow that felt like a higher stake.
How could I ensure it would be worth their resources?
What am I trying to do?
What do I want to say?
What feels true?
What is true to me & my story?

I decided I needed a new ending

I couldn’t leave Peggy where she was. This film, now at my liberty to create, no longer needed to be attached to the source it came from. The album ends tragically for Peggy, and outlines a very true reality for many women in her situation. But, for the first time, I understood that I didn’t have to tell Peggy’s story perfectly. And to be frank, I couldn’t.

I was no longer just the actor, I was also the source. As I came to terms with this, I also realized that I needed to shift my choreographic idea. I needed to make something that was true to me and my lived experience; not trying to share one that is not my own. 

a return to raw materials

As I wondered how in the world am I going to find a fresh idea? I remembered my early discoveries in the Lab, and the part of Peggy’s dynamic with The Big Man that always resonated me; The Big Man was not just a person, but an idea; a metaphor for a system greater than any one person. A character embodying the unrelenting evil of late-stage capitalism. 

Then, I came across a video called “stop trying to be cool girl”, detailing the impact of capitalism and consumerism on the female identity.

stop trying to be cool girl by Mickey Galvin.

I looked at my own life, and noticed the impact:

I was reminded of my experience as a teenage girl growing up in a culture that dictated my insecurities and sold me my solutions,

I thought about my relationship to the media and the influence it's had on my self-actualization, since I was 12,

I realized that, having just deactivated my instagram account at the beginning of this year, I have only just started to recognize how much power that marketing and media has had on my mental health, self-image, and confidence.

I have been so overwhelmed and oversaturated with ever-changing ideas of beauty, and women I’m told to compare myself to.


I finally found my juicy fruit.

compost

Image from Pinterest.

At a community gathering I attended recently, a friend of mine was talking about the idea of compost as a model for change; waste breaking down to nourish the soil for new life to flourish. We can’t tell by the bad smell or rotten look, but there is magic brewing in the deep.

It made me realize that this creative process has not been unlike the compost process;  maybe ideas can also break down, in an effort to feed new ones. Upon further reflection, every creative process I’ve ever been in has had old ideas influence new ones. So I know this to be true.

Yet again, I am allowing what exists to break apart and decompose, so that my older ideas can become nutrients for the new ideas that are budding.  I am allowing growth & decay to happen all at once.

It feels a bit like I’m back at the beginning of my process. I’m not sure what of my first buds of ideas will stay, and which will be pruned for rebirth. But, I am trusting the process, however daunting it may be, and I am remembering that everything that has happened up until this moment is still brewing; it still belongs. 

And so, dear reader, wherever you may be in your creative process; wherever your curiosities find themselves, maybe this can be an encouragement to you. Know that your “dead” ideas are feeding the alive ones. In fact, I dare you to take a moment, and ask yourself how your decaying ideas are still, in fact, very much alive. Your “failures” are powerful, if you let them be.

I am so excited to bring you the fruits of my labour and failures, someday soon.

Until then,
skye

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