Floating somewhere between 6 & 7. But trying to make it look like I’m a good-girl waiting in-line at the self-checkout to buy my overpriced s**t-tickets 😜. Gotta keep ‘em guessing. 🤷‍♂️ Meanwhile you could not PUT me in a forest of tall birch, pine, maple and oak trees quickly enough. None of this feels like it matters anymore, and yet somehow we keep convincing ourselves there’s meaning to it all. Funny little apes we are. Slightly misquoting Marshall Davis Jones here, but ‘Maybe one day, our technology will be advanced enough to make us human again.’ Anyway, Thanks for believing. xoxo -AK Photo Credit goes to the one and only @denisegrant1 (Sorry for souring your work with my silly text Denise, but I promise I didn’t add any stupid filters) 🤣 😂 #thoughts #masculinity #parody

Sometimes ideas are hilarious, memorable and great. Other times you look back and go, “man, I really missed the mark on that one.” I’m not sure where this skit lands on that spectrum, but I had a point in wring it, had a blast shooting it and still enjoy watching it back. Thanks to Cat, Braeden, and Jason for the amazing day filming this. We had some laughs, and that’s what matters most. Stay weird, and as always, Thanks for believing. xoxo -AK P.S. I fuc**ng LOVE plastic straws, SORRY!! #comedy #streetinterview #tourist #plasticstraws

My mate @gregdobroski puts on hilarious shows. This was from a night at the Black Bull. It’s always a treat to be invited to do some of my strange silliness where people are gathered. It’s so fun to look back on footage and go “oh god, is that really what I decided to wear?” or “WOW, I definitely borrowed/stole that bit from someone much better at performing than me — I must replace THAT!” Many people tell me they hate watching themselves on camera or hearing their voice on a recording. I don’t know if this phenomenon really ever truly goes away. I once heard Johnny Depp say he doesn’t really watch movies he’s done. I think I understand why. If books are the closest thing to time travel we have, then video/audio recordings are like an uncomfortable box that can catch a moment in time and allow us (or force us) to revisit it, when we wish it just sort of disappeared like the rest of the ephemera of combined memories that make up our timeline on this giant space-rock. I don’t know what any of this is about. Definitely nothing polished tonight folks. Nothing overly spectacular. I wanted to test run some new bits of business, I had a playful moment where I reacted to a loud laugh from the section of the venue that had punters sitting who weren’t there for comedy. It made people chuckle. So here I am, sharing it with you. Thanks for believing, And riding along on the process. 🤷‍♂️ -AK #comedy #clown #improv

Screenshot from 2017 of a msg/Instagram story sent to me by the author, referring to a party that took place in 2007, (maybe even earlier)? TL;DR is: It was never about “tricks”. It still isn’t. Consider the difference between puzzles, tricks and magic moments. Puzzles take a very specific & special mind to keep entertained, and usually their charm wears-off after a while. It’s fun to solve little intricacies…a clever tech-reliant escape room clue, or a $10,000 hand-crafted Japanese wooden hamburger puzzle box. But then you solve it, or you don’t, and so what? You likely haven’t really changed as a human. The relationship & character evolution on the story that is you and the puzzle is flat and 2-D. Tricks are sort of similar. The slight advantage they usually have is that they at least have a sort of ancillary aesthetically-pleasing factor. They are usually dressed up in some sort of allegory, script, or cringey costume w/ a clever contraption that you forgive the moment of deception, and might ask “BUT HOW”, and yet not really care to hear the answer because you’re sort of happy to play-along and be deceived. Then there are magic moments. These belong in a category that is entirely separate and incomparable to the two items mentioned above. Magic moments are those moments that stay with us throughout our lives, to the END of our lives. If time were space, magic moments would be cobwebs. They linger, sitting there, shaping our perception of reality through how we perceive ourselves. They are like an intangible thing that you want to describe, and share in great detail with others, but you just never really can. Much like a spiderweb, you can walk through one, and have that strange and unexpected experience. You can try to describe it to someone else, and yet even though you know they’ve likely walked through one before, they’ll not be able to fully comprehend or appreciate how you felt walking through yours. Magic moments will dance in our minds, popping-up when we least expect them to. Our memories of them triggered by the first few notes of a song, to the smell of a perfume. They exist on the periphery of our attention, dancing in the shadows.

This one has made at least one person pee themselves in my car. Not kidding. Use it with caution. You’ve been warned ⚠️! 😉 😈 Thanks for believing, xo, -AK #trucklife #truck #prank #comedy

I stepped into the studio today thinking I needed new headshots. Was I ever wrong. What I needed was the presence of a professional, who operates under the pretence of “photographer” to hold such a unique and remarkably POWERFUL space to remind me of what it truly means to be a man. To show me the evolution and trajectory through which I have grown. Pointing out how proud and delighted she was to see me become this version of myself. I remember having little post-it notes on my bathroom mirror to try to remind myself that my job was to grow into the strongest version of myself. That I was “whole, perfect, strong, powerful, loving, happy and harmonious”. That I was enough. Etc. I would read them aloud, recoting them with as much passion & energy as I could muster. In the beginning I think I convinced myself that it was working, that it was helping. Eventually the humidity got to them, I barely glanced at them. What I didn’t realize was that it was never about a single gimmick, gadget or sudden psychological “trick” that mattered. What mattered was putting in the work, showing up as many times in as many ways, in as many places to carve and grow into this version of myself. I’ll be blunt, and say I’m likely about to start ‘upsetting’ a LOT of people, and lose a fair number of them. I’m stepping into this lovely and slightly unnerving version of myself that is reclaiming his full power and potential. I’ve been sort of quiet, poking out through the shadows, scared at the ‘new’ state of the world. I remember the last time I truly expressed my thoughts/beliefs, it was expressing disdain for governmental hypocrisy when the world shut down. I lost almost 400 “followers” here alone overnight, and had people I considered friends write me and attack my character and undermine my intelligence. Well, here I am. Unshaken. Unapologetic. (Un)fortunately <depending which side of the proverbial fence you sit on>. Denise reminded me of what it means to be an artist, of what it means to take your space when nobody hands it to you. She reinforced how much the world needs strong, devoted, committed and passionate men right now. Beyond grateful for this queen.

There was a point in my life where a school psychologist sat across my mother, my elementary school principal, and me to discuss the findings of their test. A test that was meant to tell them all if I was “gifted”. The results were in, and surprise surprise…well, you guessed it…gifted I was…not. In fact, the tests yielded something far more interesting, and perhaps pervasive than telling a young Caucasian boy who’s already been gifted the privilege of well his privilege that he’s “gifted”. The psychologist regretfully informed us all that it seemed like 3/4 of my brain operated above the standard or norm for my age group. It far out-performed what was typical. My mom leaned in close, with excitement in her eyes, “So he really is special?” The psychologist basically politely told her “not so fast”. It turned out that 1/4 of my brain, i.e. at least .25 of whatever these 4 intricate and specific areas she had tested me for, was operating WELL BELOW the standard. So far below in fact, it qualified as a learning DISABILITY. The horror 🙀 🤦‍♂️ My birth giver’s face became more of a palid glare. The adorable charm of angsty excitement that her bout was somehow “being the rest” turned to a mortifying realization that in fact he’s far “below” some of the ‘rest’. Interestingly enough, the area I scored the lowest in and certifiably had soecial needs in, was “ visual-spatial processing”. To put it bluntly, this authority informed a sensitive & very eager-to-please 12 year-old Alex—that he’d never quite be able to keep up with the other kids in sports, or music class; Especially not drumming. Any tasks requiring me to navigate, judge distances, or recognize objects—forget it. Depth perception & distance judgment would also be a huge pain point. Well, thank GOODNESS she said all that nasty and vile and untrue bullsh**! Because that day, I took it upon myself to level-up that side of my brain. Flash forward thru my school career. I won various 1st place titles at local and provincial level sporting competitions, specifically high jump, long jump, triple jump, and running events. Today I play drums, piano, juggle and throw axes like a MF’er!

Don’t worry, even if it feels like the ground beneath you is crumbling, there’s probably still subfloor holding you up…keep going.