San Miguel de Allende, Mexico / October 2013 –

Toller Cranston was a bit of Canadian icon. He was best known as an incredible skater who won several national championships, a World bronze metal in 1974 and a 1976 Olympic bronze metal. I remember him as a young man who revolutionized skating with his artistic approach to his performances. He included some very dynamic jumping but it was his exciting technique of creating stylistic forms with his signature spinning. He would move his arms and legs into odd places and positions, thereby creating fascinating shapes and forms. Later, younger skaters began to emulate this unique style, to which they were later described as “Tollerized”.

I had the good fortune of meeting Toller at his house in San Miguel. He was incredibly messy with oil paint all over his clothes and hands. He had decided to take an unexpected break from his painting to entertain us. He showed me his adjoining studio with many large canvas paintings, either hung or leaning against a wall. He had oil tubes all over the place and scribbled messages on a white board reminding himself of things he needed to do, mixed in with phone numbers, etc. There was an air of a creator gone mad with imagery, impulsiveness and wild creativity. His use of colour was impressive.

I visited his house three times and was always amazed at his mass collections of art and sculptures. It was a scary proposition to walk between tables laden with artifacts, for fear of knocking something onto the floor. Everything seemed so fragile. Every bit of wall space was cluttered with clay masks, decorative plates, paintings, or some kind of ornament. He appeared to be a compulsive collector and hoarder of art, trinkets and sculpture. In this particular photo, he appears disheveled, sleep deprived and overly expressive. I’m convinced he painted at all hours of the day. He seemed so driven.

The last time I saw him was at the Mega Store, near the edge of town, and he asked me what I was up to. I was excited to tell him that I’d finished my first book : “Confesssions of Weekend Dad”. He smiled and said he’d like to read it when it came out. I immediately replied sarcastically, “No you wouldn’t!” I assumed he was patronizing me, and coupled with the knowledge that he was gay, it was a bit of a challenge to him. His face took on a sudden sadness. Then he replied very solemnly, “Yes, I would. You see, I never had kids!” And then I realized that not having kids was something he must have thought about on many occasions and perhaps had regret or was curious about how that might have been. He intimated that he was curious about fatherhood. I felt terrible. Naturally, I promised to give him a book when I got them back from the printer. But, sometimes promises can’t be kept.

Two weeks later, I left San Miguel for Christmas in Vancouver and when I returned in mid-January 2015, he died a few days later. I never got to see him again, nor did he get to read my book, that he was sincere about reading. I regret my comments of that day and that I never got to apologize to him for making false assumptions. Despite our friendship, I have to live with those brashly spoken words that I can’t take back. It was a tough lesson, but a lasting one. I’ve learned to avoid judgments and assumptions – easier to practice, yet harder to live by.

Toller’s art, spirit and contributions to the world, live on.