BWW Blog: Siobhan O'Loughlin - Fairies, Folklore and Foam: The Isle of Man

"Everyone who just got out is really happy, and another group is getting ready to come in," Robin said to me. Robin is tall, and thin, with enormous blue eyes and a head full of curls. I was sitting on a small couch in a third floor recording studio in a gorgeous home, owned by my new friends, Phil and Marie, on the Isle of Man. I was also sweating-my bath water had previously been very hot, and I nodded, while sipping a giant mason jar of water and wearing a big, plush white robe given to me by Robin's mother.

"So, once you've had a moment, we'll get you started for a second show." Robin continued, in his soft, Manx-English accent, and he stopped and put his hand on my shoulder, "Well done, you." He said, and we smiled.

Eight years before, I studied abroad at the now-deceased Dartington College of Arts in Devon, England. Robin and his "twin" brother Toby have also both received artsy degrees there, and went on to record as The Higgins Brothers, in an album that fills me with joy and nostalgia. The Brothers lived and worked in England for awhile, and now are both back on their homebase of The Isle of Man. I traveled there to reconnect with them, for a sense of family, of singing and playing the piano alongside Toby, of meeting Manx gal pals that I'd have forever, of teaching storytelling to Robin's former high school, for the best hugs on either side of the Atlantic, and to perform some bathtub shows.

Phil and Marie's show night was one of my very favorite ones. They simply have one of those marvelously Bohemian homes that also serves as a great venue for their company, Small Bear Records, to host actual shows in their living room with full band line ups. And so, as it happened, a big art party took form, where folks watched musicians play downstairs, or a girl in a bathtub perform upstairs, and the top floor served as a dressing room for me to recoup and for Robin to rev me up. Audiences switched out and took turns from soaking in bathtub theatre to dancing to living room live music. When I was finished, I got to watch bands perform while wearing my bathrobe. This is literally the dream I have for home performances: that they are welcoming, eclectic, accessible, and engaging. Literal dream come true.

And a literal dream to have someone by your side who cares about you.

Robin and I hardly knew each other before I arrived at the very tiny airport on the Isle of Man, and he drove me to his home after noting how important it was that I greet the fairies at the bridge on our way down. I'm not really spiritual; I have chimerical whims at best-but the Isle of Man is a place of magic. It was for me.

And I can thank the people for that too, of course. We hosted a show at Robin and Toby's home as well, for a full room of nearly 10 people. Intimacy remains a fascinating subject, as Toby, my dear friend who I had been spending nearly every day out exploring the Isle with, suddenly became shockingly shy when I asked him to wash my back. I am constantly reminded of what physical contact means, what it is, how it makes us feel to not only be involved in an intimate act, but to be witnessed as we do it. I feel constantly filled with gratitude for the people who join me in the bathroom, and constantly grateful to my friends, like Toby, for taking big risks, and for people in my life like Robin, who have infinite belief in what I do. The Isle of Man humbled me, and my new friend and local buzz superstar Helen McKenna wrote a marvelous review for that evening's performance as well.

Robin, starring as not only a beautiful soul in my life, but a producer of sorts, and Isle-Wide-Networker, also landed me a teaching gig as a guest for the illustrious Clare Ledger's theatre program at King William's College. There, I was graced with two different classes, where we did some very bare bones exploration of personal storytelling and narrative. Rooms full of thoughtful, charming, and delightful students engaged with me on multiple levels. We had basic Q and A's about my life and what I do (yikes, right?) to my very American ways of encouraging them to "act an idiot" and tell the stories where they failed, bombed, lost, and looked or felt like a big, defeated loser.

That sounds and looks ridiculous where I sit typing it, but the stories and small performances that came about were a marvel to watch. I witnessed one young man's memory of dressing up as a child with anticipation for a flight with his grandfather, only to be let down. Another young woman's first kiss with a boy she had so looked forward to left her feeling empty and embarrassed. And another young man shattered his iphone when he dropped his dumbbells at the gym, and instead of feeling strong and empowered as he'd hoped -he left feeling humiliated and, well, a failure.

I was so moved by these stories, and proud of these gentle, witty teenagers for these isolated moments of isolation-because I have found, time and time again, that it is in our failures and our bruises that we discover connection, and healing.

That's at least what I'm trying to do with Broken Bone Bathtub. And thanks to Robin's dedicated belief in me-and this beautiful island's open hearts-I discovered many deep connections laid out before me. Whatever magic beyond fairies and folklore that lives on the Isle of Man is with the people that showed me their hearts there, I think. That heart is now a part of me.

Magic.