Sara Browne has a passion for music, theatre, and performing. These passions have been part of her genetic makeup since she was a child and have remained constant throughout her life. This is her life story... so far.

I grew up in Lismore and then moved away for a long time, but I've been back here about seven years. It felt like moving home again even though I had made Sydney my home after uni in Wollongong.

My parents still live here. I did most of my primary school here, then high school and then I stayed for a year to work and do drama stuff while I figured out what to do next.

I have three older siblings. Mum and Dad were always really supportive. I don't remember them ever having that sort of cliched attitude, “you need something to fall back on. You shouldn't do that sort of thing.’’ I'm sure, in some ways, they thought it was not at all a good idea to try and become an actor or musician. They would have been right, of course. It’s a mad thing to pursue.

I think they were really supportive of whatever choices we made.

My next sister is a musician and music therapist. My other sister and brother are both in the health industries. I've certainly done 1000 different jobs over my life.

I loved drama and music at school. My high school drama experience definitely nurtured my interest and connection to theatre. I had great teachers in those areas, Felicity Andreasen and Peter Derrett.

Theatre North was one of the active theatre companies in town when I was a teenager. They did fantastic works with no money, I assume. They created amazing pieces of theatre that are very memorable to me; my sister Chiara was also involved. Peter Derrett and his wife Ros were the key people who formed and maintained that big passion and effort.

Actually, the year after I finished school, I stayed in Lismore to work out my next move, and I did a production of Little Shop of Horrors with Theatre North at the Workers Club. That was heaps of fun, really cool cast. And it was a really ambitious show for a small regional company to do because …well, it's a musical with a giant flesh-eating plant puppet.

I think I pretty much always wanted to be an actor or singer, and I've always been connected to it in some way.

As most creative people know, you've got to do your own thing or do things that are not related to that so you can fund something else. It's quite a juggling act.

I’ve worked as a fairy. I’ve worked as a train driver – tourist train, not an actual public transport type train – in the Botanic Gardens. It was hilarious and then really annoying and repetitive. I've done a bit of MC kind of work and promotional stuff for marketing companies. The sort of work when you're in character, in costume, using gift of the gab in public places like on a university campus or somewhere like Martin Place in Sydney’s CBD.

I went to university in Wollongong, which had a theatre degree. It wasn't a hardcore acting school like NIDA but it was a creative arts degree with a theatre major. I loved it, and I made good friends. I moved to Sydney after that, just because it was the closest big city, and that's where people went. A lot of people who grow up in this area do that. Go away to uni, maybe go to Brisbane or Sydney and then end up coming back. I think the bonds you form with people that you're studying with can be wonderful.

I'm not sure if it's the same in other degrees, but certainly, when you study acting, you’re so engaged with others and personal things about yourself, including your physical presence, your body, your voice, your emotional library of expression, your personal experiences that have built all that. Acting is often about presenting truth and vulnerability. Acting teachers love getting that stuff out of eager students.

I did love Sydney, and I lived in lots of different parts of it over the years, but mostly in an artist’s co-operative in Erskineville. I loved to visit family here as well, but for a long time, I didn't want to move back here again. I think your home or your comfort zone can become a bit of a trap in some ways. As you get older, you start to feel comfortable where you are and wonder how and if you would survive change and what that would look like. In practical terms, you have to be a grown-up about it. Being a grown-up is hard.

(busking with my son at Eveleigh Markets in Sydney)

I became a mum, which was the best thing ever, and then when my boy was about five, I started to think - do I need to move? I'm going to leave the big city, do it before he starts school. I think that's what drew me back to the area, knowing that my parents were still here and that I had friends and other connections here. We had a beautiful life there, but we have made a beautiful life here too.

My main ‘day job’ in Sydney for all those years was in theatre and concert venues selling the merch. It’s quite a nocturnal lifestyle, and I loved being in the big theatre environment. I got to see lots of great shows and concerts, or at least snippets. It was mostly great, but there were times when I would have an existential crisis in the foyer, questioning myself for being outside selling the t-shirts when part of me knew I should be inside on the stage. I just wasn’t ambitious enough, perhaps, or lacked the self-belief.

I recall a particular meltdown with some workmates when we worked at the Prince concert at the Entertainment Centre in Chinatown, which is a massive stadium venue in the city. I loved Prince. He was one of the few pop stars I adored. I even ended up writing and performing a one-woman show, which paid homage to him and the Purple Rain album.

Anyway, we got to go inside and see some of the gig, and I watched him perform Purple Rain live. I could feel my soul starting to crack and explode because it was very moving - I loved that song - but I was connected to it from an earlier time in my life, when I was a teenager, thinking ‘’Yeah, I'm gonna be a performer, I'm going to be on stage belting out original tunes to a sobbing stadium crowd.’’ I came out to the foyer and cried to my workmates, saying, ‘’What are we all doing…selling the t-shirts and caps?” My boss, who was a drummer in a semi-successful band at the time, took me for a shot of whisky at the pub over the road.

I toured with a theatre in education company for a year when I first finished uni. I’ve done lots of small gigs of my own, performing original songs on guitar or uke, cabaret, comedy, written short plays, one of which has been published and performed by others, and I got to perform at the Opera House Studio. I had my fifteen minutes of fame when an indie feature film I did had some success at Aussie cinemas. I also wrote a one-act musical comedy, which had a short season at the Darlinghurst Theatre.

I think when I was younger, I didn’t have a realistic understanding of what it takes to be a performer in the realm of Prince. It's actually very hard and probably a bit lucky as well. And then tragically cut short in too many cases.

My son is much more sporty than I ever was. I was pretty sporty in primary school and the start of high school but then it became all about drama and music. My son is quite a natural athlete. I do spend a lot of time happily travelling to and watching him play basketball and we've made some lovely friends in that community.

I had an amazing job when I first landed back here in Lismore with this great company that sadly, doesn't exist anymore. They employed creative people like me, who could sing, play an instrument, engage in silly playfulness, and gave us jobs in aged care facilities working one-on-one with dementia clients. I did that for two years in Sydney and then some contract work became available in Kyogle and Casino.

That became my transition from Sydney back to here. It was extremely challenging but valuable work. I loved it. The company disappeared. I hope there's still people out there doing that work.

I had written a play, a black comedy, which got accepted into a program with a national playwriting organisation that supported new unproduced work. The dramaturg I was placed with as my mentor lived in Maclean, so that was another element lining up to bring me back to Lismore. And then one day, I decided to be brave and call Julian Louis, NORPA director, and ask if he’d have a look at my script.

He read it and liked it and helped me organise a rehearsed public reading with some local professional actors and himself as director. The play is called Total Eclipse of Sunday Lunch. That was really exciting, to have that acknowledgement and support. That play is still stuck in a computer file somewhere; I’d love for it to have a life on stage.

Sometime later, Julian reached out to see if I wanted to get on board a creative development team to make an education work for primary schools. I said, oh no, I can't do that, I'm too busy watching basketball. Of course, I said yes please! It was a great creative process with an awesome bunch of people.

We got together for a few days at a time over a period of about two years to create a work from the ground up with a briefing that had been written by the director and designer. It’s called the Laboratory of Light. It’s a magical thing we created; I’m proud of it.

(Performing in Norpa's Laboratory of Light earlier this year. Photo: Kate Holmes)

Our director is also a high school science teacher, so she is really interested in the intersection between art and science. Our designer is also an art teacher. The team includes a brilliant musician who plays a character whilst performing live music and sound effects on stage and two other amazing, highly skilled lighting and stage designers who also have a performance background. Having a multiskilled combination of people is the best way to make theatre.

That culminated earlier this year in several performances commissioned by the Catholic Schools Office. The kids and teachers loved it. We’ve been invited to remount the show for a short season at HOTA next year.

Often, you find with creative people, and particularly in this area, they can really go from one role to another in terms of creative skill and output. NORPA really value and encourage that flexibility because, for any employer, it's great to have someone who can multitask.

I auditioned for Wildskin earlier this year in a big open audition with a bunch of incredible local women. We didn’t actually know at the time what the show we were auditioning for was, but suspected it was a reboot of Wildskin, which NORPA had produced in 2019. I actually went to see it at City Hall as a date night with the man who became my husband last year. Yes I met the love of my life not long after I moved back to Lismore!

(My partner Rudy proposed on Christmas eve in North Yorkshire)

Wildskin is a cast of five women and Julian Louis directing. NORPA’s Associate director Heather Fairbairn has been assistant directing.

It's physically quite challenging - oh yeah I think we’re all feeling that - there's a lot of movement, using our bodies in surprising ways, finding strength and flexibility. We're being really well supported and guided by a great choreographer Jade Dewi. It's exciting because we've been cast as actors; we’re not dancers, not expected to be; although some do have a dance background, but we all have an ability and a willingness to be instructed and experiment. Movement is an essential part of the storytelling with this piece. As are the visuals. Moments of non-verbal storytelling on stage are quite a thrill for an audience ,I think. The set and costume design are truly so striking – and the lighting – people stand outside the theatre after the show talking about how amazing it all looks – it holds and highlights the story we are all telling together.

That’s what I love about theatre; it’s such a team effort. And certainly, my experience with NORPA has been so collaborative; there’s no ego or hierarchy, just collective skill and effort and offering of ideas to tell the story and make it the best possible experience for an audience. There are very few companies in Australia that do what NORPA do: create work in this way. They are yet another reason this town is unique and impressive.

(Onstage for Wildskin. Photo: Kate Holmes)

Wildskin is such a rare treat for an audience. I really hope as many people as possible get to see it. It has been selling out, so that’s great.

Outside of work, I’m into singing, playing uke, reading, walking the dog. I’m a member of Isabella A Cappella, the local choir. It’s a great bunch of people, and we have an amazing MD who has kept the group going despite so many hurdles. We are hoping to tour Japan in the new year. The group has toured there many times before ,but not with this current lineup.

There’s been a few little hiccups to stop that…you know, funding cuts, natural disasters, worldwide pandemics, the usual stuff. We had a tour booked before all that but it got canned…postponed I should say.

(Isabella A Cappella Photo: Raimond De Weerdt)

I’d love to pack up the family and the dog and go travelling, experience Australia in a campervan and not be anchored for a while. I’d love to take my son overseas too, and experience other cultures with him so he can get a different angle on what we have here. We went to the UK a couple of years ago to meet my husband’s family. I’d love to get back there to North Yorkshire. And then pop into Kenya to meet my son’s many relatives who we haven’t yet met.

I think clever employers can see that they benefit from employing creative thinkers with a diverse range of experience, even if they don't tick absolutely every box in the job ad. You might bring something to it that someone else can’t. I can sing, I can act, I can write, I can engage people with fun and empathy…I can whip out a power tool or pressure washer in a flood cleanup with confidence. Sadly or otherwise, like many of us Northern Rivers locals, I can add ‘disaster recovery’ to my resume.

I think I have had to foster that faith in myself that I'm not just one thing, I can do lots of things. But also out of necessity, because we do have to pay the damn rent.

Wildskin plays for one more week at the Lismore Showground. You can book your tickets through the link.