this is hard. it is hard to say something when everything is bumping around in my head. it is hard to find the time. it is hard to articulate on paper, on a screen, through my hands. my mouth and my body both work better. i am hard pressed to be able to articulate what i am doing here. in cyberspace. on this blog. is this writing for me? for you? who are you? are you there?
i read an article about "dance community" in Contact Quarterly yesterday and today. i am intrigued. i would like to think more about this later.
i also read about yvonne rainer and i almost cried. it was a tribute to her. my nose flared. i can't control that movement of my body. i thought 'why do i get emotional about yvonne rainer? i've never met her and i've only seen her work once and it was on video and she wasn't dancing it.' i thought that i feel like somehow she is part of me. but how?
then i read about an amazing project that was once in Northampton, MA where they worked to keep free, open, blank space available to artists. and it worked for 30 years. and the sad and scary and frustrating and maybe even disheartening part was that eventually it didn't work any more. and i asked myself why so many people don't value the arts and artists. and i asked myself why i do. and i didn't have all the answers. and then later i watched part of the republican national convention, and i thought, "god help us!" and in my head i used god in the masculine form of the name, even though i like to conceive of my spirituality as "she." and i thought how sad that even i cannot seem to make my art and arts funding a priority for election, because i have higher stakes in other areas of my life.
and all this was in CQ. and i thought about supporting them with a subscription. because i want the issues anyway. and i found myself thinking that i can't afford it. but i bought new sunglasses.
in other news, i had a fantastic coffee date for which i am highly grateful. and it was the first time in almost a week that i had coffee!
i've also found a way to keep myself downtown once a week, even when i'm at school for the semester.
and so we've come full circle to ideas of community.
my lover lies next to me, sleeping.
since morning i have yet to touch her skin.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
The List: Things I Need
1. Space to dance in by myself DAILY. Or maybe in a small group. Or "alone in public". But where I can focus on my experience of movement and which doesn't have the structure of "class" or "rehearsal".
2. A blog.
3. Time to be by myself (if all of my dancing has included other people) each day.
4. Some help in organizing my stuff/life. Not sure if that would be asking a little or a ton. I want to be able to maintain some sort of organization on my own once I've achieved it. But can I?
5. To learn/practice how to be open, honest, and generous in my interactions physically, emotionally and cognitively. With both myself and others.
=> Question: How do you let yourself have that vulnerability without being constantly hurt? How do you *invite* others to share that vulnerability with you in a way that is welcoming and gentle?
6. Coffee dates.
7. To loosen my dependence on caffeine.
*LDM had an interesting challenge for this set of paradoxes - limit my caffeine consumption to coffee dates!
8. The time and freedom to explore dance marathons and manias (danse macabre? 'they shoot horses don't they'? what else?) through both "traditional" and "non-traditional" research methods.
9. New flip flops.
10. A close knit sense of community.
11. My honeymoon.
12. To start a "chain letter" of sorts for exchanging and expanding music awareness and libraries. Instead of sending postcards, you send songs. And everyone you send them to sends you songs back and sends songs forwards . . .
13. To order my fall semester texts and to start hunkering down to that work.
14. To imagine as possible a state of being in which I can be fully and intensely focused on one thing (such as my next dance piece?) without letting that focus turn into blinders of some sort, taking me away from or out of the rest of my life. => An integrated experience of living with a direct but permeable focus. I have two images for this: light coming in from the sides of my sunglasses, and taking my art into my life rather than having to bring my life into my art.
15. More performance opportunities.
16. Jam Sessions.
17. Hugs.
=> Another Question(ish): I used to think I was "not a follower." In both positive and negative connotations. Positive in that I was independent. Negative in that I was a bad listener. Including movement-wise. I changed my perspective. Today. I have serviceable listening skills. I have good listening skills. I enjoy listening, and even following! What I am finding is more challenging - and more nuanced - is this: doing both and neither at the same time. *This train of thought was inspired by an exercise in L&JDM's class today. The exercise was (in duet, large group, and quartet manifestations) to fall "together" but without necessarily initiating the falling or waiting for someone else to initiate. The falling could be fairly directly to the floor, or across the room using "horizontal momentum" - as though you are falling down a hill although you are on flat ground.
The question is: how do I avoid letting "listening" interrupt my own flow and directives? How do I let staying true to my own initiative leave room for listening and observation in a way that actually AFFECTS my trajectory? This line of questioning resonates for me both in dance and in life on a broader scale. How do I resist planning every step of my future without neglecting to plan at all? How do I stay open to chance and change => momentum - but still have a sense of direction and responsibility for my own choices and actions??
It is much easier for me to choose either extreme. In fact, trying to do both and neither feels like stopping an unstoppable force with an immovable object - an impossible goal! But the physical exercises in class allowed me the chance to begin exploring these ideas. And sometimes I even felt like "it" was happening. Not that I was making it happen, but that "it" just was. And I felt like I could keep working on it all day. Or every day. Or both.
2. A blog.
3. Time to be by myself (if all of my dancing has included other people) each day.
4. Some help in organizing my stuff/life. Not sure if that would be asking a little or a ton. I want to be able to maintain some sort of organization on my own once I've achieved it. But can I?
5. To learn/practice how to be open, honest, and generous in my interactions physically, emotionally and cognitively. With both myself and others.
=> Question: How do you let yourself have that vulnerability without being constantly hurt? How do you *invite* others to share that vulnerability with you in a way that is welcoming and gentle?
6. Coffee dates.
7. To loosen my dependence on caffeine.
*LDM had an interesting challenge for this set of paradoxes - limit my caffeine consumption to coffee dates!
8. The time and freedom to explore dance marathons and manias (danse macabre? 'they shoot horses don't they'? what else?) through both "traditional" and "non-traditional" research methods.
9. New flip flops.
10. A close knit sense of community.
11. My honeymoon.
12. To start a "chain letter" of sorts for exchanging and expanding music awareness and libraries. Instead of sending postcards, you send songs. And everyone you send them to sends you songs back and sends songs forwards . . .
13. To order my fall semester texts and to start hunkering down to that work.
14. To imagine as possible a state of being in which I can be fully and intensely focused on one thing (such as my next dance piece?) without letting that focus turn into blinders of some sort, taking me away from or out of the rest of my life. => An integrated experience of living with a direct but permeable focus. I have two images for this: light coming in from the sides of my sunglasses, and taking my art into my life rather than having to bring my life into my art.
15. More performance opportunities.
16. Jam Sessions.
17. Hugs.
=> Another Question(ish): I used to think I was "not a follower." In both positive and negative connotations. Positive in that I was independent. Negative in that I was a bad listener. Including movement-wise. I changed my perspective. Today. I have serviceable listening skills. I have good listening skills. I enjoy listening, and even following! What I am finding is more challenging - and more nuanced - is this: doing both and neither at the same time. *This train of thought was inspired by an exercise in L&JDM's class today. The exercise was (in duet, large group, and quartet manifestations) to fall "together" but without necessarily initiating the falling or waiting for someone else to initiate. The falling could be fairly directly to the floor, or across the room using "horizontal momentum" - as though you are falling down a hill although you are on flat ground.
The question is: how do I avoid letting "listening" interrupt my own flow and directives? How do I let staying true to my own initiative leave room for listening and observation in a way that actually AFFECTS my trajectory? This line of questioning resonates for me both in dance and in life on a broader scale. How do I resist planning every step of my future without neglecting to plan at all? How do I stay open to chance and change => momentum - but still have a sense of direction and responsibility for my own choices and actions??
It is much easier for me to choose either extreme. In fact, trying to do both and neither feels like stopping an unstoppable force with an immovable object - an impossible goal! But the physical exercises in class allowed me the chance to begin exploring these ideas. And sometimes I even felt like "it" was happening. Not that I was making it happen, but that "it" just was. And I felt like I could keep working on it all day. Or every day. Or both.
Welcome!
Today I made a list of things I want. Things I think I might need. One of them was a blog. - I've decided to be pro-active.
Why do I need a blog?
Because the conversations are too short. And too hurried. And I keep asking myself these questions about who I am and what I'm doing here and where I might be going.
So here I am. Attempting to extend the dialogue. I won't say starting it because it's already begun. But I'm doing what occurs to me to keep it open. Please comment. Please invite me to your blog. Please stop me after class, or during intermission, or on the street. - This isn't my soapbox. It's my opportunity to listen, too.
Why do I need a blog?
Because the conversations are too short. And too hurried. And I keep asking myself these questions about who I am and what I'm doing here and where I might be going.
So here I am. Attempting to extend the dialogue. I won't say starting it because it's already begun. But I'm doing what occurs to me to keep it open. Please comment. Please invite me to your blog. Please stop me after class, or during intermission, or on the street. - This isn't my soapbox. It's my opportunity to listen, too.
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