Your hot button issue, or not...

... this is a wonderfully written letter/blog entry.  So simply stated, but powerful words.  Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a wordy writer, just in case I ever have the impetus to write something like this.

Eve Ensler to Todd Akin...

There is a good chance I talk aloud to the dog too much when I'm home alone...

Famous?

So, my Q&A with the Globe was circulating on the internet this morning... and I decided to go out and get a paper copy.  Flipped to the Arts Section, it obviously wasn't in the first page or two, but then I noticed this GINORMOUS photo of myself on the last forward-facing page, with a full-page article.  I had to close it almost immediately, like groundhog-seeing-shadow reaction.  But, then I opened it again, and read it wide-eyed.

Article here...

Obviously none of this was a surprise, I obviously sat with the reporter and spoke those words, but it is always funny to see yourself in print.

Every weekday of my years in college, I'd carve out 20 minutes to run to the Campus Center for lunch, crossing my fingers that there would still be a free copy of the NYT and the Globe.  I'd discard the bulk of the paper, yank the Arts section, and try to devour as much as I could before sprinting back to class.  Theatre reviews, lack of dance articles, full page ads for new stuff on Broadway... I read it all.  I was so familiar with this routine, the Arts sections of each paper, and there was always a familiar anonymity-- as I could spout off on Broadway-s who's-who, ground-breaking new performance art... obviously there was a great divide between these people, and me!

But today, there I was... running my mouth about ChoreoFest, and this Luminarium Dance that I love so much.  The interview isn't really about me, at all, but the words were just so familiar (duh, I said them..) and the way she punctuated and included a laugh or awkward wording was just me-- the text version!

It's an almost full-circle moment.  My freshman year at MHC I loaded up on both dance courses, and journalism/anthro (also bio/chem, but that's another story for another day).  My Women's Public Voices class was immensely enjoyable, slightly discouraging (journalists need to be concise?!), and eye-opening.  I remember touring through Time Magazine in New York City with Priscilla Painton (MHC alum- then deputy managing editor, now editor in chief at Simon & Schuster) wandering the halls of the high-rise building and wondering if journalism was something I could do- little bit different than being the copy editor of the high school paper... How much dance would I have to compromise, how would I get to report on what I wanted to... so many questions.  I never considered trying to be on the other side of the situation- the subject!  Still, there are days where I'd love to be able to balance what I do with reviewing local art, but I'd never want to take time away from/compromise all that I've worked for.

This is always what I've wanted to do, recognized for it or not... I've always wanted to be a creator. Always!  I am SO lucky to have reached my 'end-goal' so early in life, and now look how much time I have to better what I do, to learn, to grow, to expand with a partner that is equally inspired and motivated.  To be recognized for this, though, and to be gaining press and steam like we have been this entire summer?  Amazing.

late night rambling pt 3

One of these days I'll find someone who can get away with bossing me around.  I'll most likely be amused, only if this person can get away with it without being thwarted by my sneaky tactics.

I'm not sure if I am quiet (!) enough to fly off the radar, or am just low key, but no one tells me what to do. This is mostly good, because I'm very subtly anti-authority.  Maybe you've noticed.  I hate the unnecessary (often workplace) over-delegation of simple tasks, and if someone gives me a nice/slow/easy to-do list, I'm most likely thinking inside that they're a total moron and now I have to find a way to do it out of order to prove a point.  I think I get this from my grampa, he would always semi listen with a laugh in his eyes, and innocently take your request and do it in his own silly way.  Maybe it would be more efficient, maybe it would be downright ridiculous, but he would always do it his way.

Anyways, one day, maybe YOU, friend, will get all bossy in ordering me around, and I will probably snicker (out of appreciation)... but then do as you request, if you're persuasive or sassy enough.

---

Also (because where else am I going to lump this in) I hate when people don't trust me, and I hate people that simply cannot be trusted on the basics.  I might come across as a blonde zoned-out ridiculous human being, but I am very smart and very capable, and if it's important I will absolutely get it done under whatever means necessary.  If it's not important or if it's boring and non-vital that's another story...  Everything I care about will always come together, there's no alternative.  Last weekend = case in point... even pissed off and rather furious, I will damn well get done what needs to get done.

There are three levels (probably many more) of trust in my eyes...  there's a contingent of people I just deal with, no trust for follow through, no trust for opinion/ideas, and that's fine as long as they are classified as such.  Next level up are those either I work/interact with in some capacity, I trust that they will do things they say they will (basic accountability)... or lastly, you are someone in my life where I trust not only that you will follow through, but I trust your thoughts/opinions/words.  Not many people are in the upper level of trust in my life, but when someone I trust to do basic tasks falls out of their category... it's upsetting.

I ramble at night.  Oh well!  Trust has just been on my mind, recently, since I don't grow it easily, yet provide it to all of my colleagues and friends.

Exploring Icarus and Learning How to Fly...

ORIGINALLY published on Luminarium's blog, here!

One of many pieces of Icarus art...

When I was younger (I would say much younger, but it would be a lie) I used to search for walls, tree stumps, large rocks… anything I could test myself on by jumping off of.   I loved everything about my strange habit, the nervousness leading up to leaping off an eight-foot retaining wall at my grandmother’s condo complex, the excitement of doing something any reasonable adult would probably not approve, and that crystal clear moment of free-fall before scrambling to land.  Now that I am an adult, and one without a great deal of free time/living in an urban neighborhood (parkour, anyone?), I’ve been remarkably grounded.  I’ve come to terms with this, there are plenty of other ways to get an adrenaline fix, but I think it is a valid link to my interest in the myth of Icarus, and translating that story into a new work for Mythos:Pathos.

Icarus, to seriously summarize, was the son of Daedalus, a craftsman.  Trapped on the island of Crete by King Minos, Daedalus constructed wings of wax and feathers so the two could fly to freedom.  Despite his father’s warnings to follow him and not fly too close to the sun, Icarus breaks from the plan, inevitably flies too close to the sun, and falls to the sea.  Most retellings and discussions of this tale attribute Icarus’ fall to over-ambition or hubris, but I don’t think I agree, at least not with the connotation behind ‘hubris’, or being overly ambitious!  As a storyteller it is my responsibility to represent the myth accurately, but in relating to this character I am opting to present the story (especially causes of Icarus’ extended flight) from my own perspective.  I am very lucky to approach this work as a choreographer, since the tale is indeed movement-based, but more on my movement research in a bit.

Adrenaline Amnesia.  I’m sure this isn’t an original phrase, so I won’t take credit for it, however, it is catchy and concisely sums up my thoughts on and personal connections to Icarus.  It is something, I would hope, most everyone has experienced at one point or another, and often as the result of unheeded advice.  A physical action or not, one does something contrary to advice or a mandate from an authority-figure, experiences the rush, and is much more apt to continue the action and have the advice vanish from the mind.  The obvious examples; sneaking out of high school to do [non-academic activity of choice about town] against parent/teacher rules, a taboo relationship, or physical examples; driving too fast, swimming too deep in the ocean, jumping off high objects (!), various other semi-risky and addictive activities.   It is possible that flight just feels so wonderful and freeing that Icarus keeps flying and flying, not to prove that he can, but because that authoritarian warning has simply dissolved from his mind in the euphoria of the moment?  My dislike of authority decrees is simply a coincidence here, since while I approve of the disregard, it wouldn’t be a conscious choice in this situation, now would it?

I was fortunate enough to get to experiment with both adrenaline amnesia and the physical feel of flying in an indoor skydiving session at SkyVenture NH.  Mark (Icarus performer/fellow adrenaline connoisseur) and I suited up, complete with kneepads, goggles, earplugs and of course a one-piece flight suit and made our way to the flight chamber.  My personal goals were to see if, in fact, I would fall into the 100 mph winds and experience some sort of thought-erasing euphoria, and also to experience how a body suspended in the air actually feels as movement research.  The results varied.  I was very interested to discover how whole-body the physical flying experience was.  As movers, I can say we approached learning how to fly from a different perspective and understanding than the others in our group.  Every slight shift in working muscle groups had the potential to shoot you high into the air, or bring you plummeting down to the metal grid below.  If it was allowed, I could have easily spent an hour playing with the varying effects of slight body movements in the vertical space, I could probably write an entirely separate blog post on this topic. 

Mentally, while there was no magically activated euphoria, there was a huge sense of calm.  As an individual with a mind that’s typically thinking about 5+ different things at once, and also probably 3 irrelevant distracting things in addition to that (attention defi-what?) I found this strange peaceful nothingness that was really quite lovely.  Perhaps it was caused by serious wind rushing past my ears, but also it was the first occurrence in an indefinite amount of time that I was completely separate from the rest of the world.  No verbal communication was possible in the wind tunnel, no iPhones or electronics to use, the wind blocked my ears… I wasn’t even connected to the ground.  For 6 minutes, I was a completely independent-free-floating body suspended in air, and while I didn’t have that stomach-twisting, blood-pumping, heart-racing thrill, I found a sort of break from the world.

Phew!  Does this prove anything I set out to investigate?  Not fully.  However, I’m satisfied with my own Icarus story, as we approach performance, and I am completely content to think about this myth for months to come.  I hope my artistic liberty with Icarus serves to let viewers feel free enough to question the myth, my retelling, and of course to enjoy the piece as a whole.