Rollercoasters

So how many of you enjoy rollercoasters?  The sound of the clicking of the gears as your cart is slowly lifted up to the top of, God only knows, how high of a hill...  The wind on your face, the rush of intensity you feel as you plunge forward, your stomach feeling like it's somewhere up in your throat...  The thrill of the dip as you gain momentum going around that nail-biting turn and then coming to the abrupt halt as the air-breaks release that hissing sound?   I LOVE rollercoasters :-)  Somehow starting Red Bucket Dance Theatre and producing our first show, sure feels like one hell of a rollercoaster ride....

Finding Inspiration

Inspiration  for choreography can come from many places.  It can be a soft, subtle moment, or something that smacks you right in the face unexpectedly.  Either way, I love the moment when inspiration strikes.  Here are just a few things that inspire me.

The Rain

The Glow of a Warm Fire

A Good Book

or

The Majesty of a Beautiful Sunset 

So what inspires you?

Enjoying the Process

When being a part of an artistic endeavor like concert dance, there is a great deal of time spent developing the choreography called, "The Process".  I'm not sure who coined the phrase, but I didn't start using it until a few years back while teaching dance to college students.  Essentially, "The Process" is the amount of time the choreographer takes to create a piece.  It can take days, weeks, months, or even years to develop and put on stage a cohesive piece of choreography.  I absolutely love the process of creating choreography, but I didn't always feel this way.  Truthfully, "The Process" can look very different depending on whether you're the director/choreographer or you're the dancer.

As a dancer, I couldn't wait to be on stage performing for an audience.  I LOVED to perform.  However, the countless hours in a studio seemed tedious to me, at times.  Don't get me wrong, I loved taking dance classes.  I loved learning technique and testing my abilities.  Walking into a dance studio, the smell of the wood floor, the feel of the barre, the shimmer of the lights reflecting off the mirror, always make me feel like the little girl that fell in love with ballet, so many years ago.  But there are also many memories of insecurity, frustration, and physical pain.  There is a lot that goes on mentally while learning someone else's movement.  There's a certain amount of give and take that's involved.  Not only do you have to learn the sequence of steps, but in the correct timing and with the proper nuances while portraying the emotion that the choreographer envisions.  Sometimes it comes easy, and sometimes it's painfully difficult.  If you have one tiny amount of self-doubt, the task feels almost impossible.  Add into that any degree of temperament from the choreographer or dancer, and it can even feel like a ticking time bomb.  Due to my own tenacity and perfectionist ideals, I could be a very temperamental dancer in the process.  It's not that I meant to be disrespectful, but I was strong-willed and insecure.  I was like the mare that doesn't want to be tamed.  I would sometimes be yielding, then lazy, then spirited, then defiant.  I honestly don't know why any choreographer put up with me?????  All I can say now is that I was being chased by my own demons, and wish I could go back and learn it all again.

I didn't really start to enjoy the process until a few years ago.  It's amazing how things transfer into your everyday life.  I think I've struggled through every personal phase in my life, fretting over why things didn't turn out the way I planned, or why couldn't this have happened sooner....the list is endless.  It took a small, almost insignificant moment for the epiphany to occur.  I was making breakfast for my eldest daughter, Gwendolyn, who was probably 5 years old at the time.  I handed her the plate with a knife and a fork and asked her if she'd like to cut up her own waffle, and commented on how she would be such a "big girl".  When I came back to see how she liked her breakfast, she was sitting there with tears streaming down her face, her waffle left untouched.  When I asked her what was the matter, she explained to me through her tears that she couldn't cut her waffle.  I saw, in that moment, her sense of failure.  And with tears welled up in my own eyes, I told her that if you try something and don't succeed, it's called practice. 

Since that moment, I've learned to enjoy the process.  It has been such a huge relief.  John Lennon once wrote, "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."  Now as I journey through life, I try and remind myself to not make too many insurmountable expectations.  And by doing so, I hope that I can enjoy the process both in and out of the studio....

Fear

Fear is a funny thing.  It can paralyze you, motivate you, or make you do stupid things.  It is completely subjective but can be felt kinetically as it changes the environment around you.  It can take you on a frantic rollercoaster ride, or push you into a deep, dark cave.  People are afraid of many things, some with reason, some without....but everyone experiences fear.  Fear of failure has never been a problem of mine...probably because I've had much success.    I have a happy, beautiful family, an established career in a profession that I love, a nice home, and food on my table.  Yes, I have many things to be thankful for.  By starting something that takes huge risk, that challenges both your psyche and your physical being, that exposes your vulnerabilities to your peers and community....I now understand the fear of failure.

The debut show of our dance collaboration, "Red Bucket Dance Theatre" is the biggest step, artistically, that I've ever taken.  To say that it has put me on a rollercoaster ride of fear, is an understatement.  Any artistic endeavor that I've done previously, has been in safe, educational environments.  The adage that "the outcome is not as important as the process" has shielded me from harsh judgment or given me an escape clause if things didn't turn out successfully.  But there is no escape clause on this one....either we succeed or we fail....and there will be judgment, believe me.  Dancers know how to be critical.  So why put myself through such mental torture??  Because I'm an artist.  Deep down, I truly am.  And I don't know how else to be.  I have to show the world my deepest, darkest thoughts and my most intimate experiences so that I can release them from my being to feel sane.  I know, it sounds crazy, but sometimes I FEEL crazy.

I heard an interview with Johnny Depp recently that gave me some peace.  For those of you, that don't know me, Johnny Depp is the end-all, be-all!!! Shooo, that boy is fine!!!  Sorry, I digress.... He said "failure is something I don't fear, whether I fail or succeed, it is my experience, it's mine.  I own it."  So, I will leave you with that thought and a beautiful picture of the man who thought it :-)  Thanks for listening.

My Project

When I was a child, I had an innate ability to direct those around me.  I would climb up into our attic which had been converted into a playroom and create productions for hours: "The Strawberry Shortcake Show"  "Sesame Street's Disco Hour" "Land of the Lost meets George Jetson".   It wasn't until my third-grade of school that I actually produced something with a true audience.  Somehow I convinced my teacher, Mrs. Washington, that our class should have a talent show and perform for the whole school.  Amazingly, she let me do it.  She set aside time to let me create within the school day, and encouraged the other children to participate.  I performed several dances, directed some skits, and let other children have an opportunity to create something.  We performed for our entire school and our families.  What seems amazing to me now looking back, is what a tenacious child I was, and what a wonderful teacher I had in Mrs. Washington. 

Walking the tightrope

One of the things that I find most challenging as a mother and artist is finding balance between the two worlds. I often joke about being a Gemini and being torn between my two personalities. I've even facetiously given my alter-ego a name, "Lola". When I'm feeling overly temperamental or aggressive, I'll sometimes say, "Watch out, Lola's coming out with her bad self!!" But truthfully, the divide in my personality haunts me daily as I long to be the creative being I picture in my heart. So, as I change the 10th diaper for the day, wipe the kitchen table one more time, or referee the latest battle between my two tumultuous daughters, I often feel the guilt of my egocentric soul who secretly wishes to be dancing and singing the night away on the stage of the local opera house....Believe me, I know the joy of parenthood, of being a loving wife and a happy homemaker. I would never change a moment of what I have for anything...but balancing the two desires of my being is like walking a tightrope while holding a plate on each hand...the slightest bobble can lead to an emotional pitfall into the great unknown...