My New Year Toast

“I am my own biggest critic. Before anyone else has criticized me, I have already criticized myself. But for the rest of my life, I am going to be with me and I don't want to spend my life with someone who is always critical. So I am going to stop being my own critic. It's high time that I accept all the great things about me.” ~ C. JoyBell C.


This just about sums up my world right now.  This quote by the contemporary writer and blogger, C. JoyBell C., hits the nail on the head firmly and squarely.  I've been beating myself up for way to long...and it is time to change my attitude and forgive myself for not being perfect <huge gasp>.  Or in fact, to embrace myself as being absolutely perfect...in my own unique, individual way: flawed, humble, and a little bit OCD. 
This past year has been one of the most challenging of my life.  The failure of a business and the stress of the economics of our times brought me to one of the lowest points that I've ever experienced.  Little Miss Perfectionist has had a difficult time processing all of these burst bubbles.  But the great thing about life is that just when you start becoming a little too self-absorbed, something or someone comes along that puts you in your place.  Only then does the epiphany transpire.  For me, there is such a sense of rebirth, a liberation; shedding the old skin and feeling the fresh, tender, regenerated self bursting forward.  I'm excited for this new phase of discovery and profoundly grateful for this sense of acceptance.  CARPE DIEM!
So a little note to my critics...I am absolutely a REAL person, not a fake one.  I don't know how to be any other way.  If I'm happy, you'll know it.  If I'm angry, you'll know it.  If I'm not talking, it is because I don't know how to.  Simply put.  It takes me time to process emotion, because it is all-consuming for me.  It is maddening, and exasperating, but it at least shows that I care....sometimes, way more than I should.  Those that truly love me don't judge me for this, and for that I feel truly blessed. I'm learning how not to judge others as well, which is easier said than done...hence, one of my flaws.  But now that I've been able to reach the other side of my epiphany, the world seems exciting and new.  So as we celebrate the festivities of the holidays and ring in the new year, I look forward to one with endless possibilities...like turning 40...Yikes!

CASHing in...

One of my main goals as a dance artist is to support and promote dance in my community.  I recently had the opportunity to perform in a local dance company production (the title of which is under wraps for the time being until rights are verifed by estate holders.)  This highly entertaining show was conceived and choreographed by Sunny Staton-Mitchell whom I've had the pleasure of working with previously at the Sacramento Ballet.  Though I only had a small part, I had a blast working with the other dancers and musicians who lent there talents in making the show a success.  This was a refreshing and fun adrenaline shot for my soul :-) Here are a few candid pictures of what transpired from a backstage perspective:

The messy ladies' dressing room

The costume rack.  We all love to wear red crinoline right?

 

Show order listed backstage...just in case...

 

 

Dancers waiting for an entrance

I'm the one in the flowered dress :-)

Peggy and I waiting offstage for our next scene...

The big Swing Dance number performed by such beautiful dancers!

After the Grand Ole' Opry number

Here I am with Peggy Lanza, another dancer that I reconnected 

with from way back in the day...small dance world!

Support dance in Sacramento!!  We have a vibrant and rich dance community here that could use more funding and recognition.  The more we help, the better the landscape...

That's a wrap, folks!

Musings...

Today, I'm going to talk about dance.  Why?  Because it helps me in the process of being an artist.  I know that this wonderful invention of blogging on the Internet is somehow therapeutic and also about networking, but it still terrifies me to write my real feelings out completely.  I've always been someone to put on a happy face.  I don't like the feeling of being sad.  Especially when you reveal your flaws or your darkness to the entire world to read.  It's frightening to think about.  So why do it?  I guess for me, it's a way to purge, to let the darkness go. So that I can move forward and feel more free.  How does this relate to dance?  Simply put, dance is every bit as liberating. It gets you out of your head and puts your focus back into your own body, allowing you to feel; the rhythm of your heartbeat, the strength of your muscles, the articulation of your bones, and the joy of your inner spirit.   I always feel better after I dance. 
When I was in my twenties, I was privileged enough to dance in a professional dance company for five years.  We were salaried employees, doing up to five different shows a year where each one ran for two weeks, dancing over 20 hours a week, and loving every minute of it.  The feeling of pushing your body to it's ultimate limits, the adrenaline, the endorphins, the sheer physical pain, is liberating and a huge high.  Not only that, the people that experience these feelings with you become your family. A dance family.  There are so many things that I shared with the people in that dance company.  I love them to this day...even if we didn't always get along or their habits drove me crazy.  I still feel that kindred spirit and I miss them terribly. 
The sadness I feel is that I so want another opportunity to be a part of a family like that.  A place to explore, and be creative.  I don't necessarily need to perform myself, but I would love to be around other artists that can challenge me and support me and accept me for who I am.  I just haven't found the right place or the right time.  So I continue on, alone.  And I guess I'm learning to be okay with that.  It's all part of the process, right?  I'm still living my life, as a mother and wife, a teacher, and a choreographer.  Someone said to me quite recently, "you don't have to be all things to all people".  I know this.  But having a place to belong as an artist doesn't seem like I'm asking too much, does it?  Always reaching for perfection...

This is a picture of Johnathan Cameron and myself...way back in the day :-)

Doing my civic duty...

Yes, I went and voted today.  I wish that more informed voters would.  This year being a Presidential campaign makes it even more exciting.  Even my 7 year old knows who she would like to vote for.  Unfortunately voting nowadays feels like casting your wishes into the wind, as nothing ever seems to get accomplished and everything gets tied up in bureaucratic red tape.  I just want a clean, safe environment to raise my children in; a decent economy to provide my children with the food they need (that isn't full of bad chemicals); well-rounded education for them; and more art funding so that I can do what I love to do...pretty simple, right?

 (I think the answer is obvious, don't you?)

                          My son tagged along. 
              He's learning what to do at a young age :-)

 

 I love that the American Flag is hanging there.

 I'm not sure how everyone felt about my son standing under the voting booths, but my Mom didn't seem to care.

                                                           Wearing my sticker proudly!

Snapshots of a Fall Day

Fall just happens to be my favorite time of year.  I think it has something to do with the colors, or maybe the crisp cool air of a Fall evening.  We don't get nearly as brisk of temperatures here in Northern California as other parts of the country, but we do get the colors of the leaves.  Here are just a few snapshots from a wonderful day spent with my family.

This is the front step to our house, a ranch style built in 1964.  My son loves the scarecrows!

 I love decorating for the different holidays.

We spent the morning prepping the backyard for the winter.  

This maple tree hasn't quite turned it's leaves yet.

My husband built the playhouse/treehouse.

Aunt Kathy came to visit and helped Angie ride her bike without the training wheels.

Here she goes!!!

Now Zane wants in on the action.

We had an impromptu game of soccer in the front of our house, Gwen's the soccer girl.

Just another relaxing day at the Ross house.

Slowing Down and Taking Stock

So do you have a bucket list?  This idea is not new I'm sure, but it became mainstream through the movie, "The Bucket List" starring Jack Nickolson and Morgan Freeman about two terminally ill men who head off on a road trip with a wish list of to-dos before they die.  Though I'm not terminally ill...Thank God! I am facetiously declaring myself as going through a mid-life crisis. I've recently started to think about writing my own bucket list.  Obviously, traveling and spending time with family would be a high priority on anyone's bucket list...but I'm afraid that what I need most before I die is slowing down and taking stock of what beautiful things surround me in this world.  It doesn't sound very adventurous, does it?  While my recent quest for reinvention has been quite the challenging process, I've come to realize that living your life with anger, animosity, fear, resentment, or envy drains yourself more than it does the people you hold these feelings towards.  So like the tides of the ocean, I'm letting any and all of these emotions float swiftly out to sea and choosing to surround myself with the people and things that make me feel good.  Plain and simple.  So here's to a new outlook on life.  I can finally let the sad, wounded and misused part of my psyche be laid to rest.  So now it's time to sit down and write that to-do list..

This picture makes me smile, as my dear friend Nolan often referred to our former business adventure in just this particular way...

Reading the "Casual Vacancy"

Anyone who truly knows me, knows that I LOVE Harry Potter.  I own 6 wands, the Time-Turner, my very own Quill, all the books including Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Quidditch Through the Ages, and the Tales of Beedle the Bard, all the movies, and several fan T-Shirts and other Hogwarts apparel.   Yup, I'm a geek.  Eventually you'll find me at a Muggle convention, when I don't have mountains of laundry and 120 dance critiques to grade... So when I found out that J.K. Rowling was publishing her first post-Harry book, I immediately ordered a copy on Amazon.  I received the book at the end of September, with it's red and yellow book cover that felt rigid while holding. I just finished it today and I think that says something about the book.  It took a while for me to read it.  I'll admit that it was hard for me to let go of the Harry Potter world. My immediate dissatisfaction with the language in the book, so different from the world of Muggles and Wizards left me feeling disappointed. But I knew that I had to keep reading, kind of like a pill you have to hold your breath and force yourself to swallow. I was desperately routing for one of my favorite authors to succeed.  And ultimately, I think she did.

The story takes place in a small English town called Pagford after the death of a Parish Councillor named Barry Fairbrother.  Rowling throws over a dozen new characters at you, one right after the other, which left me confused and adrift as to how to follow the tale.  This was where disappoint started to sink in, as I couldn't put down any of the Harry Potter books after the first few pages due to the rich vocabulary and magically creative scenarios Rowling had created.  Somehow though, the meandering tale of the "Casual Vacancy" started to become focused and I found myself quickly turning the page to see what cataclysmic event would fall on one of the self-absorbed residents of Pagford. Eventually, she had me ignoring my children and burning my bacon as my nose was buried deep in the book, in anticipation of the dramatic conclusion.  I closed the book feeling satisfied, proud of her for bravely breaking free of the Harry Potter chain around her neck.

The book is not perfect, and comes across a little depressing and preachy.  But I could definitely see things that made me smile as a Rowling fan: the name of the deceased pivotal character, Fairbrother, shows her use of blending words together to emphasize the personality of a character, a favorite trait of mine within the Harry Potter series. Her activism for social issues such as racism, sexism, and socio-economic politics shows her darker thoughts towards society and it's unavoidable downfalls.  And finally, her ability to peal layers away from a character over time so that you begin to understand truly what makes them tick, shows that we all have good and evil within us though some more than others, is probably her strongest attribute as a writer.  At times it feels very Dickensian, but with a modern twist; and the sex scenes and vulgar language almost feel jabbing, as if to say <insert middle finger> to the confines of Harry Potter mania.  But I think she definitely deserves the right to do so living through the global obsession with all things Wizard and Muggle. I just long for a little more of Rowling's cheeky humor in her next writing adventure.  

So am I still a Rowling fan? Absolutely.  I'm excited to see what new tales she puts forth for my reading pleasure in the future.  Though I have to admit, I hope they don't center in the town of Pagford.  I'm happy to leave that vicinity to rest on the shelf.

Finding my key

As I sit in this dark tunnel, continuing my quest for reinvention and self-exploration, I have discovered something that I believe will be profound in my life.  With the guidance of the small clues that have passed my way (Alice and her white rabbit, the light at the end of the tunnel, the boy in the movie that is searching for the lock that will be opened with the key) I have come to understand where my energy has been for several years.  It is amazing, the power of energy.  It can truly keep you going if focused correctly, or it can wear you down like a sputtering, dilapidated engine.  For some time, in fact maybe my entire life time, I have spent my energy on pleasing other people, sometimes to the point of self-deprivation.  I have had moments where I realized this, stepped back from those people, and then moved away from them.  Sometimes this separation from "those" people has been simple and uncomplicated, and other times it has been...to say the least, excruciatingly painful.  Up until now, I've been confused as to why I gravitate towards people who will consume all my energy and give me little in return, putting the focus back on them and their faults.  But I think I've found another clue in this tunnel...

I recently came across a quote by William Hazlitt (I am REALLY in to quotes lately), who is an English writer and social commentator of the early 19th Century.  The quote read, "He will never have true friends who is afraid of making enemies." 

As I sit here, with my head still baffled by these words, I realize that there are two points of interest in this quote.  One is the idea of true friendship being about honesty, being able to say things that may be difficult to hear but necessary to say.  The other point of interest is the judgement of others who appear weak, who are afraid.  This is really what first struck me about this quote.  It resinates in my soul and makes my heart hurt a little, because I realize that I AM THE ONE WHO IS AFRAID. 

I am the one who is weak, and yes many people have judged me for it.  And for many years, that made me even more sad and made me try harder to have people like me.  I allowed former boyfriends to treat me less than I deserved because I didn't want to be alone.  I allowed my family to control my life because I was afraid to deal with the repercussions of standing up to them.  I allow my children to get away with too much because I want them to love me.  I allow my students to be disrespectful because I have low self-esteem.  I allow my friends to take control because I am afraid of failure.    Because I....because I....  This is the phrase that I understand now.  I gave the power away, I gave the energy away...because I am afraid.   I am weak.   

I could live my life in a pool of other people's judgement, drowning in low self-esteem as I have done for many, many years.  Years of wasted energy....

At 39 years old, I am ready to live my life in a new way....with boundaries.   To only let energy flow equally in relationships.  To not be passive-aggressive.  To establish real friendships based on mutual love, trust, and honesty.  And to be absolutely okay that people may not like me...that I may not be popular...that I may be different...that I may be alone.  And it is okay.

The boy in the movie found a key and he hoped that it would give him the answer he was looking for. He put all his time and energy into finding the lock that fit that key.  Until he could let go of that key, he couldn't find his true reward...acceptance.   Only then could he gain confidence and learn to fly through the air. 

I have found my reward, my key that fits my lock...and it gives me the peace and acceptance to fly.  I realize that I am a leader, that people look to me for guidance, that they want me to be strong, and that they will tear me down if I am weak.  But what I have come to realize is that I don't care either way.  I am a human being first, humble and flawed.  And those that judge me for that will drift away drowning in their own pools.  I could choose to follow or learn to fly on my own...with my key. 

What is guiding you?

Do you believe in fate? Or karma? Or that some higher being is guiding you through life?  Personally, I would like to think so.  Because at some point, it helps to be able to throw your hands up in the air and say, "I can't control this, somebody tell me what to do!!!"  Relying on the idea of a higher power, or a kismet circumstance, gives me a sense of peace but also a path to follow, even if it is a figment of my imagination.  I read a quote recently that struck me: "Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around in awareness." by James Thurber.  This quote spoke to me profoundly.  Was the act of seeing this quote, random?  Or was it a guiding marker on my path, speaking to me personally, if and only if I'm aware enough to listen.  Believe what you want, but I'm starting to be aware of my surroundings and listening for guidance.  I randomly came across a movie on HBO (which we have as a free trial), "Incredibly Close and Extremely Loud".  As I cried my way through the movie, I felt like someone was speaking to me personally.  The little boy's journey to discover what door the key opened while processing the grief of his father was moving and metaphorical.  As I've been sifting through depression trying to process my feelings, I've referenced feeling lost in the dark, searching for doors that are too small with keys that are too large....creating choreography about the Falling Man jumping from the towers and fixating on the horror...I felt like my last year and a half's struggle was being portrayed through this desperate little boy.  Random or not?  As I walked out of my rehearsal Friday, beginning to feel confident again...an unknown, female student was standing in the hallway wearing a purse with a picture of Alice in Wonderland on it.  I took note, smiled and breathed deeply.  Yes, this is my path, these are my markers, and my steps are becoming more confident.

Rediscovering Myself

It's amazing how honing in on the simple things in life really bring things into perspective.  As part of my process of reinventing myself, I've begun to focus on the things that make me feel unique and special; simply put, the things I've always loved.  I've started to read again, and not just my favorite books that I've read a hundred times...but new novels and new authors.  I feel smarter somehow when I read and live in imaginary worlds.  I finished the "Hunger Games" trilogy, which I loved, and now reading "The Help".  I know, I'm way behind on the latest novels...bear with me.  But I'm so excited because I've just pre-ordered my copy of the new J.K. Rowling book, "The Casual Vacancy".  Super excited to cuddle under a warm blanket, by the fire, and read while my hubby watches football....

Moving on...

A few months back I posted about feeling trapped in a dark tunnel; afraid and paralyzed.  Time has passed and the relief I feel is overwhelming, because I see the light at the end of the tunnel now.  It is still a small light and a great distance away...but at least it's there.  I know now, why I'm in the tunnel and what I need to do to get out.  There are going to be several steps and many things that I have to prove to myself, but I'm starting to feel excitement as I reach for this light.  The truth of the the matter is, I'm really not a depressed person normally.  If people were to describe me before, they would say, "happy, go lucky", "sweet-tempered", "fun".  So the beginning of the journey starts with "what happened to that girl?" 
I think, she found herself in a place where doors were too small, and keys were too big, and white rabbits ran off leaving her behind.  She tried to make sense out of a world that had no sense.  Because, it wasn't her world to begin with.  She didn't belong there.
That is a huge pill to swallow. She didn't belong....Insert long dramatic pause....
So moving through the pain of rejection, not able to fit into this place that she so wanted to call home, nothing she did or said made her welcome...  
The epiphany has come...right key, wrong door.  Somewhere, there is another door, another house that fits that key....so the key wasn't bad, it shouldn't be disregarded.  It simply is waiting to find it's match.

One tiny step forward...

A few weeks back, I attended a workshop for one of my favorite choreographers, Joe Goode.  He is a modern choreographer located in the bay area who's company, Joe Goode Performance Group, has become one of the major voices for dance on the west coast.  Uplifting my life for a week, leaving the children, and venturing to San Francisco to attend 8 hours of dance exploration each day was exhilarating and terrifying.  There were so many emotions I was shifting through each day that I can't even explain in detail what I learned from this experience.  I am glad that I did it, though.  Joe Goode is a very compassionate, warm, intelligent, and articulate artist who creates an environment where you can explore openly.  You walk in and are immediately put at ease by him and his dancers.  It was an experience that I'll always treasure. 

Here is some pictures of some impromptu choreography that I created with my wonderful fellow workshop attendees:

On the Bandwagon

Yes, I've finally joined the bandwagon. I just finished the Hunger Games trilogy and enjoyed it immensely.  It wasn't as good as the Harry Potter series, but definitely better than Twilight.  I'm super excited to see the movie now!  I definitely feel like camping in the woods after reading it and want to lower my caloric intake to 500 calories a day just so I can whoop some ass with a bow and arrow!  Girls rule!

In the Dark

According to the Webster Dictionary, the definition of "reinvent" reads as follows:

1 : to make as if for the first time something already invented <reinvent the wheel>

2 : to remake or redo completely

3 : to bring into use again 

Hmmmmm, sounds daunting.   But this is where I find myself.  In somewhat of a mid-life crisis.  Who would of thunk it?  I'm only 39...There are many things that I do not know...but a couple that I do.  For the past 35 years, my life has been consumed by dance...the love of my life, really.  I've always known that I had to be a part of it somehow.  It has been a journey through twisting and turning roads and sometimes along precarious cliffs...but now I find myself in a tunnel, and it's pitch black.  I can't even see my hand in front of my face, and I'm trying to feel my way.  I keep reaching out to people I think are there, but no one materializes.  It scares me to death.  I've never known life without dance, or at least, not that I can remember.  But something keeps speaking to me in the dark, a voice saying "reinvention, reinvention".  Who is it? And what does it mean?   

When I was a little girl, my mother signed me up through a children's talent agency.  I was sent on several auditions for films, commercials and equity-stage opportunities.  During each audition, I became so overwhelmed with fear that I would freeze up and start crying uncontrollably.  Could you imagine?  The directors, assistants, and other important adults on busy time schedules all standing around looking at me with contempt and annoyance.  My parents would become exasperated, not knowing what to do.  This made me cry even more, feeling guilty for embarrassing them and disappointing them.  I hated those long rides home in our family car.  There was one final call from the talent agency, for an opportunity for another audition.  My mother tersely said no, we weren't interested in auditioning anymore and hung up the phone.  I begged and begged for her to let me try, that I could do it...but she said no.  And that was that.  To this day, I don't do well in auditions. 

I'm not sure why this memory speaks to me while I'm in the tunnel...but it does.  I often wonder if I would have done well in that audition or if I would have cried again, or if I would have miraculously gotten the job?  These things I'll never know.  I don't like being in the tunnel, unsure of what's there and what's not....but I can't see the opening yet.  I'm still trying to feel my way...