Nutcracker time!

Yes, it is that time of year again...  Nutcracker time.  That means a zillion different dance studios doing their various interpretations of Tchaikovsky's classic Ballet, or Gene Kelly inspired Holiday Recitals, or if you are bored, you can sit back and people-watch at your local mall an improvisation of frantic shoppers performing to a barrage of Christmas tunes as they push and shove their way towards their next purchase.  For those of us old enough to remember Mikhail Baryshnikov dancing in the American Ballet Theatre's television special of the Nutcracker, there will never be another version to compare with what my 5 year-old heart witnessed.  But I think that is the point really.  Our first viewing of the Nutcracker is magical.  And the first time you get to dance in the Nutcracker is beyond magical.  The Nutcracker Ballet is a tradition that exemplifies the real magic of the Christmas season, as seen through the eyes of a child.   I was so blessed this year to be able to share that experience with my daughters at their own little dance studio...creating traditions of our own.  Happy Holidays everyone!  And much love to you into the New Year.  I hope that it is a good one.

To Blog or Not to Blog

When I started this blog three years ago, I didn't understand exactly where the journey of blogging would take me.  I saw it as a way to discuss my choreographic process while starting a collaborative dance company with colleagues and friends.  I didn't realize the emotional refuge this blog would become or the anxiety it would give me to share dark thoughts online for the world to criticize.  Sharing has been cathartic, but very painful....almost like peeling the skin from third degree burns.  So I've been debating, do I continue to blog?  As I have come to terms with my artistic decisions, and grieved the loss of dreams and friends....I am happy to say that I love the idea of blogging more now than I ever have in the past, as I feel like a wounded warrior who has come home much wiser. 

I am taking a hiatus from choreography, choosing to be an observer of life for a while, I've enrolled in Graduate Studies in Education...continuing to test boundaries and enhance my love for teaching.  Dance Pedagogy and the environment in which we choose to train dancers is now a vast landscape of debate and analysis for me.   I'm also focusing on observing more art, film, dance and theater.  Trying to find the love again...with that, comes my own journey of learning to move this very different body, after four surgeries and three babies.    Martha Graham and Twyla Tharp continue to inspire me with there longevity as female dance artists.  There is a lot to explore, and hopefully even more to share here online.  Thank you....for sticking with me through these last few years.  I know this journey hasn't been an easy one to witness, but I do appreciate all of the words of encouragement and nudges to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

So I leave you with this beautiful image that I was able to witness in person recently at the Zellerbach Theatre, UC Berkeley.  It is Netherlands Dance Theatre.  Truly the only word to describe them and their beautiful dancers is PERFECTION.  Peace and love to the blogging world.  xoxo...




Netherlands Dance Theatre

The day life begins...

You suffer in silence for so long, walking through the motions, feeling lost but knowing that your heartache has a purpose...and then there comes a day where you wake up, and just like that, everything is okay.  I don't know how to describe it any other way.  It's almost like not caring...but really it's understanding.  It's acceptance.  It's letting go of the anger that turned into depression.  And all of sudden you allow yourself to be happy, to feel, to live.  You realize that you deserve it.  I still don't know the place that choreography has in my heart right now.  But it doesn't scare me anymore to have the unknown.  I'm enjoying just living.  Here are some words of wisdom that I've heard lately that has helped me on this journey...

"I stopped. I stopped for 10 years...I just didn't want to do it anymore.  But it's okay, because now I have the love again...now I'm having a lot of fun."

"There are people that I call "dream stealers".  They just want to take your dreams away.  Don't let them.  Don't give up.  You can do it."

"The best day of your life is the one on which you decide that your life is your own.  No apologies, no excuses.  No one to lean on, rely on, or blame.  The gift is yours - it is an amazing journey - and you alone are responsible for the quality of it.  This is the day your life really begins."


Thank you to these wise individuals.  I'm learning...

Here's a few snapshots of my day.  Loving life...

My Life of Pi

When I was younger, I danced in a professional dance company for 5 years.  The artistic director of the company, had been my professor in college and she mentored me through my early years of creating choreography.  She was like a mother to me in many ways.  She guided me, she gave me feedback, she gave me opportunity, she took me under her wing.  I felt special.  I basked in the glow of feeling loved and appreciated.  My peers and I battled for her attention and often became jealous of each other, but in the end she gave each of us the attention that we needed.

Then, there came a time when I felt like I wasn't growing, where I was stagnant.  I began to fear that I would never amount to anything.  I felt like I was being left behind by my peers whom had ventured off and moved on to "bigger and better things".  I became very unhappy and resentful; doubting my own abilities, and lashing out at my mentor in frustration.   At some point I knew that I had to go off and explore; to find new things to inspire me.  I needed to see if the grass was really greener on the other side.  I told my mentor that I wanted to quit.  It was the hardest thing that I had ever done, because I was so afraid of her reaction.  But to my surprise she embraced me in a warm hug, and told me that she knew that I was ready, and proceeded to help me come up with an audition video.  All of the fears and trepidation, I realized, were of my own imagination.  I am so thankful that I was brave enough to be honest with her.  To communicate with her my feelings.  To this day, we still talk and I look to her for guidance at times.  I consider her a dear friend.

It's amazing, in life, how things come full circle.  

When the idea of Red Bucket Dance Theatre started to come to fruition, many mistakes were made.  I see that now.  There never was a discussion about what each person expected to give and receive from its forming.  Nobody really knew what their roles would be.  Ownership seemed very vague and ambiguous.  We all had a stake in it and we all thought it was ours.  I think that there wasn't a level head among us to keep communication clear and focused.  Amazing things can happen when you have a group of very creative people together.  But there always seemed to be too many cooks in the kitchen; too many sensitive people.  It felt like riding a raft down the Colorado River for the first time, but blindfolded.  At times it was thrilling, but at times it was too much.  I do take pride in the art that was created.  I think that a great deal of it was beautiful.  But in the end...just like a good marriage, you have to have a solid relationship built on trust and communication.  There are outside forces that you come up against that you have to weather together. And whatever personal demons haunt each of you, you have to trust that the other person has your back. 

I recently watched the movie "Life of Pi".  It is an amazing film directed by one of my favorite directors, Ang Lee.  Every single frame of his films could be a beautiful painting by itself.  The film was a thrilling adventure, ripe with metaphors.  There came a moment in the film, that has haunted me since: the carnivorous island.   It is the beautiful place that seems to be like heaven, filled with amazing creatures, and a safe haven to explore.  But underneath, you sense that it is dangerous; that at any moment you could be eaten alive.  Just like Red Bucket Dance Theatre.  It pains me to say that.  I almost feel like I should hit the delete button and erase those last few sentences.  But I'm trying really hard to be truthful. And to communicate.  Something I haven't been able to do lately.  Because we are all suppose to pretend that everything will be okay and that "we'll all be friends again".  In the end, I felt like I was talking and no one was listening.  That I somehow appeared like a grotesque creature that spoke a language that they didn't understand, and that they made fun of.  That I was tolerated, but resented.  I had been eaten from the inside out.

I understand now.  Just like my former college professor that mentored me, that they began to resent my presence.  They looked at me and only saw my flaws.  They needed to grow and to explore, and they felt stagnant and controlled.  But unlike the me from long ago, they couldn't communicate those feelings.  And that's where I find myself now.  Very aware.  But very hurt that they couldn't be honest with me. 

There was so much thrown at me, through this experience.  Students that I had mentored for many years and got to know on a personal basis, won't speak to me now for various reasons.  Some of them weren't in the company, and resented that they weren't included.  Some have since moved on to other things and feel that they are above me now; only gracing me with their presence when they have to see me.  Some experienced that ride down the Colorado River with me and feel too raw and vulnerable to keep me as friends.  And some don't really care either way.  I understand.  I am very aware.

I am not angry or hurt for people feeling these things.  I understand every one of those feelings.  I am hurt by them not trusting me enough to speak their thoughts to me.  What did I do wrong as a teacher, mentor, friend that they don't want to share their feelings with me?  Why don't they think I would want them to succeed?  Why don't they think I want them to grow and learn?  Why have they judged me so harshly?  Why must every one tiptoe around me like a diseased person and isolate me further?  This is what torments me and keeps me feeling lost and alone.

I hate the fact that I care too deeply about things that no one else seems to even ponder.  

I hate that it makes me appear needy.

I am learning to just ride these waves of emotions and to trust in them.  To trust in myself.  And that my feelings are valid.  To let the process of grieving heal me. 

At some point I will let go of the fact that I can't control other people's actions.  What this experience has taught me is that I have to be okay all by myself.  Because in the end, no one else will be there. And some day I'll be able to look at all of this as an amazing adventure filled with beautiful creatures, and that I survived.

Just like the "Life of Pi".  And I'll still call my mentor from long ago, and we'll talk about it.

Loving my instrument

If I have learned anything in the past couple of years during my mid-life crisis and cathartic rebirth of my soul, learning to let go is one of them.  If you've been with me through this process then you've witnessed my various phases of grief and internal retrospective journey.  I have learned to let go of a lot of things by writing them here in this blog.  Letting them float out into the Nethers of cyberspace.  The release is therapeutic and hopefully has helped others in their own personal journeys.  So here I go, I'm going to release another...

I am fat.  No doubt about it.  I am 65 pounds heavier now than I was when I first got pregnant with my first child.  When I was pregnant with her, I developed Toxemia which is a fatal condition relating to toxins being held in the body that can affect both the child and the mother.  I gained 65 pounds while pregnant with her, even though she only weighed 5 pounds at birth.  Within one week of having her I lost 30 pounds of fluid that seemed to just pour out of me.  While breastfeeding and regaining my active dancer lifestyle I lost all but 10 pounds of the "baby" weight.  I felt like I could still have a place in both worlds; dancer and mother.

Then I tore my ACL.  It severely affected how I could move.  When trying to schedule surgery to repair the damaged ligament, I found out I was pregnant and had to put it on hold.  My second pregnancy went much smoother and I only gained 40 pounds.  But no matter what diet I was on, I could only lose 25 pounds; which now put me twenty five pounds over my original dancer weight.  I had the knee surgery thinking that now I would bounce back and be able to be the dancer again.  Sadly, no one can really explain how long it takes to recover from a ligament reconstruction until you experience it for yourself.  It took a full year until my knee felt normal again....and I had gained another 10 pounds.  Oh, and I forgot to mention that I had those two children by cesarean, so their went my core strength as well. I definitely felt like the war-wounded veteran.

I dieted and starved myself, hating my new body. You really don't understand the difference people make on how they treat "beautiful" people and how they treat other people until you become one of the others.  Dancers are the worst.  Dance friends that I had for years would give me that "deer in the headlights look" when they saw my new body, which appeared grotesque to them, "How could she let herself go like that".  My students to this day, give me that lifted eyebrow with their hands folded across their chest when they first meet me, with that "And who is she that thinks she can teach me how to dance?" expression...believe me, I read body language all day, I know exactly what they are thinking.  And for years, I've been silent, hurt, and angry about it.

Along came baby number three, and yes another cesarean.  My body is definitely mutilated and stretched out beyond repair now.  And four years later I haven't been able to shed any of the baby weight; even though I teach up to 15 hours of dance a week, and run around with children everywhere... the stress is high.  And still, I must get up in front of everyone and say "I'm a dancer".  But I'm letting it go, right?  It's floating out to the Nethers right now...

I've come to that point, where I really don't care anymore.  Diets don't work.  I eat healthier now than I ever ate while I was dancing 6 hours a day.  I exercise when I can.  I still dance the best that my body will allow, because I love dance.  And that is all that matters.  So here is to another new perspective on what I focus my energy on:  Enjoying the food I eat and not punishing myself for eating it, enjoying the exercise I get as fulfilling and refreshing, not punishment for being ugly, and stepping out into this world in love with this mutilated body that gave me three miracles who teach me about life every day.  For this is my body, it is my instrument as a dancer, and it sings a beautiful song.

Riding the pendulum

Being a dance teacher is something that has taken me many years of practice, and only started as something that I begrudgingly did to pay the bills while I was chasing the dragon of fame...."Fame" being the next gig that's suppose to get you closer to being rich.  And everyone knows that rich people have no problems, right?  Wahwah.  But it is such a self-esteem high when you've nailed that next gig...and you experience such lows when you don't.  And let's face it, the high you get from performing is intensely addicting.

As the top of the ladder to rich and famous became increasingly higher and out of reach, I soon discovered that teaching filled that low self-esteem void and gave me a sense of importance.  That my students were looking to me for guidance and that I somehow had knowledge that they didn't...wow.  Definitely a self-esteem booster... and somehow I was still performing, on a daily basis, for my students, keeping them entertained and maintaining their interest.   They were there for ME.  They were like my younger siblings who I could guide on the right path, making me the cool teacher.  I was hip and edgy.  Such a feeling of power that gives you, being popular. 


But along the way, my perception started to change...it became less about me...and more about them.  I truly fell in love with TEACHING.  Not only that, I began to understand the responsibility of teaching correctly...I wanted to give them the best knowledge possible.  To know the vocabulary and anatomy, to keep abreast of the latest trends.  To help them achieve their greatest potential both as a dancer and as a person.  My role changed from older sibling to Mother...nurturing them, boosting their egos, giving them everything that I had in order to send them out into the world.  The pendulum had swung to the opposite direction... I was there for them...

It's funny.  That pendulum...how it never stops in the middle.  It just keeps swinging back and forth, like a metronome...ticking away...tick, tock, like a clock.  Time is passing on...

And still there is that low self-esteem void that I'm trying to fill....

I think back to how I perceived my own teachers along the way...some of them were the cool, edgy older sibling type...I looked up to them and wanted to do anything they asked of me. The motherly/fatherly type...they had such wisdom and concern for my future...

But there were negatives as well...the older sibling types were often unorganized and dramatic/moody as hell, really.  The motherly/fatherly types often seemed out of touch or controlling, holding you back from spreading your wings...and somehow...that pendulum keeps swinging.

I'm afraid that I'm getting tired...because that void seems to be bigger now...and I wonder whether I am successful at teaching anything...oh the movement, the vocabulary is there, and we are all still going through the motions, pretending to dance in sync...but what is it that I'm really suppose to be teaching??  Why do I feel so disconnected and that every intention I have is misunderstood?  What is the next phase for me? 

I think about Martha Graham who devoted her whole life to dance.  She performed until she was 76 years old, and was working on choreography until the day she died at 96.  How did she do it?  How did she keep the enthusiasm and drive when she had to feel herself aging, becoming more and more out of touch? 

"No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others." 
~ Martha Graham

So I'm try to put one foot in front of the other and I'm trying to march forward...into the great unknown...still waiting to feel more alive...

Martha Graham by Yousuf Karsh (1948)

Climbing out of the well...

It has been a year since I decided to walk away from the dance company; to walk away from one of my dreams.  The decision was one of the hardest that I ever had to make.  The emotions and phases of grief that have come over me in waves during this past year have affected every relationship I have, both at work and at home.  My family and friends have been truly patient and rallied around me in support.  My heart swells with love unbound for them. 

The final phase of grief for me took the longest.  Anger.  I have been so angry for quite some time...

"And I fall into that spiral of anger, frustration, and endless questioning, feeling my energy getting dragged down and down. I want to crawl into my hermit-y, safe shell and hide, and resolve in the fact that people are screwed up, and nature is ultimately in control, and there’s nothing I can do about it except wallow and whine about how no one’s doing anything about it." ~ Tiny Buddha

Exactly.  It is like falling down a well that you can't get out of...

I understand now the phrase that you have to let go of anger or it will eat you up inside.  I have always considered myself an open person; happy emotions and energy flow from me like a beacon of light.  But I realize that you have to be much braver to have confrontation, to allow anger to flow from you openly; as people don't necessarily judge you when you emote happy thoughts.  When you spout feelings of anger or frustration, people respond back with the same.  And I've always been afraid of having someone be angry with me.  It is a deep-routed fear that has finally caught up with me... I can not live my life in fear anymore.

To be pushed into a dark closet, figuratively, to be shut down, to be brought down in the process and judged in the creation of your artwork is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.  To be labelled as crazy, over-reactive, or dramatic for expressing valid feelings is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.  To disrespect me as an artistic director is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.  To disrespect me as a friend is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.  To refuse to communicate with me and to push me away as if I am not a worthy human being is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.  To place yourself as the victim and me as the villain is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.  The fact that the only outlet I have to express these emotions in such a dysfunctional relationship is to write them down in this blog is absolutely wrong and I have a right to be angry about it.

HA!

...

There.

I feel much better now.  <Deep Breath In>

I have worked my way through this grief, not always with dignity or grace.  I have struggled with the choice to share these feelings online or not, but ultimately my hope is by sharing that healing will commence.  That maybe by being expressive and communicating I can move forward, trying to be a more open person.   I hope that I am not judged for it, rather that someone reading may identify with these thoughts and feelings within themselves.  Don't be afraid to stand up and shout to the rooftops if necessary!  I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!! 

I have learned to accept myself for all of my flaws.  And I hope that being open and honest is not one of them.  I have grown as a person, a wife, and as a mother during this process. That is the funny thing, when work and dance are surrounded by the worst turmoil and conflict for me, my relationships with my family become the strongest.  My husband is incredible and has proven his devotion throughout this last year.  It has been a difficult year for him as well as he has been out of work.  My husband and I have clung to each other, protecting and supporting each other as we whether these storms of adversity.  I am truly blessed. 

So I have learned many lessons this year.  I see myself and those around me with greater clarity.  And I am moving forward...growing and learning.  I am much stronger and have proven to myself that I can climb out of this well...and the view coming out is spectacular...the world is a beautiful place to explore. 

Do you have what it takes?

One of my favorite television shows that I like to watch with my girls is Project Runway.  Angie, my fashionista, enjoys it probably a little more than Gwendolyn who considers herself more the "sporty-girl".   But I enjoy watching them as they look at the designs that the contestants create and then critique them like they are serious art critics.  Fashion is high-art after all.  Something about the show resonates with me as you witness these passionate, ambitious designers trying to discover and strengthen their artistic voices while being riddled with competition and harsh criticism.  My favorite quote from tonight's episode is when one of the judges says of a contestant, "but she has tenacity and you need that in this business, especially when everyone around you is judging you at all times."

BINGO!

That's been my struggle of late.  Feeling like the whole world is judging me at all times.  It can take you to a very dark place, especially when you feel like you have no friends.  But this particular contestant to whom the judge was referring used those dark feelings whenever she was faced with criticism and created her next design with more determination.  Each time she did, she felt stronger.  That, is inspirational to me...Highly Inspirational...

Focus

Focus
1. To converge on or toward a central point of focus; be focused.
2. To adjust one's vision or an optical device so as to render a clear, distinct image.
3. To concentrate attention or energy: a campaign that focused on economic issues.

One of the tools a dancer can use in composition is Focus, drawing the dancers viewpoint (and ultimately, the audience's) to a particular place on the stage.  In life, we have a focal point as well; the thing that we point our energy towards.  This can be a person or a group of people, a career, or in some cases an addiction.  Focusing can be goal-oriented or self-destructive depending on how you use your time and energy.  I find that for the past year now, my ability to focus on details is decreasing significantly.  I find it harder and harder to pinpoint what is meaningful in situations I encounter, in fact I question practically everything about other people's motivations and intentions like some paranoid delusion.  I've begun to think that I truly have ADHD to some degree.  

When I was twenty years old, my boyfriend of 5 years decided that he wanted to date other people.  I was completely devastated.  Not because I loved him desperately...I don't know if a 15 or 16 year-old really knows what love is...but because the idea up in my head of "true love" and "happily ever after" and "what every princess deserves" wasn't going to happen.  I felt like my entire world and how I perceived life was turned completely upside down.  Forget about the fact that he really was a jerk, a liar, and a cheat who didn't deserve a single ounce of my precious love...but all I could think about for months to a year was the heartache and devastation of my "teenage dream"...<background music of Katy Perry's song can be inserted now>  It's as if my head couldn't think clearly, while my heart was broken...

So in trying to focus on what is the best path ahead for me, a central point of focus; so that I can render a clear, distinct image of myself as my BEST self; and concentrate my attention and energy on the people who mean the most in my life and truly enjoy the process...I must take my heart off of my sleeve, put it safely in my chest, cover it with my suit of armor so that I can think clearly and THEN I'll be able to focus on what's important and meaningful in any given situation???  Oy Vay!

Taking criticism

One of the attributes that defines being an artist of any kind is knowing how to take criticism.  You receive it from everywhere; from family and friends, artistic peers, media critics, students, mentors, and from your own twisted psyche.  Putting art out into the world to be judged when all art comes from a personal point of view is part of the deal.  You have to suck it up and get over it.  Sounds harsh but is truly a reality if you want to work in any artistic field.

Learning to take criticism is a work in progress for me.  My brother would facetiously call me Mary Poppins as a child because I had to be "practically perfect in every way".   I took criticism as a personal flaw that I had to fix immediately, understanding now, that I was a little girl that desperately wanted to be loved.  Anyone who knows me will tell you that my oversensitivity is my deepest vulnerability and also what makes my artistic point of view.  I call it the curse.

There comes a point in life when every thing comes full circle, as my daughter Gwendolyn has inherited the curse.   Watching her struggle through tears, punishing herself for her imperfections is heartbreaking to watch.  As I reach out, and envelop her in a hug telling her that I love her deeply no matter what, I sigh...as I'm hugging the little girl inside myself and learning to let go...

Choosing a path

Are you a planner?  Do you try and map out your life in a particular direction?  Goal oriented, with purpose...

Or maybe you enjoy the whimsy of dealing with things when they come your way?  Floating along like a feather on a breeze...  <insert the theme song of "Forrest Gump" here>

I think my dual personality, being a Gemini, has me conflicted between both traits.  I try to plan and try to focus, I love organization.  It makes me feel "in control"...but then I'll see something or I'll have an inspiration that distracts me and I'll drift off on a tangent...

I get impatient, too.  I sometimes don't understand why it takes so long to arrive at a destination.  I want what I want right NOW.  

So that's my dilemma.  Which path to take?  Hmmmm

I'm listening.  I'm open for guidance.  I'm aware of my surroundings and enjoying the energy around me.  And I feel peaceful.  So which direction on the map do I take?  Sometimes I feel like closing my eyes and pointing my finger at random and seeing where it takes me...

Am I My Resume?

I recently had to revamp my Curriculum Vitae (a highfalutin way to say resume) for work.  The process was actually meditative, as I started to analyze my career in dance displayed in words.
Thirty-five years of training, and over twenty years of professional dancing and teaching have seemed to slip through my fingers.  Does it feel like a long time?  In some ways, yes.  In other ways, I can still remember the smell of the rosin we would cover our feet with in ballet class as a little girl, and it only seems like yesterday.

I can see who I am as a dancer based on those words on that page; a little girl who loved ballet, who fell in love with theater, who became a teenager and fell in love with hip-hop, who became a young woman who fell in love with modern, who became a woman and fell in love with choreography.  It reads very simply, actually.

So I wonder why I confuse myself in who I am as a dancer??  Maybe because I see the judgement of how others perceive me...maybe because I feel trapped in teaching one genre for too long...or maybe because I'm too much of a chameleon who loves too many styles and can't focus on one direction...ADHD....
Regardless, the words on that page show a lifetime of hard work and dedication...and LOVE

Yes, I still love dance.  It will always be the love of my lifetime, I'm just learning to look at life differently and take what comes my way with open arms...




Isadora Duncan :-)

Being the Artist I Am

"There are many studies that suggest that people who go into the performing arts suffer from an external locus of identity." Translation: they seek approval from others about themselves, typically due to unmet childhood emotional needs.

This fabulous quote comes from one of the only good situation comedies on television right now: "The Big Bang Theory".  Every episode makes me smile.  I mean who couldn't love a show about a group of highly dysfunctional people who are so brilliant that they are stupid?  Dismissing all of the psycho-babble of the  above statement, is it true?  Absolutely.   Every time you create a piece of art that you consider in your mind a complete masterpiece (though you pretend to be humble by saying "oh it's just a work in progress"), secretly you are waiting on bated breath to hear the response from your audience and peers as to whether you've gotten their approval or whether you should go slit your wrists...I know, highly dramatic, but I'm an artist, remember???
The beauty of reading that statement, for me, is not the anguished response of why am I such a screwed up human being that I measure my self-worth on the fickle approval of God knows who?  Nor, is it about discovering what traumatic event in my childhood am I still trying to get over so that I prove that I am worthy?  More so, it is that I can read that statement with pride that, thank goodness, I don't have to constantly try and seek the approval of others any more.  Phew!  Lay that cross in the fire for good. 

I don't give a flying you-know-what about whether people like my art or not.  Hallelujah!!  I will not create art to seek approval nor to figure out my psychosis...I'm laying that one to rest as well.  Because truthfully, I know how painfully awkward and flawed I am as a human being...I don't need anyone else pointing it out to me or putting me in a position of inferiority.  No, as I move forward in life, I will only create art for my own enjoyment.  I will not compromise my convictions, and I will only work with people who have the willingness and eagerness to explore my world and allow me the privilege of exploring theirs.  Truthfully, it's all about getting in there and getting business done, and hoping that we've shown the world an honest portrayal of life in this crazy, screwed-up world.   Hopefully, hopefully, I'll gain wonderful friendships, learn amazing things, and take perilous situations that come my way with a grain of salt.  If I've learned anything in these last few months, it is that I am just a speck on this big huge planet that is pulsating with great possibility for human compassion.  Life can be filled with whatever energy you let in, don't ever do anything that isn't fun.  And learn to not judge others who are on their own journeys of self-exploration.  Only peace, love, and laughter...

Mirror, mirror

I heard another great quote this week.  It was while I was finishing my grading for my students, the T.V. on for background noise, "Fried Green Tomatoes" floating in and out of my consciousness, truly a must see film for anyone who loves southern culture...

"Someone helped put a mirror up in front of my face and I didn't like what I saw one bit, and you know what I did? I changed." ~ Kathy Bates as Evelyn Couch

Exactly.  Time for change.  Time to step forward and begin the next phase of my life.  I'm excited for it.  I'm excited to see what I learn about myself.  It's empowering me... The fear is gone.  The awareness is acute.  I understand now what I needed to learn and I thank the persons who held that mirror up for me, though they did it unknowingly.  For I'm the one making the conscious choice to better myself and hopefully I'll succeed.