Searching for a waterfall, but found a lake instead

Sometimes I do the nuttiest stuff.  I will definitely admit this whole-heartedly.  But most of my crazy adventures come from my over-active imagination and typically don't hurt anyone other than myself and my own ego.  So for this I am often forgiven by my loved ones. Today was one of those days.
I set out on a mission this morning to be active, to be healthy, and to be one with nature.  I love to hike.  Not necessarily too rugged of hiking as I haven't had much experience, but briskly walking in fresh air with plants, trees, and little critters around me makes me feel like I am bursting out of one of my beloved Jane Austen novels.  So after a quick Google search, I found a hiking trail that was a little over a mile and a half long and described as leading to a waterfall that is best viewed during spring.  Well seeing how today was the first day of spring AND my spring break, this sounded like the perfect adventure.  I dropped the kiddos off at school, ran a quick errand and set my Google Maps for my destination.
Now I can tell you that somewhere in my conscience, I noticed the time needed to drive to this trail' s location, and that I considered whether I was crazy for even attempting it...but somewhere logic took a backseat to my desire to frollick amongst the budding of spring, and I remember thinking that as long as I made it back by 2pm to pick up the kiddos from school, I would be fine.
Well somewhere on the side of a mountain on a winding road that made me feel clammy and queasy, I began to wonder about my sanity.  Needless to say I never found the trail as the road dead-ended into a snowbank with a sign that read "road closed until April 1st".  Who knew that Spring didn't officially come to the El Dorado forest until April?  Here is a picture I took after driving out of the snowy parts on my way back:

As I drove back trying to find civilization, thinking of the Donner Party and imagining the lecture that my Mother would be giving me about serial killers who troll the woods looking for hapless females, I felt stupid, ridiculous, and defeated until I made it back to the freeway entrance and cellphone reception.  After 2 hours into my adventure I was determined not to drive back home without stepping one foot out of my car, so I did a quick search for another hiking trail and settled on a spot closer towards the city of Pollock Pines (at least a town that I knew that had gas, fast food, and an escape route close to the freeway from any treacherous, no-teethed, lunatics that might be lurking around as my Mother would have prophesized).  Yes, I am sadly too much of a city-slicker than I would care to admit at this point.
Low and behold, the place was perfect.  It was a recreational area with a lake and camping spots and trails (one that my husband probably knows like the back of his hand, being the California Kid).  I had a wonderful time hiking along a river trail for over an hour, and even got to stick my feet in the lake which was freezing.  I even had a magical moment where a couple of lavender butterflies playfully visited me as I sat taking pictures of the lake.  Somewhere in that moment I felt as if my Creator was sending me a gift.  I had a moment of clarity.  I felt the presence of my ancestors and knew that all was right in the world.

After some time, I hiked back to my car and sat for a while gathering my thoughts.  I had exactly the appropriate drive time back to get my kiddos and not be late.  Phew.  I was sweaty from the exercise and I felt like my soul was nourished.
My crazy adventure took most of the day. But amidst all of the emotional turmoil and panic of the morning, I found the place that I was actually suppose to be at in the end.  And I had a great time telling my Hubby about it when he got home from work.  His repsonse... "You mean you wasted a half a tank of gas to go hiking half way up the mountain when Effie Yaw nature center is right down the street??"  Yes.  He is the yin to my yang.  Lol.  But at least he loves me anyway.

Here are some picks from my hike:

 Happy trails, Everyone.  And Happy Spring!

Bay Area Adventure - Happy Spring!

To begin my quest of focusing on ME time, I decided to take a little mini-trip with my kiddos to the Bay Area.  It has been quite a few years since my Spring Break schedule coincided with their schedule.  So taking advantage of that, I convinced my parents to take an over-nighter to the San Francisco Bay area with us and do some exploring.  Unfortunately, my hubby is part of the vast majority of America who has to drudge to work everyday regardless of Spring or Easter...so we all piled into my "Mom Mobile", waved a tearful (but sarcastic) goodbye to my husband, and jaunted off on our quest.  
Growing up, my parents would do these kind of trips often.  We explored the vast majority of the East Coast while living in Pennsylvania and then Florida.  As a result my history teachers loved me.  So my trip to the Bay was intentionally way more educational than relaxing for my kiddos.

First stop was the USS Hornet in Alameda, CA.  If you haven't visited this museum, it is a must do for the family.  The ship is docked alongside other ships in the old Naval Air Station there.  This was a great first stop on our adventure as my kiddos could wander (and play) throughout this vast jungle gym of a ship, climbing up and down ladders and learning about history and maritime voyages during war time.  Several photo-ops were guaranteed as my kiddos could sit in the cockpit of a fighter jet, stand next to NASA spacecrafts, and literally insert themselves in the galley, bunks, and dining halls of an old Aircraft Carrier.  Awesome hands on learning!

Here we are topside.  Beautiful weather :)

After that, we jaunted over to Fisherman's wharf for a small snack bar lunch and then visited the Exploratorium at Pier 15 for a few hours.  It was fun watching my kiddos dive in to hands on activities geared towards Science, Engineering, and Technology.  This is one place where the "hands off, don't touch" rule is thrown out the window as touching and manipulating things is highly encouraged.  

I love these two pictures, as moments like this where my two girls are getting along and not bickering are rare right now in the saga of sisterhood. 

After driving over the Golden Gate Bridge and settling into a Travelodge near the town of Mill Valley (cheap and minimal is always preferred on these kind of Americana adventures), we ended our evening having a fabulous Italian dinner at Pasta Pomodora (kid friendly, fresh and healthy).  Long but highly enjoyable day was accomplished!

The next morning we drove on a winding but picturesque route to Muir Woods which is a National Park north of the Bay.  This is where I realized that my parenting skills are not like other people's.  I am not quite sure why, but my children cannot peacefully walk through a majestic redwood forest without acting like hooligans.  Yes, they are amusing and entertaining, but they will never be stealth-like hunters and would certainly be ambushed quite easily with their thunderously LOUD behavior.  As other patrons to the forest quietly and peacefully took in the beauty around them carrying their babies in tow with adorable little children quietly walking like ducks in a row, my children on the other hand fought like wild animals over who was going to take pictures, kept hitting each other when my back was turned, and the constant litany of "Mom, Angie did this...Mom, tell Zane to stop...or Mom, Gwen just hit me" drove me to lose my pent up calm demeanor and lash out like a crazy woman in the middle of God's beautiful creation.  So much for calming ME time...

Looks are deceiving...the one moment where they acted normal in nature.

My little animals...GRRRR!

To end the trip, we spent a few hours calming down and enjoying one of the sandy/rocky beaches of Northern Cali at Muir Beach.  Great picnic spot!  Finally, time to be calm and relax before the trek home.   Phew!  I needed it at this point...

Awww, now this is the life :D

So home we went...back to the daily grind.  Wish my hubby could have joined in on this trip, but it was a nice escape and fun for my kiddos to hang out with my parents on a short, but entertaining adventure.  Many laughable moments, lots of walking, lots of seeing and doing, and great weather!

Successful ME time?  Check.  Though I probably need a little vacay after the vacay with the kiddos...

Taking a hiatus to focus on "ME Time"

After two and a half years completing my Master's Degree and finishing up with three choreography projects in a row, it is time for me to take an artistic break for a while.  Living with that much stress has taken its toll on my health both physically and mentally.  I am ready to slow down a bit and have some personal life experience.  I want to do some exploring, reading, and nurturing of my soul.  I haven't been the friendliest person of late, and certainly not the most patient of wives or mothers.  One of the things I have learned after my latest bout of depression is that I have to take care of myself first.  But not only that, I have to LOVE myself first...meaning I deserve to focus on me.  I remember before my husband and my children, back during my college days, my entire day focused on what I wanted and dreamed about doing.  I would go to school, go to work, dance, take naps, read lots of novels, go out with friends, get massages, hang out at the river and go waterskiing...Oh to be young, a size 4 again, and single....
Once I met my husband all of that changed.  I need to be clear that that wasn't his fault in any way.  It just was my dysfunctional codependency making his needs and wants more important so that he would love me.  All the "ME Time" went by the wayside.
Does my husband love me?  Absolutely.  Twenty years have gone by and our love has grown and matured in so many ways after three children, a failed business endeavor, bankruptcy, and the death of loved ones.  But these stresses have torn me down mainly because I didn't take care of me in the process.  I now know that the most important thing is to take a little time out of everyday to nurture my body, mind, and soul.  Only then can I be the woman (mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend, teacher, choreographer, and performer) that I truly want to be...someone who is gracious, loving, generous, giving, articulate, confident, and humble.
So that is my mission during my hiatus from project work right now...everyday I am going to do something that nurtures my mind, body, and soul.  So far, today, I worked out, I nested by cleaning my home, I spent time with each of my children, I laid on the couch and cuddled with my husband while watching our favorite TV show, I read a daily passage from my bible, I cooked my family a healthy and delicious dinner, and now I am sharing my thoughts here on this blog...hopefully, paying it forward to someone else who might find insight or comfort in my words.
I hope that any of you out there in Internet Land take time for yourself today, and learn that loving yourself first is what makes you the best person that you can be.

Here is my baby girl Angie and I, laying down for some cuddle time before bed. 

I love this little minx with all of my heart.

The Lunatic May Be in My Head, But She Lives on The Dark Side of the Moon.

Have you ever traveled to the dark side of the moon?  Luckily, my wonderful colleague Roberto Pomo and I did just that, along with over two dozen students and a fabulous design team as we brought the stage play Darkside to life.  What an amazing journey we have had producing this wonderful radio play by Sir Tom Stoppard as a theater, dance, and media extravaganza set to the historic album "The Dark Side of the Moon" by Pink Floyd.  This was the first time that the radio play has been produced in a full stage production and we had a blast inventing concepts and themes for the audience to view and explore.  We practically sold out every night, and had wonderful support from our entire department and community.  I feel truly blessed. Like any of my theater and dance adventures, I learn so much more during the process than I ever dream possible.

I learned that it takes a great deal of hard work, dedication and risk to form something out of nothing.  When no one else had staged something before you, the sky is the limit on what you can dream up, but it takes a lot of collaboration and compromise to actually make things work.

From the beginning, our set designer Ron Reisner had the vision of what the space would look like.  Us dancers struggled with it at first (yes, we complained a time or two) but by the end the creatures/dancers where climbing, jumping, and throwing themselves all around, up, and under every crevice of the moon.

Here is the fabulous costume designer Audrey Walker with several of her fabulous creations.  Her work was an inspiration to us all and the highlight of the show.

(Hope, Audrey, Josh, and Ty)

I learned that the fabulous things that you think up in your head sometimes mean blood, sweat, and tears for someone else.  I absolutely understand the risk I ask actors and dancers to take on stage and within the process.  It weighs on my mind heavily at times and has caused me many a sleepless night. I feel so blessed and appreciative that they are willing to partake in my madness.

Here is the fabulously talented Sean who was willing to don a space suit, change into a lizard, and climb into the great unknown of outer space both figuratively and literally.

(Sean climbing the rope, picture credit to Kristyn Conn)

I feel so blessed to have worked with such dedicated, talented, and genuinely good people on this project.  But truthfully, the moments where we cut loose and just had fun are seared most permanently on my heart and soul.  Oh the many times they made me laugh...what a ride...

The actors and dancers are always responsible for bringing the story to life.  Long hours of rehearsal can get a little punchy at times... but bring so much inspiration as well.  Here are dancers stepping in for the "Magic Mike Moment."  Made me blush every time I saw this number performed.  

(Ty, Matthew, and Hope)

Finally, I learned that my madness, anxiety, and doubt will always rear its ugly head within the process.  But having people around me who are patient, who don't judge me too harshly, and allow me to just be ME, unconditionally, are truly angels on earth.  And they have reminded me to look at the stars in the sky with wonderment...as they whisper softly, "it is okay to live on the dark side of the moon."

(Angel and Jessica, gazing at the stars. Sean and Josh dancing on the moon.)

Expanding My Focus

New blog name, new year, new outlook on life.  Four years into this artistic journey of blogging my thoughts and I have decided to revamp my purpose for blogging.  First and foremost, I love to write.  It helps me make sense of my world and allows me a venue for expression that is different than performing or choreographing.  However, I wanted to be able to expand on the focus of my writing on things other than just dance as I feel somewhat reborn.  I have a new energy, a new passion for the world around me and I would love to write about my experiences discovering new things.  So therefore a new look for the blog.  At the age of 43 I have come through a long, dark tunnel of depression and have a better understanding of my purpose on this earth.  I look forward to sharing these experiences and hopefully connecting with others about this crazy journey called life.  Happy Sunday everyone.  Mine is peaceful, happy, and thankfully full of rain as we desperately need it here in Northern California.  This is how I am spending my afternoon, trying to be a good professor...

I love how Mr. Potatohead Darth Vader is checking me out in this photo...quite the critic.

For me and my comrades in arms

I had a very busy weekend.  It consisted of a birthday party that my daughter attended for one of her classmates, taking my son to his karate class, a blocking rehearsal for my daughters' end of the year dance show, and a dress rehearsal for the same show where I am helping backstage as a quick-changer for those little children who have only a minute or two to get back on stage with every costume detail in place and a happy smile on their face.

The one thing that struck me during this whirlwind of madness, was the camaraderie of the women standing around me.  The moms.

Some of these beautiful women I have known for many years, some for only a few days or months.  But we have a connection, a bond.  As we sit for long hours waiting for our children to be done, we learn about each others lives, our woes, and our fears.  We laugh at each others stories and pass the tissues when one of us just can't hold the emotion in any longer.  Sitting there, side by side, we somehow feel like we are a part of something bigger than ourselves...a community, and maybe, like a family.

I cherish these women, for helping me feel normal.  For watching after my kiddos.  For talking me through my doubts and insecurities.  For not putting me down if I don't have it all together.  For not competing with me like we are on some sort of race to the finish line.  And for just sitting next to me in silence when our children are in the spotlight. 

Yes, they have a few more curves than they did when they were in their twenties, more wrinkles and dark circles under their eyes, more scars...both literally and figuratively.  And I am sure that they wonder, like I do, how time has flown by, and what ever happened to that twenty-something year old woman??

Well I am here to say that that young woman has developed into a beautiful, courageous, smarter, sophisticated, warrior-like Goddess who has an army of comrades by her side.  We are fierce.  And we are ready to fight to the death if you hurt one of our babies.

Thank you, women.  You have helped in so many little ways over the years. 

So lift up that glass of sangria, or bottle of cold beer, or whippy frappucino that you so well deserve and toast to the end of another successful day, where no one killed each other, everyone got fed, they all got bathed, and the bills that were most important got paid.  I salute you.  From my heart to yours, you deserve the moon and the stars and everything in between.  I am here for you, my friends.

Here is a snapshot of my eldest daughter Gwen's baby book...

back when I was twenty-eight and thought that I pretty much had things figured out.  

Oh, how silly I was...I could not even understand the depths of emotions that were soon to unfold.  The bottom photo is of me and my Mom.  

I had developed pre-eclampsia at that time, hence the puffy face.

The reasons why...

The question often becomes "why?"

On a small scale, that could be my son asking me why he has to wash his hair.  Or on a big scale that could be about the meaning of life, "why am I here?"

I think that is the question that keeps us stuck sometimes.  We want to know why, and there sometimes is no good answer. 

Sometimes, you just have to trust in the unknown.

Throughout the past few years, I haven't understood the reasons for things; why situations happened, or why there is so much animosity in the world.  But ultimately I have had to just trust in my own instincts.  In a way, it is trusting in what you know to be real in a world that is made up of internet/media make-believe that can help you survive.

A very dear friend of mine who is a beautiful visual artist walked away from the art world many years ago.  We were both about 27 years old at the time.  I couldn't understand why someone who was so obviously talented and had so much to offer the world through her artwork could do such a thing.  When I asked her why, she responded, "I can't stand the artist mentality anymore."  At the time her response appalled me, as being a dance artist I couldn't think of anything that I loved more than dance and the world that dance created for me, I never could see myself walking away.  Besides the fact that we were only 27 years old and I felt that she had so many more years ahead of her to create and explore.

Somehow, that is where I find myself today.  I desperately don't want to be jaded.  I don't want to be a negative energy.  I don't want to bring people down.  But that is the question I keep asking myself, "Why?"  What is the point really?  And I don't know the answer right now...

So, I am trying to trust...

I am trying to feel my way through this.  I am starting by focusing on the things I know to be true.

I know that my husband loves me.
I know that my children love me.
I know that I love to feel my body dancing and exploring movement.
I know that I love to watch my children dance.
I know that I love to choreograph.
I know that I love to watch beautiful, artistic, and powerful dance.
I know that I love to help others learn about themselves through dance.

Other than that, I don't know much else to be true or valid at this point...

and I am learning to trust that it is okay to feel this way.  I am hoping that I will discover new adventures where I will make beautiful memories through dance, theatre, and life.  Beyond that I am open to whatever possibilities arise.  It feels good to be hopeful.  And I am trying to be open and not afraid.  I am trying desperately to hold to these truths when I feel animosity around me.  It all will take time...and some day I may understand my purpose.

I wanted to mention, that I very recently found out that a colleague of mine lost her battle with depression.  My sincere thoughts and prayers go out to her family and friends as they move forward through this difficult time.  I unfortunately did not have the opportunity to know her very well, but she seemed to be a kind and gentle soul whom never did any harm to anyone.  I hope that her soul is at peace.  I wish that we had more time to know each other better.  But I do see how her beautiful artwork of costuming and design affected people, inspired people, and how they loved working with her.  I have to believe that was the purpose of her life...the "why"...

I only hope that she may have known it. 

This is a painting that my dear friend gave to me before she stopped painting.

The picture is a little unclear and doesn't do it justice at all.

I hope someday she will create more beautiful art again...

if anything, just for the joy of it.

At the end of the day...

There comes a time in a woman's life where she has to choose between what is easy and what is necessary...

One of the things that I have come to understand about life is that it is never simple.  People will hurt you.  You will be treated less than you deserve.  You will have someone cheat on you.  You will have someone break your heart.  You will be lied to.  You will be abused.  You will be gossiped about.  You will be stolen from.  You will be accused unjustly.  You will be left.  You will be ostracized.  You will be misunderstood.

It is inevitable.  And it will probably be someone that you cared about who commits these offenses against you.  There will be nothing that you can do to stop them.  It is out of your control.  They may never admit that they have done anything wrong, and they certainly will never apologize.

However, you can choose to not be a victim.

A long time ago, I was the victim of abuse.

A dirty old man lured an innocent child into a dark room and did things that her innocent mind had never thought of.  His wife lay "sleeping" on a nearby couch.
The child felt violated.  She felt ashamed.  She felt like she never should have gone into that room.

I know now, that I was a child, and that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent what happened.  That the "man" was screwed up in the head.  And I actually was an innocent victim.
I walked into a room and didn't understand or comprehend what was about to happen.

For many years, I repressed my feelings about what happened.  Slowly and surely, when faced with moments of confrontation, I developed anxiety.  If you have ever had anxiety, you know that it is something that you cannot control.  Believe me, I would love to be able to stand up to someone in moments of confrontation without shaking or crying.  I try to be strong, but in reality I appear very weak.

Coming full circle.
The funny thing about the arts, is that they bring our emotions, our thoughts, and our darkest fears to the surface, sometimes without us knowing.  Who knew that trying to put my heart and soul into a collaborative project would make me feel so raw and exposed.  I naively walked into a dark room, and was confronted with many psychological demons.  I could not control the way people treated me...and yes there were moments where I was hurt, where I was treated less than I deserved, where I was cheated, where people broke my heart, where I was lied to, where I felt abused, where I was gossiped about, where I was stolen from, where I was accused unjustly, where I was left, where I was ostracized, and where I was misunderstood.  And for a brief moment...

I was the victim of my own tragedy....and I judged myself harshly for it.

But gloriously, after many eons of nights of soul searching, I will no longer be a victim.  I will no longer be a judge either, and I forgive myself for going into that room.  From here on out, I know that the rooms that I walk into may have people with good or bad intentions standing there.  But I am armed now as a Spiritual Warrior, safely shielded from any weapons that may be thrown at me.  For I have released all of the hurt and anger and fear, they do not control me now.  I am wrapped in a blanket of love.  Love for myself.

Nor will I be the villain in someone else's tragedy.   For I know now, that there may be other victims in that room with me, that I may not even know the depths of their pain.  I know that the choices that I make, the words that I use, and the environments that I help create can have profound affects on whomever is there beside me.  I choose to LOVE, and to FORGIVE, to HOPE, and to hopefully be a guiding light for others who may need me.  I will be guided by feelings of love and joy in the hopes of using my art to help others.  And hopefully we may all be healed.

At the end of the day, that is all that matters...that is all that is necessary...

  
 

Choosing your words

My middle child, my baby girl, has a mean girl bullying her at school.  You know the type, snarky remarks that are meant to prick at your self-esteem and make you feel small.  Every day there are comments about what my daughter wears or who she sits with. But the ones that hurt the most are the ones that Angie can't help...how she laughs, or the color of her hair.  As a parent, your first instinct is to go up to school and give that little twerp a piece of your mind.  My husband's idea is to teach Angie how to box...makes sense from the male perspective.  For now...I am letting things play out, trying to let Angie learn to defend herself in a more diplomatic way, through her words.

Thankfully that is the one thing that I don't worry about with Angie, she knows how to use her words.  She has always been quick-witted and first to verbally respond.  She is very sweet and nurturing, so she has lots of friends and appears to be quite popular among the other children.  Even so, it still hurts when someone picks at you, or points out things that they see as flaws. 

I know that with the media showing us violence in schools everyday and the anti-bullying campaign that has been installed in schools as a result, it is hard to just sit back and let things play out.  There is so much to worry about in today's society.  But somehow I instinctively know stepping in will teach Angie to be a victim, more than a warrior.  And I want her to be a warrior.  I want her to find her own power.  So for now, we talk about things.  I am glad that she tells me what is going on.  I ask her lots of questions.  I let her know that she is loved.  I make sure she knows that she can talk to her teacher about things, and that no one is allowed to lay hands on her and that she has a right to defend herself.  We talk a lot about the other girl and how she has special homework because her parents can't help her with the regular homework, and how the little girl struggles with school work.  We talk about how sometimes people make you feel small so that they feel big.  We talk about how tearing someone down is a sign that someone is very unhappy and doesn't like themselves.  We talk about words and the power that they hold, and how to protect ourselves from someone else's words.  I am glad that we can talk about it all...

Don Miguel Ruiz wrote in his book, The Four Agreements, "BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD.  Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love."

You never know as a parent, if you are doing things right...but if I can teach my daughter this one lesson...I know she will realize her inner warrior.  That she will be able to look any bully in the eye and see how in pain they are, and that she has the power to shield herself from words used as weapons. That LOVE will always win. 

I was never good with words.  The words always got stuck, building anxiety.  Dance became my way of expression.  Over time and with experience I have gradually learned that I have an inner warrior and was able to find my words. These experiences were often because of bullies, but I hold no anger towards these individuals now.  Situations come into your life that give you lessons, and I am so grateful that the bullies in my life helped me realize my own self-worth, even though it was painful at the time.  I hope that they have found peace.  I hope that they have felt love.  I hope that they have realized their own self-worth so that they never bully again.  For we all have the potential of being the bully.  It is how we choose to use our words that determine our character.   My daughter is learning to choose LOVE.  And I know that has more power than any words that someone could say to her. 

A Wonderful New Year

I have a confession.

Now don't judge too harshly...being the avid film addict that I am...

up until this year, sadly...

I had never seen It's A Wonderful Life.   I know, huge gasps are loudly expelling as you read this.  I have been completely un-American.  This movie is like Christmas gold.

But in my defense, a two and a half hour movie with no singing, dancing, animation, or slap-stick comedy was never very appealing to a child during the holiday season.  As an adult I have known for some time that it is one of the most beloved Christmas movies of all time, but any time that it aired I would catch it somewhere in the middle and I absolutely will not watch a movie unless I see it from the very beginning.  This year I was determined to watch classic Christmas movies and dvr'd the film so I could watch it after the kiddos had gone to sleep one night.

No shocker here, but yes, the movie made me cry.  It is truly cinematic gold.  The tale of George Bailey, who regrets never living out his dreams and secret aspirations of glory, can touch all of us as we question the choices we have made in life.  The beauty of this film is witnessing the turmoil of this man who had the integrity and heart to make the right decisions, not the easy ones.  Who did what needed to be done in sacrifice of his own opportunities for money or fame.  In the end he finds that he is rich beyond compare with the love and gratitude from all of those around him.  WOW!  I think we all can learn from George Bailey.

As the year slowly winds down and the celebrations towards a new year begin to unfold, I am pondering things in my life right now.  What will the future hold for me?  What life changes need to be made?  How have I affected the lives of those around me?  Have I been a good person?  Have I shown enough love?

Oh I know all of the New Year's resolutions are about to be decided... and the fitness industry wants all of us to join gyms and try to fulfill our narcissistic tendencies...I am just as guilty as anyone on that count.  But growth and life experiences have changed my focus to more spiritual healing.  I want to resolve to be my best self.  Simple.  Do what is right, and not what is easy.  The truth is, I have been trying to run away from egotistical, bad behavior as I was ashamed of my own part in it.  But pointing the finger at bad behavior does nothing to change it.  You have to DO better.  You have to BE better.  So learning from George Bailey...fame and glory aren't real.  Relationships are real.  The way we treat each other is real.

You may never know if you have changed someone's life in a good way or not, but it will certainly give you a sense of peace knowing that you tried.

Like Frank Capra's epic film, my New Year's resolution is to live a wonderful life.  I hope that we can all do better in the new year.  Much love to all.

Coming Full Circle - finding Yin and Yang

There once was this little dance piece that I created called "Yang."  I remember being at the audition for the yearly faculty dance concert at the University and seeing this group of men at the audition, the most men that we had had at an audition in a long time.  As I walked into the audition, I did not have any idea what piece I wanted to create which is somewhat unusual for me as I am a person who usually thinks about an idea or inspiration for months to a year before I get into the studio.  But somehow seeing those men warming up made hairs rise on the back of my neck and I knew in that moment that an all-male piece was what I was suppose to create. 

Creating the piece was a bit of a challenge, as the set pieces came late in the process and the physicality of the piece was somewhat trial and error (I am very girlie-girl, so this was a whole new way of thinking about movement for me).  The men were very open and receptive and I remember them trying so hard to give me the vision that I wanted.  Sadly, the piece had to be pulled from the show after opening night due to an injury.  This was one of the saddest moments of my career.  I was devastated, and so were they.  It was no one's fault, it was just kismet.  Somehow the stars aligned and the universe decided that it wasn't time for this work to be completed.  I remember feeling so bad that I had somehow created this failed experience for the students, but they were lovely as we consoled each other. 

Fast-forwarding to the present, 4 years later, we just closed the show for the annual faculty concert and my baby "Yang" was just put safely to rest, having brilliantly made its appearance in completion.  The dancers were amazing.  Dedicated.  Open.  Loving.  I feel so blessed and grateful.  It is as if these past four years were suppose to happen the way they did so that I could experience this pure joy and contentment. 

Yes, the failure of the first attempt at "Yang" was the beginning of a very tumultuous number of years for my personal and professional growth as I worked in the community trying to build a company with colleagues, and I have struggled with the pain of psychological wounds that were inflicted.  I even took a break from choreographing at the University as I still have some anxiety walking into the dance space now.  But I somehow knew that my first piece after my healing break, had to be "Yang."  I had to heal that wound because I believed in the piece fully and knew that it deserved another chance. The experience was amazing.  It was fun, exhilarating, powerful, and healing.  It reaffirmed my instincts that the dance space is sacred.  That there is no room for ego or negative energy, that it is a place to create art and allow each of us to explore without judgement.  It is fragile, and should be approached with the utmost reverence.  

Coming full circle has shown me that the lessons of these past years have helped me get to this point.  I feel content and excited for my next adventure.  I wish nothing but the best for all of my dance community in their future endeavors.  I am at peace, and I hope in their hearts, they are as well.  After all, there has to be balance in the world of Yin and Yang in order to find peace.  Three of the original cast members were able to see the piece as they are locally working as dance artists, and they each spoke about how happy they were to see it in completion.  The other three dancers are scattered across the world pursuing their dreams as dancers.  I send them much love, I miss them.  Thank you, to my second cast of dancers.  You have no idea how much you have helped this crazy Mama find herself again, and to own her own madness as absolutely beautiful.  Much love to you all!

My son Zane laying down with all of the gifts from my dancers.

Just keep swimming

I TURNED IN MY GRADUATE PROPOSAL!!!  Woohoo!  High fives are commencing all around.  It has been a confusing, emotional, and sometimes frustrating process to even get to the point of submitting the dang thing, and the most difficult part of writing the thesis hasn't even begun yet.  This is not because of the Graduate program, it is mainly because of my own ability to overload myself with too many things: Mother, Wife, Teacher, Choreographer, Daughter, Sister, Friend, PTO President, and now Student.  It is hard to keep all of those balls juggling in the air. 

As I have been on the journey of a Graduate Student now for over a year, it has been wonderful to step out of my "artistic box" and challenge myself in new ways.  I have learned so much about myself and how I relate to people.  I have met new friends and been inspired to be the best person that I can be.  It is amazing how new environments can refresh your soul.   When live gets you down, you just keep on swimming...

Not a great picture, but here is my proposal, along with my messy desk.

The tiara is not mine, nor the frisbee, alas...the life of a Mom in school.

Another Cinematic Moment...

What do you do when you are on the other side, when you have crossed the abyss?  How do you feel? How do you behave? How do you react?  How do you take the tentative steps to move forward?

There are times in our lives when we experience transformation, when we have faced our demons and have come out alive...times when we have painfully grown up or survived an unexpected, jarring experience.

As an avid reader and movie fanatic, I often relate my own personal experiences in life to my favorite stories on film. In fact, as I create choreography I often refer to moments in films as sources of inspiration for certain movements or feelings.  Life to me, is like one giant MOVIE.

The cinematic moment that keeps coming to mind right now is a scene from one of my favorite films, Shawshank Redemption, regarding Andy Dufresne, "who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side."  Like Andy standing in that river with rain pouring down on him, arms held up and stretched wide, we are awakened to a new sense of of our own being.  We are free.  Finally, free.  Andy walked out of that river and took ownership of his life.  He took control of the situation and let justice be served.

I think what is beautiful about Stephen King's writing of this character is that as long as Andy stayed in the prison, he reciprocated the criminal behavior even though he wasn't a criminal in the first place.  He allowed the prison to control him.  He did what he had to do to survive. Though he truthfully found meaningful relationships and understood the goodness of the people who were also trapped inside the prison, which made him regret leaving them behind, he understood that if he continued to stay he would lose himself in there. 

I think there are times in our lives where we are all stuck in our own prisons.  There are times where we compromise our beliefs or our boundaries in order to function in the environment we are in.  Maybe it is because we desperately want to survive, or maybe it is because there is something that we desperately want to have, or some image or lifestyle that we want to be a part of.  Does it mean that we create that environment?  Maybe, maybe not.  But by choosing to stay in it, we definitely will always feel the turmoil of our inner struggle with our own character.  When Andy decided to finally leave, he faced crawling through 500 yards of sewage to reach freedom.  What a metaphor. 

But he did it, and he SURVIVED.  As he walked away he took his integrity and his self-worth with him.  I like to believe that he was a better person on the outside afterwards.  That he wasn't so absorbed with the fictitious drive for money, status, and higher-class and that maybe he saw people differently.  I would like to think that we all can come out of our own prisons more generous and more caring, but most importantly, with more understanding of our own self-worth.

So what do we do once we have crossed the abyss?  "We get busy living, or get busy dying."  Oh...and we remember "that hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."

Or maybe we just watch Shawshank Redemption...

Andy Dufresne

My Summer of LOVE

When I was in the midst of depression, where I couldn't see past my own pain or get out of my own head-space, a very dear friend of mine taught me about the "Tiers of Enlightenment."  I do not know where she learned about them or whether the things that she said to me are accurate from the original source, but I like the way that she explained them to me and thought that I would share.

You see, we all live on a Tier...and there are people who are above us and people below us.  We recognize people on our Tier as seeing the world as we do in that moment; maybe they are going through a similar life experience, or they are on the same trajectory of career ambition.  When you look down below you, you see people who have not reached your Tier, you have been where they are but you now have become enlightened.  You however do not "look down" on them, because you are "above" that type of energy.  I should point out that each Tier has nothing to do with age.  People reach Tiers at different paces.  The people who are on the top most Tier are people like Mother Teresa or Gandhi.

The important thing to understand is the only way to move up to the next Tier is to experience something life-changing. It can be an event that is anticipated or heart-wrenchingly unexpected.  It can be of our own choosing, or it can be thrown at us.  The process can often be painful and can feel like you are being reborn, but once you are on that new Tier you understand the world, your existence, and the capacity for love more clearly.  

When my friend explained the "Tiers of Enlightenment" to me, my mind was blown.  It honestly gave me such a complete sense of hope and understanding.  I knew in that instant, that I was going to be okay.  Thank you, my dear friend.  You are an Angel on earth for guiding me on that day.

This summer has been one of the best summers of my life.  I have felt more at peace with my own being.  I have been the most present and in tune with my children and husband.  I have enjoyed every moment we have shared with each other.  I have been reborn.  I am excited to have a world of new sensibilities around me, and I understand where and with whom I want to share my energy.  It has been a summer of LOVE.

I have such love for this world and the possibilities for human compassion.  I now look at the day ahead and ask myself:

How do I learn?  How do I teach?  How do I love?  How do I grow?  How do I help?  How do I share?

Carpe Diem, my friends.  Here's to the last day of my summer vacation!

The View from the Wings

My mission in life is to NOT be a "Stage Mom."  I cringe just thinking about it.  We all know the type...somehow Joan Crawford from "Mommy Dearest" pops in to my head.  I'll let that image sink in for a minute......

So when my girls showed an interest in wanting to dance, my anxiety level rose ten-fold.  How would I navigate being a "Stage Mom?"

Finding a studio for my girls to learn the beauty and art of dance was very difficult actually.  Sometimes it's a bad thing that I know so much about dance.  It took trying three different studios before I found the right one for me and my girls.  And the main point of that last sentence is the right studio for ME.  I had to feel comfortable there. And it had to feel like the right environment for them to grow and explore the art of dance. I wanted it to be about the art and the discipline.  I LOVE my girl's dance studio.  It reminds me of the studios on the East Coast where I learned classical technique.  It feels like home. 

So I watch from the wings, and I help back stage, and I try not to correct them...which is really hard at times.  I leave the corrections to their teachers who are very well trained.  I sometimes participate if they need me.  I appreciate that they let me be involved.

As the music soars through the air and the little ones are lined up ready to go on stage with their frilly costumes and cute little bows in their hair, I watch from the wings as my daughters dance with joy and passion for the audience.  It is an indescribable feeling...almost like magic.  I'm glad that I am able to be there.  And yes, that makes me a "Stage Mom." <big sigh>

Angie waiting backstage for her big entrance.

 Gwen and her classmates getting the jitters out behind the curtain.

Dance in My "little-big" Town

It always amazes me how small the dance world is.  The six-degrees of separation thing really does exist; especially when you find yourself working small gig after small gig to establish your resume in the world of theater and dance.

For myself, my years of gig hopping are over as I have firmly planted my tutu on the shelf and only work within the Sacramento area.

Sacramento is what you might call a "little-big" town when it comes to dance and theater.  We have a professional ballet company, two professional theater companies, and a summer-stock Broadway Musical company. We are privileged to be a stop on the national tour circuit for dance, theater and music.  Not bad for what a lot of people consider a cow town.  These companies only thrive on the support of the community.

 The Sacramento Community Center Theatre

What exists beyond that is a plethora of community theater companies and a few semi-professional dance companies who all try and make a partial living with their passion.  This town's theater and dance scene's history is rooted very deeply for some people and everyone knows everyone by association.  I have seen (and experienced myself) the failure of many of these artistic dreams for a variety of reasons.  The competition can be fierce in a small pond. 

As I sit back and view the artistic scenery, I begin to ponder... is it community or competition?  And what is the difference?  How do we treat each other? How do we support each other? Or do we?  How do we talk about each other? And what does this teach the children that aspire to be like us? What type of community do we see ourselves as? How would we like to see ourselves ten years in the future? How do we make that happen?

The truth of the matter is, I am not going anywhere any time soon.  That tutu is still on a shelf here in this "little-big" town of Sacramento...and yes, I would still like to work here, as do many others.  I do not want to be alone in this endeavor, and I certainly do not consider myself beneath or above the challenge of working with my peers.  I enjoy watching my community with its artistic endeavors, and I hope that they will support me in mine.  Hopefully my community will grow and mature.  More theater and dance is a good thing, and hopefully there will be a little something for everyone.  I am curious how others feel in "little-big" towns like mine.

 

 My dear friend Nolan T'Sani perfoming with the Sacramento Ballet.

When Stepping Back is the The Best Choice in Your Awkward Social Dance

I have been on "hiatus", taking a step back from dance for awhile.  My heart still feels a little soar when I think about it, but I know it is the right decision for me right now.  I am learning to trust my instincts and to embrace the vacation.  It is interesting when you start to focus on what you need, and not what everyone else thinks about your art; or you choose to not get sucked into whatever adrenaline-addicted train you ride when you are trying to "prove yourself" as an artist.  It has been nice to just be the observer; kind of like watching other couples dance on the ballroom floor.  You start to notice things that you have never even thought about before.  The way the man pushes the woman gently to make the next turn...or the way she resists...or the slow turn that suspends the arc of the glittery costume fringe are all quite interesting moments... As I watch, I can feel wounds healing though some scars are still sensitive. I have cried a lot, watching others dance...which is good, because the artists have moved me. I still enjoy seeing dancers lose themselves in the moment. The passion.  It will always be there.

I want to make sure that I state out loud that I am not giving up.  That I still am a choreographer and dance professional. I still have dreams and ideas.  I just know that I haven't found the right time in the music to step back on the dance floor.  I have taken a few awkward attempts.  But it still feels like I'm stuttering, tripping over my own two feet... so I know it is not quite time yet.

Yes, I have learned many new things while stepping back...

To enjoy the moments of silence...

And to not live in fear...

Life is filled with beautifully awkward moments, if you take the time to notice the details...and enjoy the other dancers on the dance floor.

from Strictly Ballroom (1992)

Change is good.

Change is upon us.

I can feel it in the air.  It is a new excitement, a new surge of energy.  And it has come upon me with great force <camera focuses in for extreme close-up right now>.

It almost feels like that brief few seconds after you jump out of an airplane, when the sense of falling is upon you. You are flailing your arms and legs trying to grab a hold of something, your senses acute with your surroundings, as if your primal instinct has taken over.  Soon that feeling of falling disappears and you find yourself flying, soaring through the sky like superman. It is an amazing moment. I encourage everyone to try skydiving at least once in their lifetime.

These feelings of excitement are how I know that my artistic juices are beginning to flow.  Ideas, colors, sounds, images are starting to appear, swimming around me like leaves in a whirlwind.  It feels good, and it makes me feel happy; aka "normal". For the first time in two years I feel like creating art again. 

And for the first time in two years, the energy is coming from a place of peace and acceptance.  Not anger or animosity.

I feel like a survivor. When you find the beach that leads to civilization after floating on a raft in the vast, dark ocean for two years, the only thing that matters is that you made it out alive.  I am just grateful to be here...like finding my feet on the ground after jumping out of that airplane.

I went into the studio this weekend, and started to work again.  I gathered a few gentle souls whom I love and started to get my hands dirty. It felt good.  And I'm just going to leave it at that.  Allowing myself to feel good.

<3


Skydiving was my birthday gift from my hubby on my 25th Birthday.  Amazing experience.

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