I'm Leavin' On A Jet Plane . . .

I am on the verge of leaving. John takes me to the airport at 10am tomorrow and I will be off to spend 5 whole weeks in St. Louis. This trip will feel different I am certain. I'll get to spend time around my family and I get to see the Indianapolis 500. Things will feel more like home and I won't feel so unbelievably alone in a hole in the humidity and mold of Miami.

Despite all of that, I feel like I just got home. I feel like staying. I don't think I'm ready to leave again. Lucius is just starting to look like he's beginning to adjust and I've just put everything away and cleaned out my files and paid my bills. I've JUST done all of this stuff and now I'm off again to let everything pile up and feel a little further away from my grasp.

I've started working on the piece I'm hopefully doing with Celebrate Dance in August. I've spoken to two incredible female dancers about schedules and I'm feeling optimistic that we will get it all to work out. I'm feeling such a need to create - even stronger than my fear of rejection which usually keeps me from creating. John and I were talking about this at IHOP yesterday while enjoying scrambled eggs and sweet coffee. He told me that he didn't see me as being fearful about putting myself out there and I reminded him that I haven't actually done a piece completely on my own in almost ten years. The fear usually outweighs the desire.

I just hope that I can get this to work the way I want it to - that it won't push me to retreat into my mind and stop exposing myself to an outside audience.

What a scary profession this is. Leaving the people and places we love to make art, ripping open our souls and putting them onstage . . . surely we sit in a somewhat masochistic state to find this a job we ache for.

A little more packing, a little more sorting, to the bank, to the post office, to the arms of John and to sleep. Perfunctory and lovely and I will miss it until I have it back..