Sideways

Not really sure why the photograph below decided to present itself sideways. Can't seem to correct it, so there you go. We'll all just have to crane our necks a bit.

Perhaps it's fitting in some strange way..

Looking Forward

This is me, taken by John, standing at the meeting place for my site-specific tour approximately 15 minutes before I led a huge group of parents through the Canyon Crest grounds. I was a bit nervous that parents wouldn't find the meeting place; it wasn't outside of a theater, it wasn't in an easily recognized entrance, yet it was a great place to start because the breezeway behind me opened up into a huge plaza that spoke architectural movement. Behind me sat 8 students, poised and ready to begin their sound/movement vignette as soon as the gates opened and I led the crowd inside.

I was infinitely proud of my students on Saturday. They worked hard, developed pieces that truly demonstrated a comprehension of the concepts I taught, worked easily together without descending into chit-chat and laziness. I led around 70 people through the 40 minute tour, which ended with all 33 students making their way through the halls and staircases into one huge group in the middle of the plaza. Parents were ecstatic, singing praise and grinning with cameras held high. It's a terrific sense of accomplishment to see parents impressed by what you've passed on to their children.

It was my final moment before a two week respite to marry and be a tourist.

Yesterday and the day before was all about getting ready and attempting to relax about the air travel, the wedding logistics, the family dynamic. I painted my nails and read my book in between packing, laundering and fretting. We are finally down to the final moments and I feel like I've prepared well. So much more relaxed than yesterday; yesterday afternoon was moments of panic attack and feeling like everything in my head was exploding. Sometimes I feel like I'm struggling to pull my life together every moment, and then I come to my senses in one fell swoop.

Today was better. My floors are clean. My cats are fed. There's a pizza winging its way to us. Thank god for the small things.

On Site

Today is the presentation of this huge site specific work we've been leading up to in my movement workshop these past couple of weeks. I tend to do this to myself a lot: create these hugely ambitious projects and then fret as the end rears it's head that I won't be able to pull them off.

This one, however, is up to the students. I've looked over my paperwork, my graphs of which students can go where, how many can work at each station of the tour. I'm leading the audience on a tour of the school and students will be in various nooks and crannies showing off their new movement skills. As we pass by, they must run the opposite direction and stay out of sight in order to get to their next station. Sound confusing? It's been a huge headache to figure out the logistics, and in a few hours my work will be tested and we'll see if I did all of these math problems correctly.

I love putting together huge pieces like this, despite my griping. There's something wholly satisfying about orchestrating a gigantic piece of movement and then, like a clockmaker, stepping back and watching it tick. The nerves come in the actual planning stage. Once these kids get working on their pieces, I'll be better equipped to deal with my adrenalin.

I leave for Chicago and my wedding in four days. It really can't come soon enough - nor can Ireland, though I look at all of those hurricane models in the Atlantic and wonder if their Northern path won't impede our travels a bit. I hope they can all dissipate before we embark across the ocean.

Truer Words

John sent me this op-ed piece by Richard Cohen about what we've learned in the five years since the 9/11 attacks. I think it rings true. I couldn't help, yesterday, but stand in the middle of all the memorializing and look back on the past five political years in utter dissapointment. A taste:

It is not merely that bin Laden has not been captured or killed and that videotapes keep coming out of his hideout like taunts. It is, rather, that his initial strategy has borne fruit. It was always his intention to draw the Americans into Afghanistan, where, as had been done to the Soviets, they could be mauled by the fierce mujaheddin. He tried and failed when he blew up the USS Cole off Aden at 11:15 a.m. on Oct. 12, 2000, killing 17 sailors and crippling the ship. But he succeeded beyond his wildest expectations when the United States responded to the Sept. 11 attacks by invading Afghanistan and, in a beat, then going to war in Iraq. It remains mired in both countries to this day.

I was also relatively appalled by our country yesterday when I turned on USA and there was, what seemed, a huge 9/11 memorial taking place. People were holding "God Bless America" signs and waving flags, and a woman in a red, white and blue, rather skimpily clad, outfit was belting out the National Anthem as parents with little kids swayed in response. Immediately upon the end of the slutty-looking blonde's rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner," two men in spandex outfits, one in a pink feather boa, jumped into a ring and started beating the holy crap out of each other: knocking their faces into the bars, hitting each other over the head with folding chairs, slamming their combat boots into the neck of their opponent. All while these kids in their American Flag shirts and 9/11 Memorial Signs looked on and cheered.

No wonder our country is so utterly messed up; is so clearly devoid of proper priorities.

I am appalled, once again.

Back Pain and the Cats-As-Aliens Theory

I woke up this morning with my entire back killing me. I know why - it always seems to be my own damn fault. I taught a class on basic lifts and sharing weight/counterbalancing yesterday. I pulled countless students up onto my feet in a superman pose and took several students onto my back to demonstrate the various ways to find human shelves. I am paying for it today; I don't have that kind of strength and ability the same way I used to.

I guess my back and neck always hurt. I'm used to the dull, whispering pain that set in about ten or twelve years ago and never fully left. I know my neck has gotten worse over the years because I sleep in awkward, curled positions and my tics are ten times worse in my neck than in any other part of my body (save maybe my stomach). But when you stand this much pain for this long, your body gets used to dealing with it; it makes you wear out sooner but you work through it and your life goes on. It's frustrating to wake up feeling debilitated by pain because I know the hurt must truly be excruciating if I can't seem to work through it; if I can't get it off my mind.

On a different, lighter, perhaps more disturbing note, John and I had a phone conversation today as he sat up at UCSD mastering the AIDS awareness dance film he's been working on for the past - it seems - 400 years. He's convinced that, if aliens have in fact infiltrated our society in order to learn things about the way we work, that they have come in the shape of cats. I don't disagree. Take, for instance, the photograph above. How other-worldly is that? He thinks that the consistent midnight tearing about the house in which all felines seem to partake is actually a response to calls from the Mother Ship. He even goes so far as to say that aliens came down thousands of years ago and took the shape of cats with the intent to conquer the world, but they enjoyed the petting and being fed and being pampered and worshipped so much, that they just never left.

John and I live with three very odd aliens. One of them is sitting on my lap right now.

I wonder if their untapped powers include curing back pain?

Teaching is Hard

I have much respect for high school teachers. This week I spent a couple of days teaching movement classes at a high school in North County. Four classes in a row. I dripped home and dragged myself into bed every night. Today was a less stressful day and I'm still exhausted - totally spent after talking these kids through class. I have a new understanding of why my teachers loved to give in-class work so they could sit silently behind their desk and watch us do our thing. After an hour and a half of constant talking, my throat was torn to shreds.

It's not that I don't like the kids either; I think they're all pretty great. Smart, not over-chatty, full of excitement and wonder - less cynical than I thought they'd be. I have another week with them. I might be used to schedule by the time I finish up.

I had my final callbacks for the piece I'm directing there as well. It's hard to cast a small piece when so many people want it and audition so well. I'm doing a project based on the Brecht/Weill collaboration of "Seven Deadly Sins," and I was pleasently surprised on how many students were interested in attacking Brecht. He certainly scares off people much older and wiser.

I have four days off coming up. I am, in a word, stoked. This will give me an opportunity to get a good handle on all of these projects I've got my hands in. I leave with John for Chicago in less than two weeks and I still feel like there are so many loose ends to tie up before I leave. I want to completely enjoy Ireland in every way without worrying that something isn't getting done.

Click on the link to go to "True Majority." John sent me a petition to, hopefully, get ABC to pull the new docudrama about 9/11 that is supposed to air in 48 hours. The show is basically attempting to rewrite history in order to cast the Republicans in a much stronger light, and blame the Democrats for the terrorist attacks. It is completely exploitative, partisan and factually dishonest. So much so that even Rush Limbaugh was surprised that the network agreed to air it. Help them see the error of their ways and sign the petition.

Everyone's A Critic and Points of No Return

My pieces at Celebrate Dance were reviewed in an online magazine. I wasn't expecting to be discussed at all in the media, but my picture even made it in. It was a strange moment to click onto the website and see myself circling through space, looking away from the camera; I had no idea there were press photographers present.

The review was mixed, but I think relatively accurate. There are definitely parts of the duet that I'd like to go back in and tinker with. There's a fire missing in some of the heavier parts that I think can be corrected, but it requires a little more work on my part and some concentrated thought about the order of movements and the smoothness of transitions. Going back into a piece that's already been performed and switching it up and around can be really difficult. Humans get set in their ways so quickly.

Reviews are difficult items as well. I try never to look at them too seriously, or to realize that everyone in the auditorium is coming to the show with their own experiences and their own perceptions. A review is simply one person's opinion. Though I am self critical enough to know when truths have been stated.


She really liked my solo. That made me infinitely happy. I walked into that with utter doubt as to whether or not it would read to the audience, and have a lot more confidence that the stories I'm telling are valid and coherent. The audience response coupled with the printed statements give me fire to move forward.

I'll have a chance to try the duet again in December; this time on my own turf. I officially rented a gallery space to present work on December 17th. Writing the check was nerve-wracking, but it's put me in a state of no return. As John and I walked back to the car on University I said, "Well, now I guess I HAVE to make art." The commitment is good for me. It won't allow me to rest back on my haunches and self-doubt.

The Arts and Entertainment Center is a great space in a burgeoning neighborhood. North Park is filled with theaters and coffee shops and boutiques, and an early show on a Sunday night will be great I think. The space is just big enough with interesting chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a constantly changing collection of paintings and shadowboxes on the walls in the front gallery. The woman running the place took me on a tour and answered a ton of technical questions for John about various avenues of lighting and how we would set up a screen to show a dance film.

So now I'm looking forward to what's next. I am shooting and editing two short films in the next couple of months, with John's help of course, and continuing my movement exploration that will evenutally lead up to a larger piece about my relationship with my father. This time it's a duet with a little girl, which should be challenging in itself.

Today is hot and steamy, humid remnants of Hurricane John, which is backing off of Cabo and slowly moving out to sea. John and I (and the cats) don't respond well to the hot weather. It was part of the reason I loathed Miami as much as I did. We tried to go to the Farmer's Market this morning and wandered aimlessly around for a bit, slurping lemonade and buying fruit, then finally decided to escape to the air conditioned confines of Brian's American Eatery for brunch. We ran into some friends at the Farmer's Market and all four of us stood there in the sweltering sun with a complete inability to form sentences as the humidity hugged our brains. Sitting at the counter at Brian's was much better and helped me prepare to come home and enjoy the humidity in a completely different setting.

I did, however, buy the necklace I will wear on my wedding day as we walked from white stall to white stall. It's a string of freshwater pearls and quite lovely in its simplicity. It's coming fast and furious. Let's just hope the weather is nice and I don't sweat through my crisp, white suit.