Wednesday 6 September

BACK TO SCHOOL: The End of Summer Maddness and the Return to Journalling

So I spent the summer living “fast.” I go through peroids of life where I am in go mode, living life faster than I can process or record it. A lot happens, and it's hard just to sleep enough, let alone find time to journal... and once I'm off the journalling wagon, it's hard to get back on, because there's SO much to write about! It would be better if I learned to just do brief entries during these peroids, because they are usually dramatic and exciting, and while I will now do my best to backjournal, it's not the same as putting experiences to “paper” while they are fresh. I know this because when I look back at journal entries sometimes only a few weeks old, I get the “Oh yeah, I felt like THAT!” sensation. This is why I like journalling: in addition to helping me process my life, it helps me keep track of myself. And now, with blogging, it helps my friends keep track of me, too!

Yesterday I got a phone message from one of my best college pals, Amber. Apparantly when I told peeps I was running away to join the circus, she fell through the cracks.... ooops. Really, I feel bad about that one. She's one of the people who might have liked to pop in here from time to time... She called to let me know that she was FINALLY moving to SF from SD (which I've been getting on her case to do since I moved there in 2004?), and could I help her move in?
“I know you've got the guns for it,” she said.
Hearing her message, I laughed to myself, thinking;
“She has no idea how right she is right now!” My “guns” are more present than they ever have been, I think. Not that I'm ultra muscly looking (or looking to be), but my strength is good right now...yay=)
I left her a msg that I wished I could help her move, but that I'm on the east coast... can't wait to talk to her:) I think she'll get a good laugh out of the fact that I'm here, doin what I'm doin.


THE BEST (available) NUTRITION: MALL FOOD COURT CHINESE

I was out of food, it was a travel day. For some unfathonable reason I woke up early in spite of having trained hard on silks the night before (I ran the whole act for the first time, then had strength to do it again to Svetlana's music!). Being up early and needing more calories, I decided, what the heck, I'll eat the Cookhouse pancakes. Now that I have less of an aversion to white flour food than I used to (hey, it's calories!), I put some Nutella on them and enjoyed. At lunch I skipped the fried chicken, but grabbed the buttery pasta and some iceberg lettuce on my way to the office. On a Sunday schedule (1:30 and 4:30 shows, then travel), it's always whitebread, lunhmeat, and american cheese sandwiches for dinner, and I always pass... but I was hungry, didn't have time to cook my squash, AND they had TOMATOES with the sandwiches, so I had a cheese sandwich with onion and tomato, and my own added tahini sauce.

Long story short, I ate three times at Cookhouse in one day, and NOT on a good day. Surprise of surprises, I was feeling kinda blech energetically as I got in the car with Blavid and Daze, and totally chowed on their snacks, my hardboiled egg, and the cheesecake Ted had given me. When we got to Frackville, PA 141 miles later and went scoutin for something to eat, we had to drive 7 miles to the ONE open diner in the area. The Peruvian clown/acrobat clan were there already. I had a tuna salad sandwich that was decidedly fluffy:( and onion rings. The next day I did NOT want to eat until after noon, and kinda wished I'd just gone to bed with the weird empty calorie empty/full feeling, perhaps I would have had energy to go running in the morning or sthg.
Anyway, I went into the mall and headed straight for the chinese place.

Every mall had some place offering “Chinese” or “Japanese” themed food, and ranges from blech to mediocre. Usually it's “Chinese,” so we'll use that: What I cannot understand is how all these Chinese restaurant owners and cooks ALL serve the same food! Across America, it's the same mediocre stuff! I am working with the assumption here that most of these people are either Chinese-American or are Chinese immigrants who know how to cook actual Chinese food, and who prepare food for themselves at home that is decidedly different from the stuff they serve in the restaurants. So how do they learn how to cook the over-sweetened cheap stuff that Americans seem to expect from “Chinese take-out”?? Are there brocures for new restaurant owners? A newsletter of recipies? Is the knowledge of how to cook cheap, sweet, and oily food Americans will eat passed on by word of mouth? Ify anyone has any insight into this mystry, plase comment!


WATER DRAMA
That day, Tuesday, we had the worst water the circus has experienced in years. It was BROWN. Fill up a 12 ounce bottle, the liquid inside was darker than Lipton iced tea. No kidding. One poor individual (who has a filter in his trailor!) woke up and drank some from his tap without paying attention, and got diharhea. Then word got out that the water guy told the powers that be that the water was brown, and was told to put water in all the trailors and sleepers, but not in the two big buses (mansions of the road) where the owner and general manager live. Needless to say, everyone thought this was quite cute. I was shocked at such flagrant disrespect: not only is it uncaring, it's stupid! The bosses have to live and work with us every day, I would have thought that they cared at least a little what people think of them. Nobody else seemed very surprised, though.


2 October 2006
What Happened To September?

I thought I was infrequent with the journalling before...

I have a pumpkin outside my door, on the other side of the steps from the mint, peppermint, and thyme Blaze left me when she and David departed for Cali, and my toenails are a beautiful bright shiny orange. For once I've planned ahead for Halloween, instead of being surprised and throwing together a costume at the last minute: I've got the makings for a classic witch costume, hat and all. I don't think I've ever been a witch, and it seems appropriate this year.

We're in Albany, Georgia; I rode last night from Hampton (Atlanta Moter Speedway) with YoungThing, the new silk performer. I really like her, and feel that we have a lot to learn from each other, and we have an easy camraderie. I've definitely enjoyed being among people from various different cultures while on tour, and now I'm interested to note what a relief it is for me to suddenly have a peer who's culturally similar to me. Not exactly the same, but similar enough.

Modern usage of “tribe,” word and concept: “tribal house” music, tribe.net, “s/he feels like tribe,” etc...
I guess you could say that aerial people everywhere are a spread out tribe, or that circus people are another... I don't think that most americans or people at large in any country use the word much” I think it is more commonly in usage in the Bay Area and possibly other subcultures... but I'm curious. Is it a concept that's becoming more common?


15nov06 wednesday

Overwhelmed

Last night emotional stuff came up with both Shredder and MagicBoy. I was angsty, goin to bed at 2:45 in the morning, stressing about getting up early enough to train like I want to and need to so badly.

When I'm not training, practicing, dancing, etc, I don't like myself. I have too much energy that I'm not using productively, so I get nervous, angsty, anger easily, spill my emotions onto those around me, am prone to poor eating and sleeping habits, and am generally a mess.


[page 33!
33 has been a magic number for me since Bordeaux; it just seemed to resonate for me... and then recently at the Bodies exhibit I learned that there are 33 vertebra in the spine, if you count sacrum and cocyx. O sacred number, that holds up every human being!
I'm pleasantly surprised to have written 33 pages of something. It just goes to show, a little at a time, it adds up.]

When I'm training, practicing, dancing, etc I like myself. I'm happy. I feel like I'm a good person, doing good work, on my right path. I have confidence (mostly), joy, and I'm grounded.

So I wanted to train early so I could be available to do homeschool with Freesia in case Becky wanted me to. I set my alarm for 9, and I really wanted to get up and train, but I was sooo tired, it took me 3 snoozes, to pull myself out of bed. After I showered, I lay back down in bed. Without someone to meet, a teacher or training partner to be accountable to, I didn't have the energy to get up and go start warming up my sleepy, tired body. Unfortonately, my mind was up (and angry at itself!). I lay, but didn't sleep.

I started feeling a vast anger at myself, and my inability to make sound decisions. I should have known that it would be too much to train in the morning without having slept enough TWO days in a row. I should have just let myself sleep later, and start my day later, it would have been more productive. I was hating myself, really hating myself.

Shredder and I texted a little. I thought she was coming over to get something, so I cleaned my room, took my dishes to soak, let the breeze blow into my room. Simple things with such a clearing effect!
This also I've learned this year: the feng shui concept. I feel readier to go train if my little room is clean and orderly, relaxing, welcoming, and well-functioning abode.

I asked Viky something, then saw a bunch of guys with Andre as well as Nickolai holding little Christopher by V&A's trailor, so I went there to hang out a bit, soak up the baby good vibes. Christopher was as usual happy to see me (what joy to see recognition and joy on a baby's face), and let me walk him a little, soft strong hands on my fingers as he happily struggled with balance and putting one foot in front of the other. Learning to walk is a slow, effortful process that babies approach with joy:) I squatted, and he held on to my left knee and thigh, then repeatedly leaned over to give wet open mouthed kisses to my left knee. Good thing I just showered, I thought. I put him up on my thigh, and he leaned down to kiss my left knee again!
“I shower,” I said to Nickolai so he wouldn't worry about what his grandson was licking off my knee.

Shred had suggested I run to the beach.... I hadn't run in a while, and the sunny breeze was calling, so although I didn't know where the beach was doubted I had time to get there anyway before my 12:30 office shift, I put on running clothes and shoes and let myself fall into the wind.
My emotions were all over the place, my blood and angst high.... I soon started crying as I ran. Of course it felt great to be running, great to escape the lot, run away from the tent into the sunshine and breeze. I felt pain in my brow and realized that I was frowning hard. I rubbed it and tried to unfrown, but it kept coming back. I ran along, crying and rubbing my browridge and forehead, wondering if I looked a spectacle, if anyone would notice, hoping for anonymity.

I didn't run far before the road crossed a lovely little waterway, a gentle but sleady flow of clear water 2-3 feet deep along which floated some lilypad-like plants in clumps. Here is a good place, I thought, and I stopped on the bridge to watch and absorb.

I sat on the concrete wall and put my legs under the metal rail, enjoying the pressure of the wide metal rail against my stomach as I leaned over to watch the water and floating plants a few meters below. It was beautiful and cleansing, and I let myself cry, pressing my stomach more and more on the rail to move whatever was stuck there, it felt like my uterous was big but it had to be some stuck energy too, it sticks there easily because of old patterns, even though I've been doing so much healing and cleaning there.

I thought of the conversation with MagicBoy (about K), and I thought of the one with Shred (about Circus careers & going for it) before that, I thought of the approaching cultural transition and lifestyle shift (from “circus person” to “towner”), I thohght of my dad's health challenges, and of my difficulties in forming easy connections with people, and I just let myself cry it all out. I thought of talking to MagicBoy (always helpful), I thought of journalling (also always helpful, plus then it's written down), and I thought that I should do as I've been meaning to for months and do less of the former and more of the latter.

I had a flash of wishing I were a man, so that I wouldn't have to deal with the monthly hormonal ebb and flow of energy in my lower belly. Maybe if I were a man, I thought, I could just organize my energy and then it would flow straight through me, constantly available for creative work, undisrupted by lunar and hormonal cycles! Plus I could have sex without worrying about getting pregnant.

That's silly though, I immediately reminded myself. I'd still have to worry about getting lovers pregnant, and what decision they'd make if they did get pregnant... not to mention that the energetic dynamics of manhood doubtless include their own challenges and downfalls. I'm just stressed, having a “grass is greener” moment.

Interesting to have a moment of not liking my hormonal cycle, usually I'm so grateful for it, for the alternate bursts of cleansing and creativity it brings. It's not just ovulation hormones getting me down now, I realized, that's an excuse. Hormones might be making me more sensitive to transition stress, but that's what it is... I'm wigging out because I'm at a time of big transition, plus I'm trying to make lifepath decisions and plans, plus I'm still conrfronting my old self-confidence stuff and the more recent anger stuff, plus I had a really intense and challanging conversation last night with my most currently significant lover, plus I'm still struggling to feel at home in the circus even as I prepare to leave it.... yeah, ok, that's a lot of stuff.

How interesting that here I am thinking about hormones, and just a few days ago Tiny gave me a garland of Sassafrass root to make delicious tea out of, and even though I read in my herb book that Sasparrilla (which he thinks is the same thing) is good for regulating both female and male hormones, I keep forgetting to makemyself tea with it! I need to take it off my alter, where I put it because it was so pretty, with it's circle of intertwined roots, and put it on my tea shelf! :)

A minivan slowed and stopped on the bridge behind me, window rolled down to reveal two concerned and motherly African-American ladies in hospital scrubs.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just having a tough day.” I tried to answer, but they went right on:
“Cause we can see that you're crying leaning over the bridge there and we were just wondering if you were all right, and we wanted to make sure you weren't thinking of jumping or anything.” As if this little bridge is hight enough to jump off! I think someone jumping from here might sprain an ankle when they landed in the shallow water 12 feet below.
“Oh yeah, I'm fine, don't worry, I'm not gonna jump, I'm just letting myself have a cry before I have to go to work and deal with my life. Thank you for your concern, it's kind of you.”
“Okay. Maybe you should talk to a counselor...” they added as they drove off.

I tried to sit up straighter and keep my teary face away from the road, towards the water, so as to seem more normal and not scare anymore passersby. Damnit, I moaned inwardly, as I tried to cry with a straight face, there's not a safe place here where I can have a good cry without bothering someone. Grrr!

Kindness can sometimes be meddlesome... When they were talking to me, I was touched and briefly warmed by their concern, but after they left, I felt interrupted, deprivied of finishing my cathartic cry for fear of troubling others.

I sat there till I felt calmer, then ran back, trying to align myself skeletally and internally so the energy would flow better and not seem so terrible, so stuck and overwhelming and making my blood hot like it does sometimes.

A SLAP IN THE FACE
Physical life mirrors emotional state....

I approached the circus from the back, glad as usual for the miracle of coming Home to a circus tent.

The dark opening of back door beckoned to me from between the billowing yellow and red tent flaps, promising me harbor, calm, catharsis, a safe place to go work on difficult things. I made a beeline for it, planning to work out on Andre's ladder as usual. Then I saw Maribel's lyra (metal hoop) hanging alone in the backdoor, swinging in the wind like the heavy plasticized tent curtains around it. I ran up to it, put the dark and cool tent at my back and the sunshine in front of me, took it in my hands, and let myself lean forward into the breeze for a cleansing windy supported arch... only to be slapped hard in the face by an especially exuberant push of wind on tent flap. I still had tears and sweat on my face; the blow brought the tears up again as I got my feet back under me. My face and right eye hurt strongly for a minute; I wondered if a gromet had hit my face and if I was bleeding. I touched my forehead, it was wet but not bloody, but everything was numb, I wasn't even sure where I'd been hit hardest.
I stalked off to the ladder, moved the nearby big fan so it would blow on the ladder, give me wind (give me wing, I just typed by mistake). I sat on the ladder facing the wind and just cried more. The tent felt private, I was hoping there was no one passing through to see me leaning my butt on the ladder and sobbing. Eventually I went around the the underslant side of ladder and jumped to grab the rung that has tape on it and hang... always so good to hang. I brought my knees over the bar below, tucked my toes into the rung below that, and relaxed into kneehang. It used to be so painful, the pressure on the backs of my knees, now it is relaxing to feel the metal bar pushing through my hamstring, a sensation of softening of the muscle almost all the way to the femur, it seems.
I did my 13 hanging situps, paused and cried a moment, then restarted. Instead of 7 more I did 13 again (yea still getting stronger!), focusing as always on the area in front of my lower spine, concentrating on accessing and building the power there, that fundamental connection that is so critical both for aerial and dance work and for emotional stability and well-being. My work in the circus, the simaltaneous, same work of healing myself and developing my physical and performing skills.
“More than a circus” the quote I just cut out and pasted on the back of the journal Shred gave me.

I stretched my backbend, sacrum on the bar, toes locked in below, outward rotating my shoulders and arching the whole spine as I bounced, bounced my head closer, ever closer to my feet. I did two pullups, figured that was enough for a day like today, stretched my shoulders. All the while I was still teary and feeling like a mess. Hey, at least being a mess no longer keeps me from working out!

I wanted to go lay down and cry and then sleep, maybe talk to a friend, but I knew it was time to head to the office, so I went to get myself together. I went to wash my face and discovered a spot of blood high on my nose by my right eye, surrounded by a bruise. My left brow was a little swollen. Interesting, I thought, now I actually have a physical pain and swelling right where I had an intense sensation of stress and tension before. I threw together my compuer backpack and the shiny silver sack with food knew I wasn't likely to eat, except for the apple. I know I'm hungry, but I don't want to eat, it doesn't seem right in a state like this, with my blood running and the wind blowing the palm tree right outside the office window as I pour my process out into the computer with great relief. Thank goodness for writing!

Shred said last night that I had a gift with verbal communication. She was amazed at something I'd written in my journal-- something I'd written in French, so no one could read it if they found my journal. Something I fould embarrassing, private, she thought it was beautiful, inspiring, and that I should put it on my future website as my vision statement. She asked for a copy of it. “I won't misuse it,” she assured me, though I don't know how she could... I guess if she used it without citing me? Anyway, it was nice to get good feedback about written/verbal skills, I have put a decent amount of energy into developing that.

She also said she thought people were intimidated by the way I talk.
“Really?! You mean at the ticket office?” I was surprised.... (well, mostly surprised, it also made sense)
“Yeah,” she said, “Sometimes you're like, '...and furthermore...' you come out with these big words when you're talking to ordinary people.”

How sad, I'm now thinking, that “ordinary” doesn't include a secure grasp of the language we all speak here.... In my world –the world that I'm used to, as well as the world that I want to help create for everyone-- ordinary DOES include a solid grasp of language, an ease with verbal, written and non-verbal communication....

Gotta go, breaktime.


Monday of the LAST WEEK!!!

Boy am I excited! Happy happy happy!


Wrote this probably Bad poetry in text messages last night to Pink, my virtual friend. We met briefly when his circus was near mine, mostly we text, sometimes we talk on the phone. He's one of those daring people with colorful tattoos and hair.
He told me he was listening to Johnny Cash live at San Quentin... I was in a bit of a state, I wrote back and let myself keep on writing...

Nice!
It burns, burns, burns,
that ring of fire.

But fire is cleansing, destruction
allows rebirth, new growth....
Let it take you higher,
the fire...
I'm trying to ride it high,
I've felt the fire,
it's propelling me
upwards into the air in a burst of sparks
that sizzle around me like sparkles,
like faireydust, like glitter
around a raver's eyes,
waterdrops in sunlight changing state with heat and
light, reflecting a ranbow outward
inspiring beings with their tranformation.

Warmpth, love spread outward
from fire when we aren't afraid
when we watch the balance
in ourselves and
in the system around us



Latenight same date

So I've been hanging out with Jesus :0
Just left his birthday party.
11 people, 10 guys and me, in one bedroom! Laro's, in the pony trailor. Some of the guys asked me (in spanish, of course; 90% of converation w/ Jesus is in Spanish too, my spanish is slowly improving),
'Are you going to take Gonzalo back to California with you?”
O, the social pressure around romance! I hang out with the guy a few days, exchange a few chast kisses and hugs, and now his buddies are asking me if I'm taking him with me to Cali!
“I don't know,” I chose to say, rather than embarassing him by coming right out and saying, “Um, no, actually I had absolutely no intention of doing that.” He said he wanted to see Cali and SF, asked him if I'd show him around SF, I told him I'd do so if he came to visit. He said not this year, maybe next. I told him I didn't know where I'd be, but if I was in SF I'd be happy to show him around.

A little later, he turned to me: “You're my gir!”
Call me a bitch, but this I could not have. Something deep inside revolted immnediately against the suggestion that hanging out with someone and exchanging 3 kisses made me “belong” to him. I couldn't allow it even to be nice.
“No, I'm not. No estoy la chica de nadie(spelling?)”
I felt a little guilty, like maybe I was lying a little. Would I let MagicBoy say I was his girl? But that's different, he would say it meaning I was special to him, not trying to possess me. What about ClearEyes? Would I let him get away with such a statement? But he just WOULDN'T say that, not at this point. It's the exteme prematurity that bothers me. Then again, there's a week left, who can blame Jesus for trying for as much intimacy as possible in a short time? It still makes me laugh, writing his name. 'Jesus wants me.' I'm hanging out with Jesus. It looks so funny.

“I'm not anybody's girl. Or, I'm everybody's girl.”
“Why?”
“I'm too independent. My life right now is performance, not relationships.”
And this is true: although I long for relationship, the choices I'm making are not centered around that, they are centered around my path. He looked sad, though, right in the middle of his birthday party. I felt bad.
“I'm sorry, that's just the way it is,”I said, rubbing his back. We were talking quietly in the noisy room, laying with Laro and another guy on Laro's bunk bed. “Don't be sad. It is the way it is.”
“It's okay. I understand,” Jesus said. “I want you to be happy. If you're not happy, I'm not happy.”
There is a way in which he is wonderfully mature, giving, grounded, and loving.

A few days ago, when I first rode with him in his friend Arturo's new car, and we stayed in the car talkng afterwards, I was so excited, talking to him. For a month now, I brushed off his crush. So he liked me... whatever, that doesn't mean anything special except that there are 3 single girls and lots more guys all working and living together. It's a numbers game; with so many guys and so few girls, how could I let myself be flattered by someone's affection? Of course he likes me, there's no one else here to like! I think I'm the ONLY single one at this point, I think everyone else is hooked up.
Ironic, that (or not?)I've worked so much in the realm of desire, and yet in some ways I find it hard to connect....

So when we were talking in the car and he was telling me he liked me, I was surprised to find that I did feel flattered, I did feel special for a moment. It's his 4th or so year here, he said, but I'm the first girl he liked (or the first girl who returned his attention?... the cynic in me questins).
Why didn't I let this happen earlier? I asked myself. I could have had a boyfriend for a month or two, and undoubtedly a quite devoted one....

The night after, Jesus helped Shredder and I hang my silks so we could practice. Svetlana taught me a brief sequence, different, new, fun! Then to Walmart with Jesus and brothers Arturo and Carlos, then I invited Jesus into my room for tea. We talked, I started feeling more and more comfortable. He really is warm, and in spite of constantly disclaming that he doesn't know how to talk to women, in some ways he knows exactly how. Others not, of course. It's weird, sometimes it feels like he's laying it on too heavy, too soon, at other I appreciate his unabashed and seemingly unconditional affection. Maybe I'm just lonely... I mean, of course I am...
So I've had some moments of vulnerable intimacy with Jesus, and more moments of setting boundries.
We kissed, it was nice. But I only wanted a little. He's sooooo innocent!

The next night was the last Saturday before the last Saturday, and following Erin's lead a bunch of us went bowling. Jesus, Shredder, Fernando, Arturo, I, and later Alejandro bowling, and Carlos, Marta, and Louis watching. I understood why I hadn't let it happen earlier: I would have gone crazy! The boy was CLINGY! Not that I can't be clingy; some clinginess is ok, pleasant even, if attraction is balanced... but he likes me more than I like him... poor boy. That itself is a big part of why I didn't go there earlier; I know he's in such a different world than I, emotionally and psychologically.

“He's probably ready to marry you,” Shred said, kinda joking but not really. And indeed, when we were talking about our future plans, he did invite me to come live with him, in his house. In a way, it's such a beautiful gift, that kind of openness from another human being. (Even though he must have known that my answer would be no!) I'm truly touched. But in another way, too much openness is getting in the way of just enjoying each other's company for a little while. I have to set so many boundries that I can no longer fully relax... Why does this sound famaliar? At least he's not pushy sexually, the way Michael was.... O, I can't wait to get back to San Francisco!

The next day was Jesus's 23rd birthday, but it was a travel day which is why the party was today.

BOYS BOYS BOYS....

I had a nice talk with ClearEyes tonight, about our lives and our relationships to our work, it was interesting and pleasant. He said he hopes to have some time to hang out by the time I get back!

“So you'll be susceptible to my influence!” I said. I'm not sure why I chose those words. There's something sublte that comes up sometimes, a feeling I get that sometimes he wants me to be dominant, or to be under my influence, or maybe just relax and let someone else take the reins. Those sexy comments he made early on about me driving his car, how that's the way it should be, me behind the wheel... we'll go anywhere I want... so enticing! (And the idea of submitting is enticing, too... i.e. with MagicBoy. Such a different dynamic than with ClearEyes. Perhaps it's submitting to MagicBoy, and Letting ClearEyes in? No, that's not right either. It's just opening, but with different flavors. So many shades of a similar thing!)
“I don't know about that,” he countered.
“You know you want it.” I said with confidence, enjoying the play.

We'd talked about his work, which was interesting and illuminating.
“WHY does your work take over your life, ClearEyes? I don't understand.” (as if my true work isn't my life?)
“Well, things could go wrong, and I get worried about it, and I don't want that to happen. Most of the people involved are pretty secure, they're not going to be paupers if this falls through, but I don't want that to happen, I feel reponsible.” That's normal.... He said there were some politics, and that not all of the partners were actually there, some were running other companies.
“One of the other guys, he's doing _____, he's in charge of ___________! I can't even begin to imagine that kind of responsibility! For me it's games, but that's serious responsibility.”

“I get that about you, that in a way its all a game to you.” I said.
“Yeah, for sure, but right now I'm too sucked in. I'm stressing out too much.”
“You gotta be careful, if you care too much, you're less likely to win.”
“I know, it's dangerous....”
“But at the same time, you gotta want it to accomplish something.” I was talking aloud my own process, thinking of my own struggle around this, for example with trying to get my silk act ready, and of how I'm walking the tight wire of confidence and dreaming big and groundedness, stability, and focus in acknowleding that I want to work towards Cirque du Soleil, facing my fears of unworthiness... “It's a fine balance, the desire and the not getting too wrapped up in it...” (I'm trying to recreate this conversation, its certainly not exact.)

We talked about this stuff, then Clear Eyes talked about how his friends were saying that he didn't look good, that he looked a lot better 9 months, a year ago. I encouraged him to go to Jim Donak and get the massage I gave him. He asked me for like the 4th time where it was, and I told him.
“It's close, 15 minutes from your house in morning rush hour traffic! [this is probably an exxageration] It's only far pshychologically... You should go, you'd feel better in many ways, not just physically. Jim's great, you can talk to him, he's wise and grounded.”


Wednesday 22 November

Last night I ran my silk act and Elmo taped it! It wasn't the best run, it was really cold, the music I'd pulled wasn't quite right, and I was nervous because of the filming and the people that were there, but I ran through it.
I FINALLY got to see myself on silks! Watching it afterwards on the little camcorder screen, I was surprised at how long, skinny, and floppy I looked. I definitely need more intention, confidence, and dynamism in my movements.
“I need to go faster,” I said aloud.
“No you don't,” said Yuri. “You're a big girl. Don't try to go fast. That's for short girls. You need to find better, slower music, and give people time to look at you.” Svetlana and Elmo concurred.
“You need to have more pauses, it will look better and it will give you time to rest as well.”
Elmo had said earlier, “There's so much wrapping and setup... you need to pause when you're done so the audience can enjoy something pretty.”

“You're a dancer. You're not an acrobat, don't try to compete with acrobats. Let them do lots of tricks. You need a few tricks, and you need to bring your dance into it.” Yuri added.


THANKSGIVING DAY 2006

I am extremely grateful to have been invited to share family Thanksgiving and great homemade food with Ted and Renee and family. Since we traveled tonight, we had the dinner last night. Delicious and fun! And we watched Cirque du Soleil La Nouba... beautiful! I've never seen it. The silk act...I had to put down my lemon cake.
The trampoline finale... we all kept saying, “I can't believe that's REAL!” It looked like special effects from a movie, with rigging and editing, but it was a real life, real time, perfectly choreographed and executed amazing acrobatic act. Wow.

Later Shred and Renee and I were laying on Renee's bed talking about the show and how amazing it was. Trying out being confident with my dreams, I said:
“I can see myself being a character dancer at Cirque du Soleil, and perhaps doing some aerial ensemble work.” I could be corps de ballet, Cirque style, I thought to myself with an inward chuckle. “What do you guys think?”
“Sure, why not?” said Renee.
“For sure.” Erin told me.


DRAMA

One of ther performers here, who shall remail unnamed, is losing it, cracking. In front of the audience, even: he did inappropriate things in front of 1,100 people. I went by his place to check on him a couple times, wanting to give him some support, show him he's cared about, hopefully help him process some of the anger that's controlling him.... The first time it was helpful, I believe. Just now he was talking about violence, doing violence to other people here. 'I am out of my depth here,' I thought to myself. I called Erin; she said she'd tell Renee, and that we'd have a powow when they got here. I'm sitting, once again, in their trailor, waiting to talk.
I think it's most likely that this angry person is just venting, and that it will blow over. But, I'm not sure. He is not himself right now, and he's already done things I never thought he'd do. I don't want to be a rat, especially unnecessarily... but if he did crack and somehow hurt another person on the show, and I'd known ahead of time that he was talking about doing so and then I hadn't told anyone, I'd feel Terrible. So, I've told my most levelheaded friends, and we're discussing. Thank goodnes.

Followup: We had powow with Renee and Ted, they calmed me down, and we came up with a plan to show caring to the individual in question. Ted may have talket to him, and we exectued our plan, which he appreciated, and everything was fine. Three cheers for community!!

Monday 4 December 2006

DONE!!

I did it, I did it! I performed 540ish shows, over 36ish weeks, in 13? states... without missing a single performance! I performed when I was happy, I performed when I was upset, I performed when I was heartbroken, when I was sick, naseous and dizzy every time I got out of bed, so sick that I could not sit on a chair in the office and sell tickets for 75 minutes, I lay down on the floor of the office and finally went to lie down in my room... but still I climbed the ladder when it came time to do so.

I performed slightly injured, when something on my right rear ribcage was out of alignment, when every step on the ground sent pain to my ribcage, when I couldn't breathe naturally up there or do the routine with full grace, still I did it... I don't know if that sounds dramatic, I read what I've written and think, “am I really that tough?” but at the time doing so just felt necessary and normal.... and it was was facing the pain that healed me. Blaze had advised me: “Don't let yourself get sucked into the fear of the injury.” So I went up every day and realized that it wasn't that bad, and practiced silk in the evening until I literally couldn't lift myself anymore... and after about 5 days of performing through pain (during which time it never once occurred to me to take painkillers, isn't that weird? I was taking arnica, icing, etc), the show happened upon one of the most amazing audiences of the season. It was a suburb of Philadelphia, I believe, and the general admission was full of kids from the shelter system, they'd come with chaperones in yellow school busses. They were largely African American, they weren't afraid to respond to the performance. When “Thriller,” came on, they started screaming. All of us felt this unusual energy, we all smiled at each other during the dance. Most of my pain left me. I thought to myself,
“Ignore the pain, don't let it clip your wings, this audience deserves the highest level of performance,” and I climbed my ladder with gusto and threw myself fearlessley into the routine, even more enthusiastic than normal as they started SINGING ALONG to “Billy Jean”... and halfway through, I felt a couple pops in my ribcage, and a lightness, a slight easing of tension. “It's popping back into alignment! My body is fixing itself!” I realized with joy, then forgot about it until I came down, walked out the back door, and realized that I no longer had pain with every step, realized that being bouyed up with joy by that audience had taken me past my pain and fear, and once I had let go of fear and pain, my body let itself fall back into alignment. What a miracle.

I didn't expect to write about this now, I can't remember if I wrote about it before, but it just came tumbling out.... anyway! The point of this entry is this:

I wanted to do it right, I wanted to do an entire tour without missing a show, and I did it. I'm proud of myself.

I've been done for a week now, actually...still hafta write about trapezeBoy & trapeze class & Epcott & La Nouba & & &... THE FLORIDA KEYS, advice from an Irish bloke, the Hurricane Lounge adventure& Eric...


KEY WEST

FINDING A LITTLE SISTER.

I didn't want her, I don't know if I'm ready... but I think there's no helping it, I think I've found a little sister. She's coping well through difficult circumstances, her radiance shines out and all around her respond to it. I'm pretty sure she'll be just fine regardless... but I find that I want to show her things, take her under my wing just a little, even if from a distance, pass on to a confident but struggling young woman the wisdom and love that was passed on to my by Metahara and others. I don't know if I'm ready to be someone's Big Sister, I don't know if she wants one, but I just feel like that's what's happening. Or maybe it's not a big/little sister relationship, maybe we'll just be friends and lovers... I do feel as if I've fallen in love a little...

She found me, actually. I was going to the western beach at Key West to watch the sunset, I had a feeling that I'd find people there to hang out with, and indeed, I saw some scruffy kids hanging out on a blanket, including one tall slim cute girl... but first I went to say hello to the ocean and dance in the waves. I was dancing along, away from them, when I heard a voice behind me:

“Are you a six food tall redhead, too?” She had followed me, and she was indeeed a slight but tall pretty girl with red hair.
“No, I'm only five nine,” I respnded.
“I thought you weren't quite as tall as me, but Will thought you were, so I came to ask you... would you like to come sit down with us for a bit?”

I did. My first impression was that she was the kind of kid that talks tougher than she is just to deal. I hung out with them briefly, passed on their invitation to hang out more, gave her my number, said I'd try to meet them later but never bothered. She called me the next day, invited me to come meet her... I kind of didn't want to hang out with her, I had a feeling that her life was complicated and that I'd somehow get incorperated into it... but I was lonely, I remembered her charisma and warmpth. I didn't want to go meet her, but I told her where I was, and she walked across the island (it's not that far) and found me... and I was glad to see her.

She brighter than the previous day, with bounce in her step, a green shirt her hair in goldern red gurls loose around her face, eyes clear, and a radiant smile as she came up to me, clearly glad to have found me. I realized that I was attracted to her, and her to me. It was fun. I always say I want to have some girl romance, but I seldom meet girls I'm attracted to at enough levels who also seem open to romance with other girls... it was so fun to realize that it was actually happening, that I'd met a sexy, beautiful girl I really liked who liked me too.

I thought of what MagicBoy had told me a not half an hour before when I was a little down, lonely and trying to figure out what to look for in my evening.

“I don't know what I want. I think I'd have a better chance of finding it if I knew what it was. You know me well, MagicBoy, what do you think I want?”

--I think you want to find someone you feel comfortable connecting with, someone like you.
--Boy or girl?
--I don't think it matters. Not necessarily a sexual connection.
--I think you're right.

It didn't seem obvious how to find this. I didn't think consciously about BrightGirl, as I'll call her here, but later when I saw her, I was like, “Duh! I need to just let myself hang out with this girl and see what happens.”

The more I hung out with BrightGirl, the more I was impressed by her attitude, way of being, and bright light. She is one of those people who have responded to a tough life in with grace and what seems to be an amazingly pure openheartedness.
I found myself thinking, OK, it might be nice to stay in contact with this one, it might be a good thing.