Visioning The New Year Part II: The Jason Journal

(Continued from Part I: Mandala Misgivings)

In October 2013, I had the honor of working with a remarkable group from First Unitarian in Brooklyn Heights on a production of Mother Wove the Morning -- a theatre show of monologues and vignettes of women's stories throughout history. 

The producers had seen Blood on the Veil and asked me to do an entr'acte to Act 2 excerpting a brief monologue from my show, and ending with a dance where I would bring the cast onstage as part of the routine.

I was initially nervous working with this new group, but was so impressed by the integrity of their work, their commitment not simply to honoring the feminine, but to expressing how the denigration of the feminine hurts both men and women (the final monologue was by a man) ... the experience proved magical beyond my hopes.

Since then, I've joined them for various events and outings, including a trip to see Judy Chicago's watershed feminist art installation The Dinner Party at The Brooklyn Museum, and a winter solstice celebration where we shared songs and poems. I choreographed a simple candle dance that the group could do in a circle, in the tradition of sacred circle dances. 

Then in early January the group exchanged a few emails about putting together "Goddess Vision Boards" ... now, what were these? A scrapbook-type collage of images and words pulled from magazines, calendars, and other printed media, maybe with some other sparkly-starry-glittery stuff thrown in. 

In other words:  Barf.

You see, I hate scrapbooking. I mean I REALLY HATE scrapbooking. 

Over the years I've done various new agey workshops, retreats, seminars--you name it--where inevitably the instructor/leader/facilitator shows up one day with a bunch of magazines and scissors. And if I know this day is coming, I unfailingly find a way to have a "scheduling conflict."

The last time scrapbooking came into my life was at one of Dunya's Dancemeditation retreats a few years ago, where we were to paste images into our journals. (Journals. Ugh. Another practice that I have detested passionately since grade school, but which has plagued me like Jason from Friday the 13th.) 

But it was part of The Work, and I was committed to The Work. (Plus I was staying at the retreat center and I had already managed to get sick enough to stay in bed during Scrapbook Day the year before.)

And so I brought my ugly little book and wrote in it during the detested journal exercises. My pen would drag and halt on the page; I'd feel like my body was covered in goo. I felt like everything I wrote was idiotic and embarrassing.

And, yes, I asked myself why it bothered me so much ... and came up with the usual answers: It felt childish, self-indulgent, foolish. And I did not want to be any of those things. 

And when Scrapbook Day came around, and I looked at the flapping mound of periodicals in the center of the room ... I felt scared. It was just too much stuff, too many images. How could I choose? 

And I realized that the sense of childishness, foolishness came from feeling overwhelmed -- as I felt so often from around age 6. There was always too much information, too many choices; how could I choose? 

And how could I know I made the right choice? The choice that deserved to be put on paper and surrounded by words from my pen? And how did I know that even those words deserved to be committed to paper? (And why the hell was I getting so upset about this??!?!)

And that's where the dreaded self-indulgent part came in. 

For reasons that I'll explore more fully in another entry, I have since early childhood had a persistent unrelenting shaming voice that told me that anything I liked or wanted was bad or wrong, or I was bad or wrong for wanting or liking it. Expressing a like or desire was to open myself up to shame and ridicule, so I found myself constantly asking, "Is it OK to like such-and-such" or worse, "what should I like."

It's that second question that is the killer. Because once you begin to program yourself to second-guess and/or crush every impulse, you will close off your native creativity--which is guided by those very feelings, wants, impulses.

So I started with the journal. 

I found some images I sort of liked and pasted them in. It felt fake and stupid, but I did it anyway. When, as assigned, I wrote in the journal -- eventually coming to those images (the idea was that they would inspire your writing as you came to them), I felt pretty dull, numb, and irritated by them. 

So I wrote about the dullness, numbness, and irritation. 

And I found that just acknowledging those feelings began to open a door. 

I never did take up handwritten journaling as a consistent practice, but my writing began to free up -- which ultimately led me to trust myself enough to blog a bit more (speaking of self-indulgent acts! ☺), and then to write Blood on the Veil.

Last year I had become friendly with a painter, who inspired me towards putting images on paper.

And then came Goddess Vision Board Day....

To be continued....

Gathering Storms and Other Stuff I've Been Up to This Crazy Summer

Last blog entry June 2nd.

If I were a starship captain, I'd be fired for dereliction of duty.

How do frequent bloggers do it? I find it so difficult just to get done what I need to get done... and then to find time to write about it when what I crave is a brain-break of Big Bang Theory and a bottle of beer. Usually I opt for the brain-break.

But, in a nutshell, here is what I've been up to these past 12-or-so weeks:

JUNE:

The first weekend of June, I took Tamalyn Dallal's teacher's training workshop and emcee'd the showcase for it (indeed, the last event I listed on my calendar).

Then, having graduated from the PIT's fifth and final improv level, I signed up for two new PIT electives:  Jen Nails' "Do-It-Yourself" Solo Show Workshop, and Alex Zalben's Level 1 Intro to Sketch Writing. Both of these had very nice showcases in early August which I completely failed to mention on my calendar here, but to which people showed up anyway.

But that is August, and I am still in June.

As it happened, I missed the second of both of these courses because I spent a glorious week in Santa Fe at Dunya's Dancemeditation (aka Summer Movement Monastery) retreat at the blissfully restful Synergia Ranch.

And I saw a couple of awesome snakes:



I took a bunch of pictures with my Android which should be visible to the public here through my Facebook photo album.

I actually started a blog entry when I was there, describing the place, the people, blah blah blah, but I never finished it and it is still sitting unpublished in Draft mode along with a half-dozen pieces I did about the production of PURE Reflections in Japan last year.
 
And I took an awesome six-week Shakespeare Intensive with the Royal Shakespeare Company's indomitable Lisa Harrow.  (That's her standing in front of me ... regal and beautiful as ever.)



We did sonnets, soliloquies and scenes. A triple-S threat.

I returned to NYC in late June to learn we had lost a warm friend and dear human being, Adam Hocherman:



JULY:

I danced at Kamasutra Lounge with the Rising Sirens, and took and passed the SharQui instructor training workshop.

I joined Altagracia's Caribbean Roses for a gorgeous Flamenco-bellydance number at Lafayette Grill, and debuted two stunning feather boa fans that I inherited from the ravishing Hannah Nour.

Now all I need is to get my group fitness certification... Not so easy! I shelled out nearly $600 for the materials, but have I had time to study... nooooo!! And why? 

Two little words:  PURE Reflections.



(This incidentally, is the excellent promo video Lale's husband Kenji put together from his footage from the Japan show. It was created to compete for a $25,000 in the Pepsi Refresh Everything contest, but there were just not enough bottle caps for us... Maybe next month... but I digress...)

We had been asked to mount a production in Taiwan in September -- but we had not worked on the show at all since the Japan production in late November.

Now, bear in mind, when we do PURE Reflections, we are not simply bringing a show to a new venue; we are recreating the entire thing with a whole new set of dancers. So I was absolutely not going to let us present material to a group of women who had sacrificed a week of their time for this project without having it fresh in our bodies and minds.

Also, when we normally produce the show, it is with a cast of 25 or more, to give as many dancers as possible the opportunity to be a part of the production, as well as the soul-searching workshops and rehearsal process. But this time we decided to scale it down to only seven people, to see if the show even could accommodate a smaller space and tighter budget

But even with the smaller cast, scheduling was a bitch.

Key dancers like Kaeshi, Pacita and B were frequently travelling. We had one rehearsal with the entire cast in mid-July and did not have the full cast again until two days before the show.

But I've directed so many plays in similar circumstances, so I knew it could be done.

Two amazing PURE members, Liz and Catherine, stepped up and understudied for whomever was not at rehearsal.

And that brings us to...

AUGUST:

I taught some dance at Greehouse and finger cymbals for Bellyqueen (interesting that I am the only Bellyqueen teacher who is not and will never be a Bellyqueen member... but I have barely enough time to keep up with the Sirens choreography, so maybe being a professional troupe member is not in the cards for me... Ah well...)

I took an improv intensive with the Groundlings' Gary Austin.

But mostly I focused on PURE Reflections.

And we did it!!

The show came together in so many surprising and beautiful ways. Marius Shanzer took some lovely photographs, an Amy and Kenji took footage -- so you'll see some of that when it's ready.

And then there was the Hurricane. Epic destruction not withstanding, I have to say I was kind of glad to have had the weekend off.

And now...  I need to prepare for September!

Bringing the show to Taiwan is going to be a whole 'nuther ball of crazy wax. And I can't wait!

Third Day Back in Civilization (and email updates)

Although I officially returned from Dunya's blissful Dancemeditation Retreat on Thursday, June 24th, I officially count my return to the mundane world from Sunday because I took a brief weekend sojourn through the magical land of Jehan-world.

In spite of my foot injury, and in spite of the fact that I'd be gone right up until a few hours before opening night, Jehan asked me to dance in her spectacular Cirque Arabesque -- which was a vote of confidence I couldn't refuse.

My mission: Choreograph a routine with fellow amazonian dancer Jaklina (who, at 6'2" and size 8, and makes me look short and round) to complement six other numbers where 1 to 10 other dancers will be performing. This was a vote of confidence I could not refuse.

And somehow, through the use of video, internet and blind faith, we got it together for four amazing shows.

Now... about the Dancemeditation Retreat...

This was my third, for three years in a row ... in a nutshell, we dance for seven hours a day (four hours in the morning, and three in the evening) with a four-hour break.

During the break we rest, meditate, walk, swim, sometimes shop the local fare, maybe hit the internet (although we couldn't pick up a signal this year, and it was a pain to trudge up to the library for wireless).

And we eat -- all ultra-healthy, ultra-vegan, raw food.

Or we don't eat.

Often people will elect to fast, usually eating only watermelon. (Last year I made it through three watermelon fast days.)

But for a reason I never learned there was no watermelon this year, so fasters were confined to a diet of coconut water -- which turned out to be a lot less painlful than I'd imagined

In fact, the only pain was that I was missing all the tasty meals being served, so I only fasted for a day.

But I kind of enjoyed the fast, so I may buy a case of Zico at some point and fast a few days here and there during the summer (it's always better to fast during warmer weather).

The weirdest thing about the Retreat is how time bends, compresses and expands. Things that happened that morning seemed like ancient history; yet the days flew by.

Many times I wanted to blog, but didn't make it to the library.

So I've enabled email updates.

More on the Retreat later.

And my next post will be emailed.... :-)