Kamloops, the city we are rehearsing in, is one of the only places in Canada to be classified as a "desert". The land is jutting and exposed, layers of brown with only the occasional manicured green lawn for reprieve. It is so dry here that M.'s eyes are going red with her contacts in, all of our skin seems to be drinking up the moisturizer we put on it, and even the ground itself seems to crack open.
I have become a bit of a semi-arid desert myself of late. Rehearsals are HARD, physically exhausting and technically demanding. Its hard to present a confidant front when each hour seems to break down your self-esteem and each criticism drain your last bit of energy. My carefully presented surface is cracking under stress and exhaustion.
Because all of the company is living together while we are on tour it is impossible to hide anything. I do not like to show weakness, especially here, as I already feel like the underdog in this group -- having far less dance training and ability. I am spent...completely. And it doesn't help that this city is teeming with painful memories from my past. The girls noticed and M . and A. tried to give me a hug, I refused. Sometimes I feel like love is like water in a desert. It is exactly what I need, but even one drop will bring the whole pillar of sand crumbling down, leaving me a muddy mess.
It is difficult for me to accept love...I have always felt that isolating myself, and surviving on my own is safer. If my ability to be whole does not relie on anyone else then no one can disappoint me. But the truth is I have -like all humans- always craved love. I have longed for people who would break through my tough front and love me. Seeing this wall cracking down, around near strangers no less, is incredibly painful. Painful but also healing --when I finally allowed myself to cry in front of the women in the dance company it was a relief. I was bare and exposed and it was wonderful.
The desert seems harsh at first, the rocks and dirt a rough replacement for the greenery of home...but I am learning that it can be beautiful. When the sun sets here the pinks of the sky intermingle with the orange browns of the ground swirling me into the landscape...like a comforting embrace.
The time for refusing love has come to an end.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Montana Tour Day Three,Four, and Five
Kamloops, the city we are rehearsing in, is one of the only places in Canada to be classified as "desert". The land is jutting and exposed, layers of brown with only the occasional manicured green lawn for reprief. It is so dry here that M.'s eyes are going red with her contacts in, all of our skin seems to be drinking up the moisturizer we put on it, and even the ground itself seems to crack open.
I have become a bit of a semi-aried desert myself of late. Rehersals are HARD, physically exhausting and technically demanding, we all struggle to retain the dances we are learning. Its hard to present a confidant front when each hour seems to break down your self-esteem. My carefully presented surface is cracking under stress,exhaustion, and critique. Because all of the company is living together while we are on tour it is impossible to hide anything. I do not like to show weakness, especially here, as I already feel like the underdog in this group -- having far less dance training and ability. But I have not been able to hide.I am spent...completely. The girls noticed and M tried to give me a hug, I refused. Sometimes I feel like love is like water in a desert. It exactly what I need, but even one drop with bring the whole pillar of sand crumbling down, leaving me a muddy mess.
The girls allowed me more time and I crumbled all on my own. You see my father died in Kamloops 2 years ago. I avoid coming here because of that. To make matters worse the hospice he died in is literally a block from where all of us are staying - I drive by it every day on the way to rehearsal. Very few people know much of this part of my life and sharing it with the dancers I thought would leave me powerless.
It didn't.
Crying with them was a relief. I was bare and exposed and it was wonderful. The desert seems harsh at first, the rocks and dirt a rough replacement for the greenery of home...but I am learning that it can be beautiful. When the sun sets here it is amazing the pinks of the sky with the orange brown of the ground makes you feel swirled into the landscape...like a hug. The time for refusing love has come to an end.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Montana Tour Day One and Two
“To set spirit free from stone” – Alison Wearing
I love this quote. A sculptor wrote it and it speaks to me of what I want my art to be -- of what I want my life to be, my art setting free the broken through the love of God.
Nerves, hesitancy, and excitement all intermingled yesterday as I drove to meet the other 3 women in the dance company I am now a part of. The 4 of us come from all over North America and have, without ever meeting each other (and some with out even meeting the company director or her us, since auditions were by DVD) decided to commit the next 4 months of our lives to tour a brand new production about poverty, the oppressed, and human suffering. The show is a multimedia production that will tours across America, Canada, and Belize raising fund for social justice non-profit-organizations at home and abroad.
Aw doesn’t that sound ever so artistically wonderful and lofty?
– enter reality stage right.
Yesterday after 2 of the girls flew from the east coast (one with her teething one year old baby) we all packed into an incredibly tiny hatchback and headed off for the interior of BC where we would be rehearsing. Ok now when I say `packed in` I mean PACKED IN, every inch of the car was covered in our luggage, dance wear, purses, oh and of course a stroller and car seat. Exhausted we arrived right before midnight at the house we would be staying at. A house that has no hot water, only 1 bed (a single at that), and -as of this moment- no toilet paper, somehow the shows themes have seeped into our lives…(okay I am exaggerating, after all real poverty is not the absence of sheets and hair blow dryers).
The work is inspiring, the rehearsals physically exhausting, and the potential of what lies ahead in the tour brings goose bumps to my arms. I am discovering one cold shower at a time that I am not quite the self sacrificing humanitarian that I supposed – and one sore muscle at a time am discovering my humanity. Apparently setting spirit free from stone requires a little more chiselling than I knew.
Stay tuned…
I love this quote. A sculptor wrote it and it speaks to me of what I want my art to be -- of what I want my life to be, my art setting free the broken through the love of God.
Nerves, hesitancy, and excitement all intermingled yesterday as I drove to meet the other 3 women in the dance company I am now a part of. The 4 of us come from all over North America and have, without ever meeting each other (and some with out even meeting the company director or her us, since auditions were by DVD) decided to commit the next 4 months of our lives to tour a brand new production about poverty, the oppressed, and human suffering. The show is a multimedia production that will tours across America, Canada, and Belize raising fund for social justice non-profit-organizations at home and abroad.
Aw doesn’t that sound ever so artistically wonderful and lofty?
– enter reality stage right.
Yesterday after 2 of the girls flew from the east coast (one with her teething one year old baby) we all packed into an incredibly tiny hatchback and headed off for the interior of BC where we would be rehearsing. Ok now when I say `packed in` I mean PACKED IN, every inch of the car was covered in our luggage, dance wear, purses, oh and of course a stroller and car seat. Exhausted we arrived right before midnight at the house we would be staying at. A house that has no hot water, only 1 bed (a single at that), and -as of this moment- no toilet paper, somehow the shows themes have seeped into our lives…(okay I am exaggerating, after all real poverty is not the absence of sheets and hair blow dryers).
The work is inspiring, the rehearsals physically exhausting, and the potential of what lies ahead in the tour brings goose bumps to my arms. I am discovering one cold shower at a time that I am not quite the self sacrificing humanitarian that I supposed – and one sore muscle at a time am discovering my humanity. Apparently setting spirit free from stone requires a little more chiselling than I knew.
Stay tuned…