...dancing as fast as i can...

this line actually occurs to me a lot (and reminds me of the movie of the same name starring the awesome Jill Clayburgh [RIP] that came out at a time in my life when everything was so important, and it seemed every movie of the time had so much to say to me. C'mon: Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Blade Runner, Tron-ferCrissakes! wow, now i've really digressed...).

As I was mentioning earlier, the sense of dancing to keep up is something I've hit against this week. I had a huge moment of feeling like i was moving my feet, but i wasn't getting anywhere, and there were so many places I felt I needed to get. It didn't occur to me to just stand still and breathe. It also didn't occur to me that these moments I was tussling with were luxurious ones to have. (As a friend used to put it when we'd all commiserate after class about our life, our life, our life. oh, the drama, mostly they were luxurious problems.)

Moment: Somewhere around Monday I felt overwhelmed because I'd taken on two new book projects to edit and freaked out that I'd never have time to work on them. Luxury: two different publishing houses feel i do a good enough job that they want to pay me for freelance projects. This is not a problem.

Moment: On Tuesday, the Kickstarter fundraising was a day away from ending with us still short of our goal money for the Pole Play. Luxury: Within the 36 hours we had left, money came in to take us above and beyond what we needed—and this included backing from a friend who I hadn't been in touch with for awhile and whose generosity totally reminded me that people don't disappear from your life (unless you really want them to).

Moment: On Wednesday the class assignment was not moving me. We were meant to think on what we would want to be when we grew up (still an act in progress, apparently), and of course all that was tumbling in my mind was Well I wanted to be a ballerina, to ride a pony, to be a princess...but really I've been happy in what career i went toward and experienced. I thought if i went in as the little girl, playing something that moved me from my youth (led Zeppelin, thank you), that I could see where it took me. After putting on a little skirt and socks, and adding in the tall shoes, cuz why not?, one of my classmates said, "Oh, you wanted to be a groupie when you grew up." Ha...that was kind of true. To have control of the male gaze, to not be afraid of my sexuality, that was probably closer to the case...but as a career move...yikes. My dance started off with the tease but ended with me pulling off the skirt and not giving a f&k if anyone paid attention or not. Luxury: C's comments: "I'm glad you took off that skirt, because your power lives underneath it and you're beginning to not be afraid of it being seen and felt." (Now I'll await the call to speak at Career Day...)

Moment: On Thursday, I found myself yearning for one household to live in, rather than the funny back and forth I'm doing now between my honey's and mine. I was impatient with no bites on my sublet ads and the real estate guy who was enlisted to put out the word. Luxury: A couple of people have dropped me a line interested in seeing the space. Also, and even more important, this so-called problem comes because of love. This is not a problem.


The view from my window that someone else will soon be lucky enough to see...

a view

I've just gotten a chance to peek into myself from the outside looking in. Not by way of an out-of-body experience, but instead through the lens of a camera. I was in a darkened room with a pole, a velvet-curtained wall, a wooden floor. I had picked some music that I knew would help me move, and that i also knew the words to. I was wrapped up in clothing that made me feel both exposed and free, but also pieces that reminded me that i was enclosed in them (laces crisscrossing up my legs tightly; a corset with stays and hooks pressing in when i moved a certain way). The woman who took the shots was so cool. Just a presence really. And when I did hear her, it wasn't intrusive as in "You look fabulous, baby" but more "Wow, stay there for just a minute more." And I did. Stay there. I'm still there, apparently. And it's challenging.

At the first full view of the photos, I had to look away a lot because they(me) made me uncomfortable. I kept thinking Who is that staring back at me? What is she thinking with her hands there on her body? How did she get to the place where she's even in front of this camera? The moments that had me most kerfluffled were the ones where I'm looking right into the camera. It seems like I'm asking for something. An invitation to come find me in here, to understand that now more than ever I can expose flaws and all without tucking into a ball and rolling away. There's also a hint of wondering if someone else might know more than me who I am and where I'm going. the unwavering glance suggests that the question is mostly aimed inward.

When the pictures were being snapped, I knew i wanted to be playful with the camera, but as with most intentions, that didn't really end up happening (except at the end when I felt like I was swinging-round the maypole). Instead I really felt a pure sensuality and at times the camera became my lover (and a fleeting vision of how he would feel while seeing the pictures spurred me on in those moments), but more than that, I felt safe in the exposure. Moving through the layers of the places my movement has taken me—how the dance and the emotional intertwine.

There were a couple of moments when i felt a sort of wardrobe malfunction happen and i'd think, damn, that's probably more than i want to show...but even still, bumps, bulges and all, that was mostly very far from my mind. In fact, feeling and seeing All.Of.It is a place I continue to move into slowly. And these photos really showed me that my eyes are more open to it all than they've ever been. And so follows the rest of me.

I keep looking at these shots and teasing out the moments of where i am now (ever-changing, i know): from someone whose normally been challenged to not make a face when facing a lens to someone whose curious enough to keep on looking. a little bit challenging. a dash of defiance and a shake of a question. I find myself wanting to hold the gaze.

nothing left to lose

"Freedom is in the unknown. If you believe there is an unknown everywhere, in your own body, in your relationships with other people, in political institutions, in the universe, then you have maximum freedom." John C. Lilly

So I came across that quote the other day and it occurred to me that I've apparently never really wanted to be free. yikes. Sure, I've told myself that I have, but i think when it comes right down to it, Hells, no...the unknown seems too scary. I'm a girl that likes to know (where I'm going, how long it will take, what I may find), to the extent that I used to do dry runs out to the new schools I was teaching workshops in, just so I'd know what travel weirdness I'd have to deal with so as not to be surprised on my first morning of class. I'm also often early for appointments, leading to occasional trouble. (like the time I showed up for a possible tutoring job a half-hour early and while waiting on the stoop managed to help get my potential employer's cat stolen. I didn't mean to do that. At the time it seemed like a good idea to help the "rescue" lady who turned up and put the collar-less, rather mangy cat that I'd been petting in her car to go get shots and a bath. The fact that I lied to the cat's owner when she got home that I hadn't seen a/her cat on the stoop was a particular low-point. In the end, I got the job[!?], the cat was returned [never again to be very friendly to me], and i tried very hard to just be on time in order to avoid similar incidents.)

So, freedom. A concept. A consideration. (A George Michael song.) I find myself currently staring at door #1, behind which seems to be a whole empty room of unknowns. I'm pretty sure door #2 and 3 hold more of the same sameness that I'm used to—assumptions, judgments, limitations. First I find that by telling my fears out loud, I'm actually being heard. Of course this also has to do with whose on the listening end. I tried it the other night...terrified of an unknown road that I thought was leading into a relationship cul-de-sac (round-and-round I was afraid of going), and found that this stretch of emotional highway actually led somewhere really excellent: a welcome mat where neither one nor the other of us disappeared behind a proverbial closed door, and where I learned that patience, saying what I need, trusting and allowing us to take our time, even when our timing or needs are not altogether the same, is a good&necessary thing.

I also now know that when my mind thinks it wants to move my body a certain way in class (or anywhere, really)—because though I tell myself to let go, I am so often already moving two steps ahead of myself—that suddenly and recently my body just won't follow. Happened last night, I had this great idea for a climb I wanted to do and instead couldn't make it even one pull up. Slipped right down and crumpled on the floor. Not a bad thing. didn't hurt myself. Freedom looked pretty geeky. in the end, i didn't care. totally unknown territory to me.

This sunday, watching the marathon from the sidelines will be an emotional unknown. Having been one of those in the pack for the last three years, I have no idea the rollercoaster of stuff I may feel as I cheer on friends and strangers. But I do now have the freedom to stay up past 9PM the night before and therefore got to make plans with my honey to go out. that's pretty cool.

more chances for unknown places.








Early for work one morning. freedom to...er, play?