Day 2

Where to start? There's so much i want to get down and remember. And now it is 3:30am my time, my body is crippled and desparately crys for rest. But my mind has been waiting all day to blog.

Since i first opened my eyes this morning to now i've been completely absorbed in dance. As usual, The Guru races about at breakneck speeds attending to the many facets of her over-extended life. She is exhausted. Teaching, dance classes, private lessons, correspondance, planning, performances, book writing, research, cooking - the commitments are unending.

When i woke up that i may have been too late and hurried downstairs to find whether i missd her. But no sooner did i descend the stairs did she whiz by me in her faded pastel robe, frantically moving about. She greeted me as she rapidly picked things up and put them back down around the living room overflowing with stacks of papers, books, video equipment, photographs, newspapers clippings and costumes. "Oh i'm glad i didn't miss you!" And she assured me that she wouldn't have left me behind. She was scrambling to find photographs of her younger years, she explained - for an interview this week that will cover the progression of her work "She wants the photos today! ..Well, " she conceded, "she'll just have to wait!" And then she moved on to the kitchen to make some tea, "this is where the honey is. And here is the milk. In the mornings, help yourself. " And she pointed to where things were. "I'll keep showing you as we go."

And she asked the Mr as he appeared. "What do you want for breakfast! Eggs?! Toast?!"

"OK"

"Indigo?!"

"Ahhhh, sure!"

"There's no butter! You'll have to have jam!"

And they argued for a moment about the true status of the butter as she hurriedly finished cooking, handed us our plates."I'm off to the bank. Indigo be ready when i come back!"

"Great!"

So, i ran upstairs and made some (now missing) posts. (Can i just say how cool it is too steal wireless internet from the "Young's Home" i think next door?) When she returned she handed me the keys, (she doesn't like to drive) and i gladly obliged and we headed off for campus. Its been so, so long since i've hung out at my alma matter. When we arrived, i felt at once like i was finally home. By comparison, 6 years of living in Hawaii and i still felt alien. Grammar school was awkward. Highschool i was a freak. New York? It's a little too soon to tell.

Hands full with dance music cassettes, a boombox and a dozen O ds i Pthfdr books, we bee-lined for her office where she set me up to hang while she lectured in her academic program. She moves pretty fast for someone 6 decades old. To keep up i have to almost skip.

Her office looked great. It used to more closely resemble the current state of her living room: packed full with tapes and papers and books and - boxes to the sky. But i guess the college gave her two added rooms where's she expanded to store her some of her things. She said it was their bargaining chip to keep her in the building. (She's not afraid to boast.) This allowed her to clear out the center of the large room where now she's able to use "a $750 dollar rolling mirror they bought" her to rehearse between class. It's nice. And it adds flexibility in case the building's other studio rehearsal spaces are all filled up.

Anyway, she pulled a few choice performace videos for my viewing of various gurus and dncrs. from a bookcase. I was amused to see the same yellow post-its with my very own handwriting from so many years ago intact. I'd used them to label start labeling areas around the shelves to develop some sort of sense and order to things. (Before i left i'd begun to spend much time there late at night: organizing and sorting. I loved the unlimited access to the deep vault of learning and she appreciated the help.) By that point, i was so poor, she gifted me with lessons in exchange. This was a special thing, reflective of our special emerging relationship. More and more, we were resembling the indian gurukul tradition, until i became too hurt and frightened and impulsively severed it by moving to Hawaii. And what i mean by sever, is that The Guru and The Mr were furious. Furious with me for leaving. I was disowned. Once again a dancer left her and they bemoaned their fate. It's heartwrenching to see that even now, 14 years since i first met her, that this pattern persists, and they perpetuate the pain.

In a few hours she wrapped up her academic class, and then fetched me to join her in the dance class. Heads turned and became silent when we walked in. She glowingly introduced me and they gasped when she said i was their (other) teacher's first teacher. (Eimaj now teaches the begining class.) I love-hate that. She's notorious for building you up while tearing you down. I shrunk and looked away in the face of the piled up expectations. "But i haven't danced in years!" i pled. I smiled and they stared.

"Go ahead! Warm up Indigo!"

Oh lord, now i have to dance?

I stood in the back for the exercises and tried to echoe their steps. I watched their movements and they curiously glanced in the mirror at me. A couple students were amazing and i was terribly impressed. Watching them was extremely helpful, their torso movements and hand position were beautiful! The Guru says her style has been evolving, and it shows. It seems certain steps are more articulated, and more clearly expressed. Whereas previously we learned most usually through simply observing and copying. Those who needed extra feedback or deconstructing quickly fell behind or petered out.

After the Guru's class, Eimaj started her beginning class which i also joined in. (She'd invited me when i saw her yesterday during the 3 hour City class and offered to drive me home.) ....Again, a dramatic introduction, again their wide-eyes dissolved me. Eimaj lectured the first hour about the history and culture of the d ance. She was terrific! Knowlegable, articulate, friendly and organized. She fielded all their questions like a pro! Those kids (did i just say kids?) are lucky to have her, to start with her and get that foundation. I wish i'd had someone to interpret things for me when i began. The Guru undoubtedly is a scholar, but in lectures she skips around. Because of her intimidating presence, few people ask questions to fill in the blanks. And when on occasion there is that brazen student willing to dig in, i've seen some very bad, baaad things happen to them.

Afterwards, Eimaj and i chatted excitedly and made some plans. She's happy to have someone to practice with for a while since recently the last of the in-town dncrs have left or stopped. There are a a few strong core dncrs, but they're as far as 6 hours away. It's pretty much down to Eimaj, and she is sad. We brainstormed quickly since she had to go to work.... But both of us have shared a desire to make the dnce thing work - self-supporting, organized, regular.... Well-paid and consistant performances, committed and high-caliber dancing, a structured and well-promoted company. Creative perrogative in addition to traditional pieces. Symbiotic relationship between guru and students. Like Rdha and Krhna, (god and humanity) one can't exist without the other. The need each other. The feed each other. Like audience and performer.

Holy fuck. Its 6am... Gosh darn it....

Anyway, when Eimaj dropped me off at 830pm, The Guru happened to walk out to the driveway looking for her purse. The night air was filled with the smell of good cooking. That Guru CAN COOK! In one of my missing posts, i wrote at length about her tremendous talents in the kitchen. She cooks for hours every night. After the 5 dish Indian meal tonight, she spend ANOTHER hour hand grinding her spices and preparing a Raita for tomorrow. She is truly unreal. Apparently a visiting celebrity once offered her a position as his personal chef. She declined the kind offer and decided to stick with the Professor/Guru gig i guess - but she is that good. A media faculty on campus wants to make series of cooking videos with her and other's have pleaded with her to publish a book. (cookbook.) ...So, i plan on taking full advantage of my house guest priviledges and EAT IT UP while i'm here. Also, i plan to observe and even video her myself as much as possible.

Speaking of videoing her, while we were in her office today during her break between classes, i so wished i had set up my camera and let it roll she was talking. She spoke of all things odisi - giving fascinating anecdotes about the greatest dancrs of all time and dynamically punctuated her stories and descriptions and with explantation with demonstrations of the dance. It felt somehow important, and i focused as hard as i could to try to commit the nuances to memory. But, realistically, that's impossible. I wish it had been on tape. Or that i was making a documentary or something.

So, tomorrow i'll start my private lessons! I thought she wanted to wait, but she says she thinks i can do it. She wants to begin a dnc. I should be interesting considering i can barely walk.
I also found out today that this week we'll travel to neighbor state for a University lecture, give a workshop at ??i don't know where?, and... who knows what else...

Information is always circular with her. She circles around and adds information on each loop - like a spring or slinky. She used to say in her college lectures that that was an I ndian thing - reflective of a very different cultural relationship with time. "Relax and just listen," she used to say, "don't worry about taking notes." And through the years i've come to realize what she means. It's true, no need to worry, whatever it is, she'll inevitably get back to it again. And again. And again. And each time my understanding deepens and i can add pieces to my existing patchwork puzzle.

Dang, how'd it get so late......

I wonder what i just said? Just blabbing without order...... blah blah blah... stay tuned...

Goodnight...