2nd Generation Old School

The bass was so loud it made my nose tingle. I felt the deep thumping in my chest and contemplated whether at those decibals the vibrations could shift matter and if so, then why couldn't it fuck up the rythymn of a human heart? I pondered whether loudass Snoopdog ever initiated a heart attack before. Oh well, i consoled myself, at least we'll all go deaf together. It was sexy actually. The leather. The darkness. The intoxication of weed drenched air. More so even when passing cops failed to interrupt tokes, or generate even a passing concern. Maine pimpin in his black satin getup, gold watch, and fedora covered old school curl. Shell with her giant rolling laugh punctuating every statement.

I love them. It's hard to believe how the years have passed. They've come so far. Their babies are bigger than me now! I'll never forget visiting their sardine can of an apartment in Arizona - bodies and kids crashed out everywhere - the couch, the floor: the mighty Maine with babies in each of his arms - rocking one while feeding the other as Shell warmed the next bottle in the kitchen. Winter and i slept on the ground crammed between two beds, next to us his crazy detoxing Mother, next to his kids, next to his kids his siblings: I doing my best to ignore the snarling crazy lookin pitpulls making menacing eyes at me, hungrily clawing the screen door while staring me down.

It wasn't easy for them. It wasn't always cheerful. But they got through it. They're still together and going strong. They work hard. The have a nice home. They did the things. They made their fun along the way. The love their kids and each other. What more could you want?

I see them being together for a long, long time. I see them being old together. I see them spoiling and loving their grandkids. The kinda couple that commands respect. Badass oldschoolers that all the youngsters look up to for wisdom and lean on for direction.

I talked a long while with Shell tonight. About family. About life. About love. She is so incredible. She spoke to straight to my heart. It was a short time, but a gift to spend with her. I hope to get back in time tomorrow night to go out. My departure date is fast approaching.

Anyway, the performance was silly - but fine. It's good practice, it gets me back in the mode. I can't complain.We took a whole roll of film afterwards which made the 3 hours of getting in costume worth it. Even drove a few minutes to the falls for a better background. Kinda forgot that we'd be directly under a view front restaraunt - but we posed and clicked nonetheless, walking barefoot in the snail covered grass, and brushing the rain off our silk costumes. Then we stood in the parking lot, Eimaj an i, again falling back to the topic of joining forces and doing our thing: performing regularly, making our own gigs. Trying to make it at least a part time thing. She says she's not good at self promotion, and i can relate - but i told not her to think of it as ego - think of it as business - market yourself like any other product - be legit - get the website going and flyers- make a business card and pass it out at every performance you do now with links (since you're performing all the time now anyway for the guru) (for free)- place ads in local pulications - encourage word of mouth - offer promotion deals and wheel it in. You gotta put yourself out there to get the ball rolling. Start small, make yourself available, diversify venues, provide literature and it will snowball from there. That's my 2 cents anyway. Not that i know what i'm talking about or anything, but it sounds good, right? Can't hurt! Better than putting years and years into something and getting stuck. Losing money to entertain someone else? Screw that! At very LEAST her expenses should be paid for a performance - . I mean, it's a big production - not just the dance itself but also the 2-3 hours getting in that crazy getup, commuting time, gas, costume cleaning -not to mention the large investment in years of lessons, in purchasing the rights to the music when one song can be over $100, the costume and bells, trips to India, etc. And time. Of course time. Years and years of time. Anyway, that's all worth something, there's nothing wrong with getting paid.

Right?

Second Rate

I am the most sensitive person on earth.
Look at me funny and you might make me cry.
Tickle my fragile ego with a feather and it will burst.
Suggest i am nothing and that's what i become.
Vapid and empty.
Wretched and slight.
A vague mediocre shadow of what could have been.







PATHETIC!!!!!


I'm trying to get ready for my performance but i don't even care about it now, i am depressed. (Yes, a g a i n.) And always. (It seems.) Maybe i was born to be unhappy. Maybe i am doomed. Maybe it is just impossible to exist with paper thin skin. It would be so much simpler to just give up.

HOLY SHIT

Someone found my blog through a search engine with the name of the dance! EEEEEEEEKS!!!! That's bad! That's terrible! What am i going to do?!?!? It was a word that i had spaced out like t h i s, but apparently the spaces were not accounted for when they did the search! WHAT?! Should i go back and erase all dance related words completely, or do i simply erase those posts? And even if i erase all lof those posts, won't they still be in the Big Ominpotent Internet Brain Banks? OH NO!!!!! OH NO!!

And on further panic alerts:
Um. Is there some reason why no one pointed out as i was babbling on about "a whole other day to rehearse" that yesterday was in fact Thursday not WEDNESDAY as i had thought. Yes, TODAY is my performance. Terrific. Just lovely. Here i we go again?! Wah!

Spiritual Eroticism

This dance makes me feel pretty. Feminine. Alluring again. At first it felt silly. Awkward. Like i was pretending to be something i wasn't. The seductive upward and downward glances made me self conscious. The emphasis on the slow torso moves felt naughty - like i was drawing illicit attention to my breasts. The deep outward bending of the knees left me feeling open and exposed. It was like starting all over again - i was an alien and having to reaquaint my body with another language. But my body remembers now. It's channeling an energy that is connected to the ground. It's moving and emoting with a different, more spiritual flow.

Random Act of Kindness

This doesn't happen every day.

I purchased 4 items on the way back to the Guru's house at the grocery store this afternoon: a bag of veggies, a container of pineapple, wheat thins and a pack of gum. I paid and headed for the door when i heard urgently raised voices from behind me - "MISS! MISS!" I did a mental scan: did i forget my purse? No. My bankcard? No. My food? No. Well then, surely they're not talking to me. "MISS! MISS!" I slowed and turned my head. The cashier and her customers were staring at me. What the?

"YOU FORGOT YOUR GUM!"

I almost laughed. Silly people. It's just gum! Relax! It's okay! I'll live! "That's okay," i said, "no big deal." and tried to walk away - but they were so concerned about the welfare of my missing item - they wouldn't let it go! The customer spoke inaudibly to the cashier and then motioned to the gum. She paid for it! The complete and total stranger paid 99 cents for my gum! A total stranger!! For me!! And gave it to me.

Can you believe that?

Can you believe that?!

Isn't that the nicest person ever?

Isn't that cool?!

Astonished, i pulled a dollar out of my pocket and tried to give it to her. She protested profusely. She didn't want it but i insisted. What a humbling moment. There are still nice people. There are people who are good.

Aspirin?

All alone, I'm in the living room sorting her papers and watching awesome footage of world renown dancers from her trips to I n d i a. She won't return from her conference until Saturday and although i'm dissapointed to lose lesson time, i'm glad for the quiet respite. I like people, but i also like to be alone. After a brief visit to the gregarious Miss D on the way back from the airport, i came home and napped hoping to assuage a pounding head. I meant to rehearse today so to avoid a repeat of last Friday's abysmal performance, but somehow i felt too drained. Maybe later tonight i'll run through it on the carpet and there's always tomorrow left as well.

Unexpected Pull

I've discovered how much i miss it here; this place, being on campus, having friends. The dancers and my second family are pleading with me to stay. I'm feeling loved. My Auntie Evelyn may be dying and needs someone to help take care of her. My parents seem to miss me and want me around. But i just moved to NY with The Cutie and am about to make a place there! Oh my.

Maybe that's the advantage of leaving and coming back: for a moment you're treated royally, like a superstar. But i bet when you're back for good the luster fades and you're back to a run-of-the-mill Miss Ordinary. Maybe that goes for my perception of the environment here too. You know how after you've been somewhere for an extended period of time, regardless of it's beauty how you begin to stop seeing it? How it ceases to exist? Like people: how we stop appreciating and noticing each other after constant interaction through time: how we forget to note how much we care. Is it possible to not take each other for granted? Can we stay present and freshly relate after years?

Can i afford this??????????

Costume
Practice Sari(s)
Practice Outif
White Metal Jewlery (Complete Costume Set)
Real Silver Head Ornament
Real Silver Bun Ornament
Bun Crown
Real Silver Rings (6)
Red dye for fingers and feet
B e l l s
Red Polish/Waterproof Foundation/White pencil/jewlery case/safety pins/bobby pins/water bottle/disposable camera

Books:
The GG (a religous text that the dance is based about a love affair between a good and mortal woman)
The NS (the 2000 year old dance treatise)

Music & Videos
3 blank video tapes
5 blank audio tapes
1 blank CD
photocopies of B.N.book

Lessons:
Private (10-12?) and Group (1 mth)

Postcards/Coffee-teas/plants & fountain present for Guru/

Holy shit. What am i doing? Do i need this or not? Is this an opportunity or am i getting carried away? Am i being greedy? Want-y? Or practical with measured consideration. Who knows when/if ever i'll go to I n d i a and be able to get this stuff myself? So, yes it's more expensive to buy from the Guru, but so is an overseas plane ticket to get the stuff on my own and/or shipping.

But will it be a waste? Will i really use it all? Well, i need to ask myself, am i really going to dance? Can i continue on my own? Am i going to peter out? Will i be able to maintain discipline and routines without support? Will these goodies collect dust in a closet or will they put to immediate and regular use?

Will i pursue this dream, or won't i?

I don't want to go home broke. But I don't want to pass up opportunities because of doubt.

Arg!

I absolutely hate to spend money!

Stupid Knees

are still sore after many days. After being exposed to knee horror stories for countless years, this is freaking me out. The discomfort or pain doesn't bother me: the prospect of being unable to dance does! Especially now that i've finally fully committed myself to putting everything into this. Making it a prominent part of my life. I think it's the right time and and i think i can do it. It will take time and hard work and discipline, but i think i can make something of it. So the dilemna is, do i baby something that may be a completely innocuous body groan and miss out on getting the most of my time during this short time with the Guru? Or do i lay off finishing this new (beautiful) dance for fear of a future injury that may or may not exist?

Help me here!

Unabridged

Ever feel like you're somone's scratching post? A swirling q-tip in their ear? Used as an appendage without having agreed to attach? The repetitive torrent of verbal vomit steamrolls over me. It compacts me into clausterphobic bits.

Sad

I just saw him read me and say nothing. Not even a peep. He is mad at me and i feel misunderstood. Its so hard to tolerate these feelings. I feel like being swooped up and carried to a land of blankness and numbing happy-gas air. (Since i try not to use food anymore instead.) Make it go away! i do not like to feel this sad.

My Favorite Word In The World

"Optonline.net"

It means he's near by.

In One Breath

she tells me i was both the choosen one and a failure. She's tell me the performance was acceptable and awful. She tells me i am uniquely talented and have lost my beauty. We plan together for a collective vision, while she mercilessly needles me about my faults. In one breath she tells me i can work hard, do well, probably won't succeed, and could be world-class.

The Guru pats you on the back with one hand while slapping you across the face with the other.

It's crazymaking.

It's who she is.

Like many things, if you want to last, you must simply learn to adapt. To dance under her you must accept her for who she is while simultaneously trying to salvage your tattered feelings and hold-on to any remnants of pride. She has no idea of the wearisome wake of havoc she spreads behind her, leaving heavyhearted students and victims of misinformed dreams. Out of hundreds there are but a handful of us left. To dance under her you must learn to forgive. It is not only an exercise in becoming a dancer, but also a better, stronger more loving person.

Asi Asi

I berated myself horribly. I don't care how beautiful people said it was, i knew the truth. It was horrible. Horrific. Horrendous. Horsepuckey.

Humliating.

But they "loved it" just the same, so what does it matter? Maybe it shouldn't but it does. I was afraid to go "home" for fear of facing the Guru. The shame.

Boy was i in for a surprise.

She grinned and congratulated me. She said the Mr. called from his trip and said to make sure i knew he was proud of me. Apparently she's arranged another performance for this Friday, and she's not worried. It's experience. And i have to get back in the swing of things. Afterall it's been six years. She said in 2 years she thinks i could become world class (if i work hard.) That's quite a vote of confidance which i doubt i'm worthy of. But despite my skepticism i am touched. She/he/this means alot to me. It's an honor being here.

Nostalgia

Well guess what? I'm performing today. Just a tiny podunk venue, but nonetheless it's a fun flash from the past. And my Godaughter is coming with her mother! Yay! Exciting! (They've never seen me dance.) Afterwards we'll browse the Artwalk and hang for a bit. Since it takes between 2 and 3 hours to get in full costume, i've already gotten started. Done the hair and reddened up the nails. Next will come makeup, jewlrey (2 necklaces, arm bands, bracelets, rings, large metallic belt, hair crown, bun knot jewlrey, hair flowers), the 4 piece costume, finger/hand/feet paintings and last but not least, ankle bells! Phew! I've been running around all day gathering supplies: bobby pins, safety pins, rubberbands, hair bun loop, etc.... Ironing the crazy intricate silk pants alone took 15 minutes? Alot of work just for one dance!

City Class

Revisiting Another Life

I surprised Miss D and Winter yesterday. They screamed and yelled and hugged me again and again. My Goddaughter curled herself onto my lap. It's been nice, but also a terribly peculiar adjustment: suddenly introjecting myself into the ghetto past. Weed and bitches. Mother fucking everything and watching your back. I was so at home? Within a day my speaking style and language changes.

More reflections soon - but for now i must nap. Another night of clubbing and then back to 4 hours of dancing in the city class. I'll drive the Mr. to the airport at noon. (!)

Packing Up

The folks have left and i soon will be on my way. It's me and the house and the wind. "Choco" came to say goodbye?

I've seen an eagle, wild bunnies, whales, seagulls, birds, baby jumping salmon, boats, strawberry farms, tulips, cows, school teachers, 1st graders, artist studios, coffee shops, bistros, a local play, a movie "Sahara", ferries, driftwood, rocks, hermit crabs, snow capped mountains, forests, friendly neighbors, the rental house, 1st grade kiddies, a fluffy persian cat, state parks, and last but not least clams. Though i still need to escape.

On her way to work, Mom warmly tore me into jagged guilt-ridden shreds. She packed her lunch and teased "you're making me think you don't like me. You come when i work and leave when i don't."
"What?!" Startled, i exclaimed.
"You know, by way of inference."
She warmly dismissed her "joking" kindly, "no, do what you want," but nonetheless destroyed me. I can't bear the thought of hurting her. She's so selfless and obliging: was that her way of asking me to stay?

She pulls me here while he pushes me away.

Run Away

Tomorrow morning. I will go. I need rest. I need to rest.

Smolder

I feel a rumbling inside
a caustic froth of malcontent
stewing, i ferment
latent squalls
voiceless distress