i've been incubating...

... and now it's time to spill.

I'm utterly frustrated with myself and us and this THING we are doing, whatever it is. I thought we were all interested and I thought we were all going to go for it... but for some reason I'm not really believing it this time. Maybe it was the last visit; it seemed strange. I don't know if things have changed with anyone else, but I still want to attempt this.

I want to build a life around art, creation, and family.

But I'm terrified. I'm scared we're all going to get settled in our own lives and leave this to wither away. I don't want to get stuck in something I think I should be doing and never do what I've envisioned. Even if it fails. If it falls on it's ass, so what. At least we will have tried.

Though I'm not convinced we're even going to do that anymore. And it makes my stomach churn.

Talking the big talk is a bug I think we've caught. Please, please, somebody tell me I'm wrong.

Rowan Tree (Sensitivity) -- full of charm, cheerful, gifted without egoism, likes to draw attention, loves life, motion, unrest, and even
complications, is both dependent and independent, good taste, extremely generous, artistic, passionate, emotional, good company, does not forgive.

sometimes i'm amazed at how accurate these silly little astrological-type evaluations can be. good and bad, this is me.

no apologies.

we create a world of beauty where
people come to forget the horrors
or the dull drone of life

they sit down
wiggle down into the worn red velvet seats
glance down at the program
look at the nose picking plump guy in seat 3D
snortle, scratch their butts and
shoot the shit with the person in 6E

lights blink
on off on off
curtain opens
lights come up
music starts
gasp! they can't wait!
their reality is put on hold

they watch our bodies
enjoy our bodies
envy our bodies
want our bodies

we work for applause
we crave a standing ovation
praise
attention
from complete strangers...

so much of our self-worth comes from outside ourSELF

and when the curtain closes,
the audience files out,
and the dressing rooms empty,
all that remains is
a lonliness
an emptiness
an echo of a person,
a shell that exists larger than life

somewhere else

for all participants to fill out...

... and then the answers will be abstracted into movement phrases for each individual dancer in the show... and integrated into a montage for the intro leading into Beautiful by india.arie (played and sung live), which is to be another thread holding the whole thing together...

Beautiful looks like ____________

Beautiful tastes like ___________

Beautiful smells like ___________

Beautiful feels like ____________

Beautiful sounds like ___________

Beautiful is ____________________

my parents always told me i was beautiful
my gramps calls me cutie
my pops calls me sweetness
my mama looks at me, and in her eyes i feel like the. most. spectacular. flower.

yet i rarely believe

i look in that damn mirror and see a form not belonging to me
i see a face filled with doubt, veiled with desire
i see a body objectified as an ideal feminine form
but one that brings me uncertainty and shame
one that i've yet to embrace lovingly
calling it my own
urging it to live inside love and art

this body,
this form,
is to be the vehicle for my art.

but how can i create art that i love in a body i don't?

a dancer's tool is her body
it must be kept fit
strong limber trained beautiful

(but what equates beauty?)

the mirror reflects strength
but magnifies weakness

everytime she falls out of a pirouette
everytime her extension plateaus
everytime she grabs for the barre like a person drowning
gasping for air

everytime

the mirror is there
reminding her of those faults and failures
that prevent her dreams