First Full Day

I am glad that I waited until I'd had a good night's sleep to write this posting, so my mind would have time to absorb all of the wonderful experiences from my first full day at residency. Yesterday was indeed full...full of ritual, workshop, lecture, writing exercises and other such artistic activity.

"No one outside ourselves can rule us inwardly. When we know this, we become free." I received this quote in a plastic Easter egg during a graduating student presentation, which was based on the concept of identity in the past, present, future and after death. I think about this statement as I reflect on my artistic process, and my motives for making art. I have a conversation with some of my class mates about how the outside world; people, circumstances, etc., can rule our perception of our own art, if we let it. And that if we know within ourselves that our artwork is coming from an honest place, that we feel genuinely connected to, who is to judge if it is "good," or "professional," or otherwise? We agree that to keep a level head in the face of artistic adversity, we must continue to make our own opportunities, and continue to show up when outside opportunities present themselves, with open minds and willing flexibility.

During another graduating student presentation, I am inspired by beautiful, soft, flowing photography printed on pieces of silk and cotton. Richard is a photographer, with a vision impairment. He sees things very differently than we see them, thus his photographs reflect these differences. His art practice is a culmination of a few things: The improvement of his vision through natural means, quantum physics, and of course, photography. He calls the amalgamation of these parts Quantum Seeing. He takes us through a series of exercises by which he explains the concept of Quantum Seeing in a way we can all experience it. He then goes on the describe the photographs he has exhibited in the space, which are of both inanimate objects and people. His photographs are exquisite examples of attention to light and texture as he sees it. There are large in size, with soft halos around many of the subjects, and there is satisfying negative space and deep shadow. The fabric is so light, that it is constantly moving, which seems to bring these graceful images to life.

Later in the day, we are split into our advising groups. My adviser is Petra for this term. She is a fascinating woman, who has traveled the world, makes many forms of art and has written numerous books concerning artistic practice. She is very much invested in ritual, and we begin our time together as a group with just that. We walk silently toward the ocean, picking up on the way, one object that represents something we fear and one object that represents a source of joy for us. I pick up a dead leaf, which represents cessation of all things I hold dear, and a new seedling, which represents growth and love. Each of us offers the group these things in turn. Then she introduces us to the practice of Whakapapa, a form of introduction which originated in New Zealand. To introduce yourself in the tradition of Whakapapa, one is to tell the person or people they are meeting what their river is, what their mountain is and who their people are. I decided that my river is a river of passion. It is warm, fast moving and full of vibrant, colorful creatures. I decided that my father is my mountain. He has protected me from bad weather, and given me solid ground to stand on. He is at times hard to understand, but at his summit is a broad view of the world. And I decided that my people are those who seek passion, like myself.

One of the evening's activities included a workshop entitled, "Appropriate Gift." During the workshop, we explored the creative process, and how "the gift of creativity obliges us to act." Ju-Pong Lin, who presented the workshop, provided resources in the form of passages from books, group discussion and writing exercises. We all wrote a poem depicting the journey of our lives using the word, "waiting." A stanza from my poem went,

"I couldn't wait
to breathe
to hear
to kick my legs
and see with my eyes
So I came one month early"

And the poem goes on this way, stating all of the things I couldn't wait for, and in typical Cara fashion, I didn't.

Off for more!

~Cara

The Long Journey to Port Townsend

Early yesterday morning, I embarked on the long journey to Goddard College. And a long journey it is: At 3:30am I wake up to go the the Greensboro airport to catch a 6:25am flight to Washington, DC. The flight is cramped, and my knees immediately begin to give me feedback, and an indication of what is to come for the rest of the day's travels. I have a short layover in DC and catch my connecting flight to Seattle, a five and a half hour leg. While on the plane, I try to sleep, but am unsuccessful. Resentful of my circumstances, I give in to watching the in-flight entertainment, a mix of sitcoms and nature documentaries. I notice across from me a young couple, with a newborn on the mother's lap. The baby is precious, and he is perfect in every way. He has perfect cheeks, fingers and nose. He is quiet for most of the flight. However when he does cry, I do not mind. I am so proud that he fared as well as he did, being so tiny. As we move through the sky toward our destination, I keep looking over at him, in awe of this little miracle. I can see how happy his parents are to have him. They cuddle him and play with him and give him kisses.

Forty-five minutes early, my plane touches down at Sea-Tac airport. I am happy to get off of the plane and stretch my legs. Once in the terminal, I get a call from my Goddard friend, Laura. Her plane has arrived early, as well, and we agree to meet for lunch. Laura and I greet each other with a joyful embrace, looking each other up and down after having not seen one another for six months. Laura is a gorgeous creature. Tall and statuesque, she has dark hair, big brown eyes and a flawless complexion with a delightful smattering of freckles! Over lunch, we talk about what has happened to us in the space between semester residencies and Laura tells me she has met someone. I instantly notice the color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye, and I am thrilled for her. We continue to speak about art projects and our expectations for the semester, when Laura gets a call from Stephanie, another Goddard friend.

We meet Stephanie at the baggage claim. Stephanie is a fifty-something California girl who seems to always have the sea breeze in her hair. She is graceful and fun, colorful and energetic and has eyes that twinkle every time she smiles. Stacy is with her, a remarkable being with a child like energy, but who's eyes look like those of someone ancient and wise. I think she is an old soul. Natalie joins us, a beautiful artist with a quiet manner about her and flare for fashion. Her Chunky glasses, cute frock and clogs hang perfectly on her slender frame. A few minutes later, Alessandra joins us, a strong minded Italian woman, with a flippy bob hairdo, sharp features and a direct way of speaking. Joy sits beside us and we all begin to giggle. Joy is a bubbly performer with a sing-song voice and an infectious laugh. She tells us stories of funny and wierd happenings in her home town of Las Vegas. And finally, Ellen arrives. A whimsical woman full of beautiful images. She is short, with pretty salt and pepper hair and an immediate energy.

Once we have all caught up and enjoyed each others company, Stephanie, myself, Laura, Alessandra, Natalie and Ellen head to our rental van. We drive through the city of Seattle. It is rainy outside and very gray. There are people on every street corner with umbrellas and rain boots, waiting to cross the busy streets. There are construction workers with bright orange vests that pop against the dreary skies. And there are galleries, coffee shops, clothing boutiques and bookstores that had I the time to, I would venture through each of their doors. Quickly, we arrive at the ferry dock to cross the sound. The ride on the boat is relaxing. The gentle sway of the vessel is calming to me and we all continue to speak about what we are interested in and how we are fascinated with all of the varied projects that each of us has completed this past semester.

The last leg of the journey, we all loose a little steam. The initial excitement of arriving into town has faded, and we admit that we are tired. Arriving in Port Townsend at 5:50, we make check in ten minutes before it closes and go to dinner. There we see more beautiful Goddard friends and Goddard faculty, and the excitement in us returns. After dinner, we attend a casual opening reception, where Ellen, Laura and I find time to discuss the workshop we will be giving later in the week. By 9 o'clock, Laura and I are in our dorm, listening to music and chatting. Both of us being from the east coast, we are battling sleep so we can reset our bodies' clocks. I loose. At 9:40pm, I am in my bed, dozing off...

~Cara

Euphoria...Signs of Spring...

For what ever reason, though this day began as a drag, I am now as happy as could be...even euphoric! I noticed the shift in my mood when I looked out my window and realized that the days are lengthening. I decided to take a ballet class with one of my former teachers from UNC School of the Arts this evening, and driving to the studio at 5:50, it was still bright and buttery in the sky. I love the colors of early evening, when the sun is preparing to descend into another hemisphere. I am reminded of Spring close at hand, the flowers blooming and my soul joyfully with them!

In class, I remembered why I was drawn to begin ballet as a child: the elegant carriage of the neck and shoulders, the precise lines through the spine and limbs and the quiet, but powerful use of space around, above and below. It has been many, many months since my last ballet class, and four years since I have done ballet consistently. However, I am surprised that my body always remembers what to do. I felt a little out of sorts during the barre work, and during the adagio. My pirouettes were inconsistent, but when we began our large, moving combinations, my body responded with breath and a hunger for the space around it! Driving home, I felt much the way I always do having finished a dance practice; relaxed, content and full of subtly dynamic energy.

I am home now, resting before my departure tomorrow. This post hasn't got much to it, but that is because there will be so much to write about in the coming week, I thought I should take it easy this evening! Tomorrow, I will be reporting to you from Port Townsend, WA!

~Cara

Gettin' Ready

Climbing into bed to wind down later than anticipated, I at least feel accomplished, as I am all packed to leave for Port Townsend, WA on Friday morning for eight days of artistic over-stimulation. As I think I have mentioned before, I am enrolled in the MFA program for Interdisciplinary Arts at Goddard College, a low-residency program for working artists. This coming semester will be my second of five, and I can honestly say, given the prodigious amount of work I produced last semester, I have no idea where to begin my studies this semester. I almost have too many options...how often does one get to say that?!

One of my options includes my continued study of the art of storytelling. I have explored this medium physically, on film, in writing and in its traditional form; orally. I could work to expand my historical understanding of this art form, and how it applies to me culturally, as an African American. And I could continue to explore various ways to present storytelling in contemporary art practices.

Another option is to focus on my physical practice. I have talked before about my solitary dance studio practice, which has been evolving over the past few years. I only realize now, that perhaps I could work towards sharing some of these practices, and their subsequent discoveries with other movers and "non-movers." I have been working with the concept of micro-movement, which was at first, in response to a series of small injuries. I wanted to know why I was hurting, and what habits I had fallen into to create the pain. Through micro-movement, I successfully relieved the consistent pain in my left hip. And just today, I finally found out how to stack my bones in a way that makes the use of my abdominal muscles more efficient. I have also been working with breath...movement initiated and informed by breath, and stamina marked by efficient breathing. Athletes are of course taught how to do this, but for some reason, very few dance teachers talk about efficient use of breath. Lastly, I have been working with impulse and what I like to call, "Unadulterated Groove Time," as a legitimate part of an integrated technical dance practice.

Yet another option for study is further exploration into aspects of producing and directing films, both narrative and documentary. I have made one of each this past semester, and plan to start at least one more this semester. I feel like this past semester's work has been great practice for what is to come next. I made some awesome mistakes, technically, but also made some wonderful discoveries and some lovely aesthetic choices in my projects.

Lastly, I have my writing. I have been writing a lot of poetry over the past few months, but only now as I look back at the collection I have written, do I see a pattern emerging. My soul wants to write about childhood. I think I want to continue with this, and see what emerges from a whole collection of poetry based on the premise of childhood experiences, memories and wonderings. I want to see how the concept of childhood has worked its way into my performance work and film work. I have always considered myself to be a whimiscal person, as do many of my friends and family, and perhaps my tendency to look at the world and my art with a slightly child-like view is what makes my work unique.

Perhaps, if I can be clever, I can continue all of these explorations and be one step closer to having a truly interdisciplinary art practice which yields diverse repertoire, accessible to many.

It is late. I have to teach tomorrow morning. Lights out!

~Cara

Being of Service:

Before sitting on my couch to write this post, I stopped at Krispy Kreme on my way home, because the "HOT" sign was on. As I approached the second window at the drive through, a woman greeted me warmly, and I wondered, "is there art in serving doughnuts?" And I immediately answered, "yes, yes there is!" This woman took my order, tendered my payment and gave me my doughnuts. Because of her, I have had a sensory experience. I heard the cheerful cadence of her voice. I observed the vibrant red of her company shirt and hat. I smelled the sugary aroma of the doughnuts as she handed them to me. This was an interdisciplinary presentation.

I then wonder, as an artist, how have I been of service? Have I affected anyone the way that those in obvious positions of service have? I have been told on more than one occasion that art making is both indulgent and selfish. And often, I have both hoped that I am not a selfish person and wondered how true that sentiment actually is....

If I teach a dance class to a group of young women, and one young woman tells me that my class is helping her to change her body and her feelings toward her body, is it possible that I am being of service? If I show a student in yoga how to release her shoulders so that her day at the computer feels a little better, have I been helpful to her? If I make a dance piece that communicates the stories of real people to other real people, demonstrating that we are not so different from each other, or make a film that might help those dealing with loss to do so constructively, have I been of service?

I think there exists both kinds of art: the kind that is indulgent and only meant for the enjoyment of the maker, and the kind that is inherently service oriented, as it is meant for the enjoyment of others. When one presents art for the enjoyment of others, one has been of service. Even if that piece of art does nothing else but provide enjoyment or provocation of thought. I think one of the things that makes creating art enjoyable for me, is the thought that it may in some way, help another human being. I have many times taken interest in community service activities, but I find that art is the place where I feel I can do the most good. I know many artists that would agree. And though I continue to be active in my community in other ways than making and sharing art, I always find the act of creating to be the most fulfilling. And on occasion, people even say thank you!

Now an aside, I have just been mesmerized by Marai Nagasu in the woman's olympic figure skating short program! Beautiful carriage of the upper torso, dizzying spins and long, sustained lines with clear directions...

Have you made any art today?

~Cara

After a Lovely Day:

I did not post a blog yesterday, because I was lucky enough to enjoy an unexpected day off! Yesterday afternoon, I was to host a yoga workshop on the mechanics of balance in Hillsborough. However, it was canceled at the last minute late Saturday afternoon. In lieu of conducting the workshop, I stayed in bed until ten o'clock. I got up and enjoyed my breakfast and sipped my Earl Gray tea slowly. Robert and I enjoyed a movie, A Serious Man, by the Cohen Brothers. We then walked through the park, as it was a beautiful day, with the sun out and a light breeze. We ate burritos and ventured downtown, where we ran into a friend, who works at one of the coffee shops there. We walked across the street to enjoy ice cream, and we went home. Shoes off, jammies on, we cuddled until late evening, watching Wedding Sunday on WE TV, and ended the night with a tiny jam session...me on the bass, Rob on the mandolin. I couldn't have asked for a better day! A perfect start to a busy week!

This rainy Monday morning, I begin with a 9am yoga class. In addition to the rest of the students in attendance, I am happy to see my friends Susan and Steve. They are two accomplished practitioners, who have encouraged and influenced me on my own yoga journey these past few years. We begin by breathing slowly, and becoming quiet, so we can hear the rain softly strike the windows in an irregular rhythm. We then slowly move into our bodies, by moving with the breath: Inhale, lift the arms over head, Exhale, slowly stretch forward...we move in just this fashion for a whole hour or so, and after savasana, we end our practice with a sustained chanting of one OM.

After the class, I head to the studio for my dance practice. I diligently work through my "rudiments," as I call them. I begin with the back series, then move into exercises for the feet, hips and legs. I place one leg at a time on the barre and practice a series of micro-movement exercises, isolating individually various muscle groups and lifting my limbs slowly in response. I practice extensions and large movements. I jump a little and end with abdominal work and slow stretching. I leave feeling open in my joints and lungs.

My afternoon interning at the River Run Film Festival is uneventful. The rain seems to have infiltrated the minds of every one of the staff. They are all droopy eyed and talking of wishes for more comfort food and less spread sheets. At 4pm, I pack up my laptop and head home for a light lunch-dinner before my 6pm yoga class.

The 6pm yoga class has a completely different vibe than the morning's class. All the students have just come from work and rush in at the last minute, then proceed to yawn as they realize their fatigue from the day's work. I am getting tired, too. I muster all of my energy to remain spirited through the last twenty minutes of class. After class is over, I stop at Whole Foods to buy my second dinner, because I can. Scalloped potatoes, collard greens, rice and tempeh. Chocolate covered cheese cake bites for dessert. This evening I will finish an application or two, and prepare for tomorrow's adventures.

Cake Boss is on soon!

~Cara

A Productive Day, Indeed!

This afternoon, as I drive home from my final rehearsal with the Dance Visions Repertory Company at NSCU, I allow myself to listen to the radio. I often do not listen to the radio while driving in the car, as it makes it difficult for me to focus on that task that awaits me at my destination. But I felt this casual enjoyment of music was warranted, as we successfully completed the piece for the spring show today, with time to spare at the end of rehearsal! I happily reflect on the previous hours' events as I bop my head and mouth the lyrics to rock music from decades past: "It's more than a feelin'....." and "you didn't have to love me, but you did, but you did, but you did..."

The ladies worked with determination and enthusiasm today, quickly learning new phrase work and being receptive to corrections. I am again feeling jovial, and we joke, laugh and make small talk during our process. The piece has turned out well, I think, and I am confident that the ladies will do what is needed to continue to polish the material during the month before our pick-up rehearsal. When rehearsal is over, the general mood in the studio is both satisfaction and relief. The ladies begin to chat, sip coffee, and comment on what a nice day it is outside. We say our goodbyes, and they assure me that they will carry on the detailed cleaning on the piece that is now theirs. I am sad at the fact that I will not be able to watch the ladies perform the piece in April, as the date has been changed, and I will be out of town. I can only wish them luck, and promise to be there in spirit.

I feel relaxed now, as I always do when I have finished a task that is pressing. One more thing checked off of the master list. Of course, the funny thing about my list is, that when one item has been crossed off, there is immediately something there to replace it!

~Cara

Success...what?

What is success really? For the past few years, I have been hard at work beginning what in my mind, is to be an "illustrious" career in the arts. I have given of my time and person freely for the sake of exposure. I have repeatedly diminished my finances to complete unfunded or partially funded projects and travel to be where I can show the fruits of my labor. I have spent many nights awake finishing up proposals and press kits, to leave the house in the morning to commute sometimes, up to two hours away to teach. At my fullest schedule, I have taught sixteen various classes a week in dance and yoga. I have enrolled myself in educational programs of different disciplines so that I may continue to gain new and valuable skills. I have put off time with friends and family, even postponing, a whopping three times, a first vacation with my boyfriend after three years of being together....He patiently put off his proposal until I finally buckled, and allowed him to drive me to the beach for two days! I'm glad I finally agreed to go, or else we might never have gotten engaged!

I am not complaining, because I have loved, for one reason or another, each experience or obstacle that has come into my art life. I have loved them even if at the time, I have entertained the notion of quitting. However, I have often pondered to myself what my life could be like if I could "turn off the switch," in other words, my impulse to create. What if the highlight of my week was hitting the bar with the girls? What if I considered buying the newest pair of Jimmy Choo's a rush? What if a quiet evening at home included watching Glee (which, by the way, I have still not seen) and American Idol? Many of my peers who do not do art, ask me why I put so much time into a series of activities that is clearly never going to make me rich, famous, or powerful. Part of me needs to create to feed the compulsion within me that makes loud chatter at night and keeps my head in the clouds as I walk through everyday activities. I am compelled to hear music, notice color and shape, observe movement and feel energy. Another part of me wants to show everyone that this compulsion has a place in the world and that I can harness this drive to make beauty and more over, a legitimate living.

As I progress through my process of submitting applications for festivals and teaching opportunities, making plans for upcoming projects and pinning down the calendar for the next year, I am constantly thinking of how I will achieve "the next best thing." That "thing" is what will bring me one step closer to being successful in some way: Creating greater beauty than I have ever created before, gaining recognition for my work, or coming to a place in my life where money is not such a concern. And I realize that this worrying has made me tired. I want a gallon of ice cream, and a couch to eat it on!

That being said, I have decided that though I am not one to rest on my laurels, I must remember to stand back and acknowledge the strides I have made since I began my art journey. I should appreciate the process and remember that I have my whole life to make art. Again and again, I am reminded that things come into my life just when I need them to, and if something has not come to pass, it is because I was not ready, not because I am not good enough. It is funny how once I think I have completely missed out on an opportunity forever, without warning, the opportunity arises once more, and I am all the more ready to fully engage in that experience. I love being an artist. I wouldn't give it up for the world. Only sometimes, it is difficult to separate what my soul wants for my art and what society says I should want for my art. As I move into the coming months, which will be extremely busy, I will remember to do what is now in writing: I will remember to take breaks, appreciate my own efforts, and not feel unproductive if I do take the time to indulge in a new pair of peep-toes and a sundae from Cold Stone!

My fiancee will be proud of me!

~Cara

A Poem...

I wrote this one a few months ago after spending an inspiring afternoon with my mother full of subtle moments of wonder. My mother is one of the biggest influences in my life. She is my encouragement and my role model...

"Excuse me," she says
And at once, I catch a glimpse
Of the timid young girl my mother
Used to be
Moving cautiously through the crowd
So as not to upset our pretzels and straws
I look back to see that she is close behind me
And I place our sweaty lemonade cups on a table
That looks cleaner than the others
We watch children on the merry-go-round
And children wandering about with wide eyes

My mother says, "it's sweet," referring to the way
In which small children absorb the world around them,
Each activity a first experience
She tells me about myself as a child:
Fastidious, and at 15 months, already showing signs
Of compulsive behavior
As she describes our lives together as younger people
I observe in the depths of her eyes
A lucid memory and a wish
That she might return briefly to a time when
We inspired awe in one another
Because of all the things we had
Yet to learn about each other

The years spent on this earth
Have made my mother astute
And self-assured
And I think back to a conversation
Had in the car earlier today
When she said, "I used to wear my emotions on my sleeve"
And I realize that her transformation
From timid girl to wiser woman
Was for me.

Driving home in the car
My hands still smell of cinnamon

I am enamored.

More poems to come later...

~Cara

flexibility 101...

If there is one thing I have learned being an artist, it is that one must always be flexible! You can never get too attached to your ideas, or else, you will be many times disappointed and unprepared to welcome new circumstances and opportunities for learning into your sphere of being.

I am reminded of this today in two situations...

Today Brett and I continue to edit towards a satisfactory draft of our documentary, Art For The Living. As I have mentioned in entries past, the ending has been sending us for a loop. As it turns out, there are not a lot of usable shots and it has been difficult deciding just what to keep and what to let go of. As the editing process goes on, we both have ideas about how the cuts should be made. On occasion, we misunderstand each other, and become frustrated. Brett plays devil's advocate at times, and at other times, he calls upon his expertise behind the camera and on the editing table to help me see the best solution to the moment's problems. Though it is not my nature, I must constantly remind myself to relinquish some control, so that we may truly collaborate on the project. And when I do, I am open to solutions I may not have understood otherwise. Today we finally make it to the end! There is still a lot of work to be done, but the general structure of the film has been achieved.

Second on the list today was my rehearsal at NSCU. There are new faces that were not at yesterday's rehearsal, and some arrive late again today. I have been informed that I will have one less day to prepare the piece than I had originally expected. What's more, at Saturday's rehearsal, our final rehearsal, two girls will be an hour and a half late, one must leave two hours early and one cannot come at all. That is half the cast! Today, I make a determined push towards finishing a good deal of the piece. As I work through some of what has been rattling around in my head concerning the piece, I discover that some of it does not work in real life, and that some of it is just anticlimactic. As I look forward to Saturday's rehearsal, I have already begun to plan how I will deal with choreographing a piece for more bodies than I have to work with, and how I will change some of the phrase work I have added today to make the piece more dynamic in certain places. I am also taking many mental notes as to what the abilities of each member of the company are, so I can continue to create material that is appropriate to everyone's level of experience. Certainly not the situation I had expected to walk into upon accepting this gig! However, I aim to keep a cool head, and allow myself to continue to walk through my artistic process, even if it is being somewhat squished.

~Cara

Happy Day!

My good day begins at IHOP with the $2.99 weekday special. With full belly, I stop home to gather all the things I will need for the day: iPod, iPod dock, notebook, laptop, a change of clothes, DVD's of performance and film work, press materials, water bottle, purse. I pile everything into the car and drive to High Point to teach the day's dance classes.

After my experience with the girls yesterday evening at NCSU, I decide to teach my students at HPU the same phrase I taught during yesterday's rehearsal. It is a round, sweeping combination on 6/8 time with accents falling on the 1 and 4 of each musical phrase. I watch the students glide through the space, ebbing and flowing like waves on the ocean. I feel my head moving smoothly this way, then that way, atop my shoulders, mimicking the paths the students take as they progress through the movement. I am pleased with how this movement is settling into the dancer's bodies, beginners and experienced dancers alike, so I have decided to move forward with this material, possibly to use for the students' final showing at the end of the term.

Upon completing the day's classes at HPU, I make my way to Wake Forest University. There, I have been asked to lecture at an Arts Entrepreneurship class by Jan, who is the professor for the class, and the woman on whom I am completing a documentary about art and grief. The class is small, but attentive and interested in what I have to share about being industrious in the art world. I tell them to be open to new experiences and fearless about "going out on a limb." I tell them not to limit themselves by what mediums they have trained in during school, but to invite new interests into their spheres of making and doing. I show some work samples, which are well received, and answer enthusiastic questions about each. I tell all about how my experience in the art world has been so different than I would have ever imagined it when I was in school, and how many exciting surprises I have encountered because of that. I hope that if nothing else, I have instilled in the students that there is no right way to engage in art, only the ways that are honest for the individual.

Tomorrow, there is more editing of the documentary to be done and more rehearsing at NCSU!

NCSU A Success!

At 3pm today, I turned on my GPS, whom I call "Misty," and took off for Raleigh. The drive went well, with no real mishaps, only the usual maniac weaving speed demons who grace the stretch of I-40 between Burlington and Raleigh. I arrive at NCSU about 45 minutes early, as I recognize my knack for getting lost, despite clear directions breezily articulated by Misty: "Turn left, then go straight on." "At the end of the road, turn right." In 500 yards, you have reached your destination." I wander around looking for a parking spot my car can occupy without getting a ticket. There seem to be none. After twenty minutes, my patience wears thin and I park in a faculty spot, and hope for the best.

The Carmichael Gymnasium, where the rehearsal is to be held is absolutely huge...three floors, a track, a pool, too many work out rooms of various kinds to count. The minute I walk in, I am knocked sideways by the stench of sweaty armpit. Groups of young men walk by like roosters, loud and puffing out their chests for everyone to see. Groups of young women walk by too, chattering on about flat stomachs and loathsome English papers. I ask no less than three people to point me in the direction of the dance studio. When I walk in, I am surprised by how large the room is. I am happy it is not a closet, as so many dance studios are.

Our rehearsal gets off to a shakey start, as only two of the eight ladies show up on time. The others are between five and fifteen minutes late! I have come in with no plan, as I have not seen the ladies. We do a technique class, to begin. The class is a mix, but there is not nearly as much disparity between technical ability among the girls as I had expected. They work hard, and seem to want to make the corrections I give them. During our leg work I say "I can tell your hearts are in it! That makes me happy!" The girls smile and giggle. We are having a good time. I make jokes, none of them flop (highly unusual!), and by the end of the technique class, everyone has worked up a good sweat. After water, we move into the phrase work for the piece. I use my judgment from what I have seen in the class, and begin to construct a phrase for the girls to learn. The pick up quickly, and I add on. We finish our phrase work for the day with half an hour left of rehearsal. the ladies have worked hard, they look spent, so I dismiss them. On the drive home, I contemplate our next rehearsal.

~Cara

Monday, Monday....

This morning I wake up knowing that this week is going to be a long one. The most prominent feature of my week is the time I will be spending at the North Carolina State University in Raleigh, working to set a piece on the Dance Visions Repertory Company. DVRC is one of the school's two student dance companies, and of the two, this one is more geared toward dance through an Afrocentric perspective. I have been asked to set a modern dance piece, to expose the girls to new movement vocabulary. From what the director of the company tells me, many of the girls have not had much modern dance experience, but are eager learners. I am quite happy with this situation, as it is always fun for me to introduce new ways of moving to enthusiastic students! I just love the way you can see their bodies and minds thinking and problem solving in tandem, and how the light bulb comes on again and again throughout the process. I will begin with a technique class today to introduce the ladies to some of the vocabulary we'll be using in the piece, then I will move into a rehearsal. I have decided to use all nine girls, so as not to leave anyone out of the experience of working with a guest choreographer.

~Cara

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

Yesterday evening, I took a trip to Charlotte, NC to watch the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater perform. This occasion was an extra special one, as a childhood friend of mine, Aisha, has been dancing for the company since 2008 and this was the first time I'd seen her dance with them. Aisha's mother, Cheryl, owned and operated the dance studio where I first learned to dance. She used to show us videos of dance companies and choreographers like Alvin Ailey, Garth Fagan and Talley Beatty and we would sometimes be lucky enough to attend a performance or a master class with such organizations. Now that all of us girls who used to dance at Cheryl's studio are all grown up, it has been interesting to see what we have all become: professional dancers, lawyers, ministers, filmmakers, arts administrators, and so on.

Yesterday's performance was an astonishing production that included 15 works, most of which, were excerpts. A proverbial marathon for any dancer to dance and audience member to watch.

From the moment the curtain opened, the company burst into action, setting the mood for the evening in an excerpt from The Stack Up (1982, Talley Beatty). The dancers move to catchy Jazz music with the virtuosic physicality the company is known for, energetic exuberance and dare I say it: Fierceness. Adding to the excitement of the movement were the brightly colored costumes, which created streaks and swirls of color as the dancers weaved in and out between each other and became intermingled in flashy partner work.

A contemplative contrast from works before it, Polish Pieces (1995, Hans Van Manen) was a beautifully executed duet between Rachel McLaren and Jamar Roberts. The dancers exhibited sensitivity, grace and control in this simple, no -frills presentation. The clean lines created by the simple costumes showed off the dancers' strong bodies well and invited viewers to appreciate their statuesque forms, as well as their regal movements.

The Winter in Libson (1992, Billy Wilson), with music by Dizzy Gillespie brought the ambiance in the theater back to a level of high excitement, with sassy latin dance moves and lots of pizzaz! As I looked across the theater, I could see audience members all bopping in their seats, almost ready to jump onstage and join the company in the fun!

The evening was topped off with a performance of Mr. Ailey's most celebrated work, Revelations (1960). The company delivered powerful, emotionally charged interpretations of each section of the piece. Most poignant of sections were Didn't My Lord Deliver Daniel, with its driving rhythm and heavy movement, Wade in the Water, which filled the stage space with flowing fabric and brilliant imagery, and I Wanna be Ready, a passionate, reverent solo. By the end of the journey, Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham had the whole stage bouncing and the whole audience clapping! A joyous way to end the evening.

As the company took their bows, I felt honored to have been in the presence of such fine dancers and such fine choreography. After the show, I had some time to catch up with Aisha and we shared all that is happening in our lives, which was a happy affair.

Tha Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater continues to uphold the legacy left by Mr. Ailey with poise and respect for his ever relevant and undying vision. If they happen upon a city near you, it would be a shame to miss!

~Cara

Music!!!

Today, it has been confirmed that Mackenzie and I will be performing at the Goose Route Dance Festival in Shepherdstown, WV this summer. I need to make a short work to show in addition to the work I am already bringing which has sparked in me, a long-standing habit and pleasure: the music binge! I am a lover of music and truly enjoy searching for music that moves or inspires me in some way. In fact, I must admit that it was not dancers that inspired me first to want to dance...it was music that made me want to dance! And another perhaps surprising declaration is that I hear music all the time, in everyday circumstances, where many people may not think to pause and listen...the sound of my dishwasher, as it rinses the plates: Shoosh, shaa-shoosh! Or the sound of girls talking excitedly to one another: Dee dee-dee-dee! Or the sound of the drip from the faucet: ka-plink, ta-plink...

I have been fortunate enough to grow up in a house hold where music was a part of the usual going's-on. My father, a percussionist, housed his many sets and treasures in the basement, directly below me and Mackenzie's room. Every evening, I could be literally rocked to sleep, strong vibrations moving through my chest, a sonic massage. My mother exposed us to classical music, Patsy Cline and the Beatles. Every morning, bright and early, like clockwork, our parents would turn on the stereo to play the flavor of the day...blues, rock, jazz, salsa, gospel, country, and the list goes on. Mackenzie and I learned piano during the years between first grade and eleventh grade. And for a few years in there, we played violin.

Now, as a grown woman, I often find myself spending my time and hard earned money looking for the next sound I am to embody. I enjoy having music made specifically for me, but I also like the surprise of stumbling upon a lovely surprise on iTunes or at the book store or from the hands of a friend, who knows a guy, who knows the bass player for this underground band...

Tomorrow, there will be more binging to be had. I will have to keep myself from looking at my bank account for fear I might catch a dose of reality...

~Cara

Walking

This evening, I am winding down, watching Cesar Milan on The Dog Whisperer...he says, "The more you are quiet, the more you are connecting with Mother Nature." I think about this statement as I reflect upon my day teaching dance at HPU. Often after class, my voice is tired from so much energetic talking. I have even recently taken up voice lessons, so that I might learn to talk louder with less strain on my voice. As I teach a new phrase today, I call out the movements so less experienced dancers can keep up. When I face the class to watch the phrase, I continue to call out the movements, for fear that without me, they will not remember. And many of the students agree with this fear, as they are fearful of being lost in the movement. Always, I ask my students, "What is Dance?" When they look at me blankly (though I'm sure they know the answer by now), I say..."Dance is just glorified walking!" Though this may seem to demean the art of dance, I consider this statement to mean that dancing is as natural as walking down the street...walking is something most of us learn without much to-do and for me, expressing myself through movement has always felt as natural as breathing air. Not that it did not take tremendous effort and discipline to "train" as a "dancer," but the impulse has always lived deep within me. That being said, why should I not trust that the same impulse lives somewhere in every one of my students? Next Tuesday, when I arrive to teach class, I will try keeping quiet while my students dance, only opening my mouth to bestow praise. I hope that if I shut my mouth, they will move into their attention and discover their impulse, even if they are not doing exactly the right step at the right time. Shift, throw, lilt, circle: Step, step, step, step: Right, left, right left.

Always walking,

~Cara

A Long Day...

Again today, I venture downtown to intern at the River Run Film Festival. I sit in on the staff meeting, make spread sheets and watch a submission, which I don't think I can talk about, as the festival programing is only about a quarter done.

After my time at the Film Fest, I have picked up two yoga sessions that I did not have the day before: The first is a private session, with a client who I have not seen in a few months, due to a severe muscle tear she acquired while on an elliptical machine. We get back to basics, and we work on the alignment of her spine and neck.

I then make my way over to a local elementary school to sub an all-men's yoga class. I have three gentlemen: A set of brothers, one of whom is visiting from out of town. They tell me that their mother is in hospice, and is dying. One keeps his phone on, just in case they get the call. I am struck by their matter of factness concerning the state of their mother. Then I realize, these men are just past middle age, I'm guessing late fifties, early sixties. That means their mother must be in her eighties, maybe even nineties...maybe they have all been preparing for this event for a while. Or maybe the gentlemen are struck, as well. A regular student of mine, John, whose wife takes with me, and whose daughter is a fellow yoga teacher, rounds out our three. We breathe and flow, pause and stretch. The gentlemen express their satisfaction in the class after they emerge from savasana, and the out-of-town brother is enthusiastic and full of questions for me.

Tired and hungry (I haven't eaten since breakfast), I make my way to Brett's house, who is my cinematographer, editor and friend. We spend some time making further progress with Art For The Living, the documentary we are working on. Today we come close to having our first rough cut, but stop short at making the decision on how to end the movie. I am confident that next time we come together, we will figure out how to sum up the previous shots and sequences.

Now I'm home, I've had some soup and crackers and am ready for bed. I'm preparing to wake tomorrow, and arrive at HPU on time for my dance classes!

~Cara

Back to the grind

So today, for the first time since I have been working at High Point University, I arrived 15 minutes late to my class. I am usually 15 minutes early! I just couldn't seem to get a move on this morning...

However, class still went well. I have an interesting mix of students in my two dance classes, since the classes are open to anyone who wants to take them. I have complete beginners, I have intermediate students, and a hand full of experienced dancers. Today we go through our set contemporary warm-up, to which I have been adding exercises one by one since the first class. The dancers seem to be getting more comfortable with the technical concepts I am presenting, and I expect they will make great progress through out the term, should they continue to stay engaged with their learning processes. We then review some phrase work I have created for them, to which we will continue to add material, until we have a short large group piece for their final, which will be an informal showing. Last, the students show their choreographic assignments, which they have worked on during my absence in NYC. In small groups, the students created seed material for short works they will show during their final. I was pleasantly surprised to see a vast variety of approaches and explorations. I left a little scared last week, thinking that by the blank look on many of their faces, they would be lost for how to begin their phrase work.

On Thursday, I will not be late!

After teaching my classes, I went to a planning meeting for the Storyline Project one year anniversary event. The Storyline Project is an oral history project based in Winston Salem. It is a localized version of the Story Corps, as there is a spiffy bus that houses a portable recording studio, that parks around the city and collects interviews and stories from local residence to be played on the radio. I became involved with the Storyline Project through the making of my dance work, Words Apart, which features stories collected by storyline volunteers. Since I began the piece, I have become involved with the growth of the Storyline Project, in attending and assisting with events and planning for this anniversary event. Though the event was originally supposed to be a "festival," we have decided that a larger event is out of our scope for the moment, being less than a year old. Instead, we will move forward with a "birthday party!" It will be a fun, humble event for a fun, humble organization. We are switching to a smaller venue, and we are pairing down the days activities, which included workshops and many artists, to only an evening event that will include less people. I will be showing my dance piece, and the documentary that grew out of the process of making the dance piece.

The film, called, Art For The Living, and follows Jan, an artist, who lost her husband to cancer four years ago as she creates a sculpture in his essence, as part of her grieving process. I find Jan to be a graceful human being, with wisdom to share about the cycle of life and the purpose and meaning of life while one is on this earth. During the shooting of this film, I came to learn a lot about Jan, and I continue to be intrigued by her, and her art work. I hope we are friends for many years to come. I have learned so much from her! We are currently in post production, and we are so close to having our first rough cut! Until next time...

~Cara

Home Again, Home Again.

This morning, I scribble poetry in a small notebook as I await my flight. Soon, I will share some of this poetry and other poetry I have written. As the planes were all backed up at Laguardia, I arrived back in North Carolina an hour later than I was supposed to, but happy all the same! The air is was a little warmer, and the scenery inviting. As I step out of the my car, I notice the quiet of my neighborhood replacing the constant noise in my ears from the business of the city. Hmmmm. Home. Back to my kitten, my engagement ring (I leave the ring at home when performing anywhere), my fiancee and my very own shower.

Upon showering and re-dressing, I make my way downtown, where I am interning at the River Run Film Festival. I am in a masters degree program which I have only begun this year, as a low residency student, studying Interdisciplinary Arts. I proof read fundraising records and help to list businesses we will ask to hang posters. Me and one of my colleagues hatch a plan for a volunteer poster release party, where we will devise a contest between the volunteers to see who can get the most hung. We briefly discuss the roadshow launch party, too. Since I have started at the festival so far, I have helped to coordinate bulk mailings, solicit businesses for sponsorship, organized films and files from previous years' festivals and screened submissions. I have organized archived merchandise, taken inventory on a number of things, including booze and lanyards and t-shirts and I have run errands around town, hand delivering various materials and documents. My hope in doing this internship is to get another perspective on the world of filmmaking. Currently, I have been in front of the camera, and behind it. I have sat with my cinematographer/editor to cut and paste shots together and I have had my work shown in film festivals over the past year. However, understanding the inner workings of a particular forum, where most films get their beginnings, I think will give me insight into how I approach future film projects.

After leaving the film festival office, I go to teach the evening's yoga class. I have an intimate group of seven, for a beginner flow style class. How I have missed teaching yoga these past few days! We work on the actions of the arms and shoulders for downward dog and other weight bearing postures. We work on the use of the abdominal muscles in weight bearing postures and standing postures. We work on the actions of the limbs and trunk in balancing postures. We do a few back bends and a few yin style stretches. The students leave relaxed and ready for bed! I am always amazed at how something so physical can put you in the mood for bed so effectively.

Tomorrow, it is back to teaching my students in the performing arts department at High Point University. Contemporary dance, open level. I am looking forward to seeing the students' choreography assignments I gave them to work on while I was in NYC!

~Cara

Cool NY Dance Festival-More Reviews and Thoughts! 2/7

The Cool NY 2010 Dance Festival can be successfully checked off of the list! Mackenzie and I completed our second performance of Words Apart (excerpts) to a full house early this Sunday evening. From those that have viewed the piece, I gather that they appreciated that we presented the stories in their unaltered state. All of the words spoken in the piece are parts of actual conversations, not made into poetic rhythms or lofty dialogue. I think the natural rhythms and cadence of each of the voices is one of the things that drew me to making this piece...

After completing our own performance, I decided to stay along for the 6pm show, the last show in the festival this year. Again, all of the choreographers and dancers should be commended for their artistic efforts this evening. Here are a few highlights from the show:

Flexicurve premiered a work entitled, Chair, a solo choreographed by Pascal Rekoert, and performed by Mariana Cardenas. Mariana is a beautiful dancer, capable of strong technical dancing as well as a strong stage presence. This piece had an air of broadway to it, wrought with emotion and large demonstrative movements that went along with the words being sang in the songs, A House is Not a Home and I'll Never Fall in Love Again. This kind of emotional presentation is rare in many modern dance offerings and made for a pleasant break from the "dark and artsy."

Medusa Possessed, Choreographed and performed by Tomomi Imai was tactile in its approach, beginning with the use of only a flashlight to light herself and her space on stage. The flashlight focused the eye on parts of her body, parts of the space and made you want to see more. Once the lights came on, she did show you more, in the form of large, reaching phrases with beautiful moments of tenderness and keen dynamic sensibility.

Lenora Lee presented a multimedia dance work, featuring video design by Olivia Ting. Memory, Reflection, Passage was a lovely play between dancer and projection, neither overpowering the other, but living in harmony in their space together. Lenora's luscious, silky phrase work was that of a choreographer who knows her body and her craft well, and was a joy to watch.

Psy-chic Love, choreographed by Emily Pope-Blackman, featured an unlikely cast of characters. Emily, who danced in the piece, gave commentary on love in both words and movement. Her daughter, Savannah, a small child, danced the first solo, and was a delight! Goes to show you that art, when done in earnest, and with joy, can be "professional," no matter who is doing it! Savannah really held her own! Also in the cast were four men, each representing a stop on the journey of love. The only true dance theater piece of the evening, the work differed from the usual presentation of bodies on stage that do not address the audience members directly.

Well, if you missed the festival, you'll just have to wait until next year to check it out! Now I am off to bed, to catch an early flight back to NC...I'm so excited!!!

~Cara

Cool NY Dance Festival Reviews and Thoughts 2/5/10

The Cool NY Dance Festival this year is showing a total of 63 companies over the two weekends it is running. We are currently in the second weekend, and I had the privilege of viewing work by seven choreographers yesterday evening. Though all of the work presented warranted praise, three works in particular stood out to me:

Divine Pass, Choreographed and performed by Nicole Smith/project:Smith featured text by both Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf. Nicole's long, languid limbs moved with rhythmic sensitivity through the words. Her dynamic play between sharp, precise movements and more subtle movements, gave the piece incredible texture and depth that complimented the cogent words that filled the space around her.

The Effortless Masetry, Choreographed by Amanda Hinchey showed choreographic sensibility beyond her years as a newly-graduated artist. The quintet featured Amanda, and four other young, able dancers. The piece was physical and artfully tempered with long pauses. The text, by Kenny Werner, talks about the importance of music...how it is an optional luxury we have on this earth, and how great technique is not as important as we'd like to think! "...The only important thing is your next breath..." It was clear that Amanda took these words to heart in the making of this piece, and it made for an enjoyable experience!

And Lastly, Sue Bernhard's offering of Tilting Toward Light turned out to be a lovely one. The trio, choreographed to Bach's Suite no. 1 in G Major for Cello was playful and airy. The clever, seamless use of the three light, moveable benches on stage was refreshing, and the constant changing of space with the benches was a visual delight. The dancers moved through each newly created space with grace and breath, and their engaging demeanors topped off what was already a beautiful piece of work.

These works and others will be performed again this evening, Saturday February 6th at 9pm!

~Cara

Moving Day!

This mid-morning, I accompany Mackenzie to a contemporary dance class at Steps On Broadway, a dance studio on the west side of Manhattan. Living in NC, I rarely have opportunities to take class, as there is not an abundant amount of classes scattered throughout the day, as there are in NYC. So when class is being given, I am usually teaching at that very same time.

Since leaving the city, I have been in the habit of giving myself class about four times a week. My alone time in the studio has opened many avenues for exploration of my own body and my own thoughts, which I have found integral to the growth of my art work. However, this morning I wondered if I still had the ability to pick up movement that is not my own. I wondered if I've still "got it," if I could hang with "the real dancers." To my surprise, I very much enjoyed the class, the instructor and his way of moving! I felt myself smiling all through the warm up and into the phrase work. Such a different feeling, dance is, when you are not telling you what to do, and you are interpreting someone else's kinetic musings...What's more, I felt right at home with the rest of the class. It was easy! And my body did what everyone else's body was doing - in my own way, of course! In my excitement, I appreciated the sweat on my forehead and the twinge of fatigue in my right thigh, as well as the new raw patch on my left foot. These are things I often experience while on my own in the studio, but there is something to sharing these happenings with others, as a collective, that is just as special as owning them all by yourself.

Up next, I will venture to the Cool NY Dance Festival, as it is not our evening to perform, and watch some of the other choreographers and dancers do what they do best!

By the way, this marks my seventh day writing this blog...our one week anniversary! Very exciting...and here's to many, many, many more weeks of thoughts on art! Thanks for reading, until next time....oh, that's tomorrow!

~Cara

Out and About...and home for beer.

Irritation begins to set in as I acknowledge my fatigue from the day's activities. 8am rehearsal. 2pm technical rehearsal. 9pm performance. I am glad to be back at Mackenzie's apartment, awaiting the completion of a pasta dinner, and the chilling of Czech beer.

Our performance this evening at the Cool NY Dance Festival went as well as any other performance, with few slip-ups. It was good to have a few friends in the audience this evening, as well. This being only the second time we have performed Words Apart, I am comforted by the ease I find in moving into the emotional journey from which the piece was initially created. Words Apart is a collection of interviews of women from around the Triad area, telling personal stories of triumph over discrimination, finding love in unlikely places, living with grief and everlasting friendship. We perform only an excerpt, but I am reminded of the sweet, giddy memories described by Cynthia, when telling her story of how she met and married her husband after only knowing him for nine days. And the sacred space separating each word between Zoe and Jan, as they share the experience of losing a father and husband before his time. I am humbled by the stories...humbled by the strength of the women, their persistence and their capacity for love. Each story makes me think of similar situations in my life, and I feel more connected to the stories, and the embodiment of those stories.

More thoughts on that tomorrow, when I am not so tired!

~Cara

Familiar Places

Arriving in New York is always a struggle for me...I stepped off of the plane at 7am yesterday morning to a chilly sunrise. As we waited for our bags plane-side, the pilot says, "Oh, this isn't so bad...yesterday I was in Minneapolis, and it was minus 10 degrees, no wind chill!" I can only smile politely, wishing, from the moment my feet touched the pavement, that I was back in my cozy condo in North Carolina. Too lazy to wait for the M60 bus that early in the morning, I catch a yellow cab to Mackenzie's place. "158th and Riverside," I say. The cabby repeats the location back to me, and we are off. Looking out the window, I see beauty in the city sunrise. Pinkish purple light hitting the high rise buildings in the distance. I fall in love with New York all over again for a moment... then I notice the cab driver passing the 155th street exit on the highway. "Where are you going? I said 158th and Riverside." The cab driver says, "181 and Fort Washington?" When we finally get to where I had originally asked to be let off, I barter with the cab driver to lower the fare. He is unforgiving. Too early for confrontation, I give in and pay him thirty-five dollars. I am frustrated, but happy to be at my home away from home, Mackenzie's apartment.

This morning, bright and early, Mackenzie and I walked out onto the sidewalk to get on the train from Washington Heights to Brooklyn to rehearse the excerpt from Words Apart, which we perform on Thursday and Sunday at the Cool NY Dance Festival. We rehearse at a studio where we did our very first audition upon arriving in NYC after graduating college, that year in 2005. I ended up getting the gig, and I rehearsed there for many hours that Fall. I remembered how the finish on the old wooden floor would flake, and leave bits on your clothes, and how the floor at the entrance to the restroom is raised two inches, so as not to stub my toe on the way in, and how the entire place was full of dry heat from the metal heaters all along the walls. We are efficient in our efforts today: run the partnering section, run the solo section, put them together, clean and repeat. Done, and done. I love when things go according to plan! We even have time for a bit of "unadulterated groove time," as I like to call it. Just playing the jams, and groovin' the way we want to...

The next part of our plan is to get back on the train to Manhattan in time for Mackenzie to catch a nap before work. MTA does not have the same plan in mind. On the L train, we are packed like sardines, as people are rushing to get to work and it is hard to navigate through the sea of hot, winter-coat-laden bodies without stepping on someone's toe or elbowing them in the ribs. The train doors won't close. "Stand clear of the closing doors!" The conductor yells down the platform. Once we transfer to the 1 train, it stops suddenly at 59th street. "We are having some mechanical difficulties with this train...the next and last stop on this train will be 66th street!" The conductor announces. We get out and wait for the next train. Almost home, until again, the conductor's voice booms, "The next stop on this train after 137th street will be 168th street!" We need to get off at 157th. At 168th, we get off and change platforms, waiting for a downtown 1 train. Finally, we are home. Mackenzie plops into bed for a short nap. We get to do that again, and more, tomorrow.

~Cara

Rise and Shine, Even Before the Sun Does!

Here it is, 2:27 am on Tuesday, and I am writing today's blog. Last night's performance, just hours ago, went very well! Again, good reaction from the audience and a great time to be had. As I loaded out our props and got into the car to head home, I felt a sense of ease I often feel after performing: like I can breathe a little deeper, my head clear of chatter, and my muscles soft. When I have described this to other people, the say, "Well, you're just tired! Take a nap!" And often, I do, but it is because of an emotional, intellectual and physical release that sleep comes so easily to me after a weekend of performing. A great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. The weight of doubt, frustration and anxiety that comes with creating new work, and presenting it to strangers. As well, the weight of formerly having a seemingly monumental task laid out in front of me, which is now complete. The task of performance is double sided: on the one hand, one is giddy with excitement to show the work that has been done. You gain energy from the audience members in front of you or around you. There is an exchange during performance between audience and performer that is sacred, and breathes life into a piece of work. What is happening on stage is only half the art. The amalgamation of artist and viewer makes the experience complete for both parties. On the other hand, there is much distress when engaging in performance. In the 15 minutes before the curtain rises, there are hearts to slow down, lungs to fill, minds to quell. Nervous energy makes one pace behind the wings, and contemplate if the work done in preparation for this arrival has been good work, and if your body will do what it has committed to memory. And happily, usually, it does.

Now that the Greensboro Fringe can be checked off of my list, it is off to NYC in just a few more hours to do the Cool NY Dance Festival in Dumbo, Brooklyn. I am looking forward to rehearsing and performing with my twin sister, and dance partner, Mackenzie. And the piece we are performing an excerpt from, Words Apart, has a special place in my heart, as I learned so much, and made so many new friends during the making of the piece. I think this piece will have an illustrious life, for a little dance piece. Almost time to go to the airport. Time alone in the airport gives me time to think and decompress. And prepare for the intense cold I will face upon my arrival to the city...

~Cara

Home Stretch, and Then Some...

Though not feeling as well as I would have liked when I got to the theater yesterday, I was happy to be warming up backstage awaiting the premiere of Lost and Found, the piece I'd been working on so hard. Just a little after 2pm, the lights came up, and Scott played me in...Happy to see so many faces (many more than expected on a snowy day in NC), we had a blast! And before I knew it, the piece was over! There is no such thing as a perfect run, so there were a few minor things...a late light cue, a flubbed line, but nothing serious! I couldn't have been happier with the reaction we got from the audience! After the performance was over, a woman from the audience told us a story about an old letter she'd kept that was her grandfather's from WWI, unopened, and how she could not part with it because of the history it had behind it... A woman from the Guilford County School System approached us, and asked us if we would perform at their spring symposium... We also swapped information with the director of Final Word, the other theater company sharing the afternoon slot with us, asking if we'd be interested to perform the piece at a festival in May! I love it when things begin to "roll" from the first performance of a piece. I am always surprised and fascinated with the life a piece leads all on its own: Its birth, it's growth, and finally its death...and sometimes, its resurrection. Now after a cat nap, I'm gearing up for this evening's show at 8pm, as well as packing my bag for my trip to New York City early tomorrow morning...5am to be exact!

Aside from my activities regarding the Greensboro Fringe Festival, where we are performing Lost and Found, I have been working hard on applications. During the Fall and winter, it is my ritual to do as many applications as I possibly can. No, not for a new job! For dance festivals, film festivals, residencies and grants! I sent off a few today, some local, some out of state, and one to the Netherlands...and now to wait, and see what comes out in the wash! That is always the hardest part. Every March, April and May, I am biting my fingernails hoping that the ones I really had my heart set on come through! And usually, one does. And a few that I was only half excited about come through, and at least one surprise! Off now to get some eats before the show...wish me luck!

~Cara