Today is Thursday.

Today was a day full of artistic activity. I got up bright and early, to meet Jan so I could film her installing her sculpture at hospice. It turned out to be both a joyous and bittersweet occasion, with plenty of hugs and kind words shared between friends and acquaintances. The counseling staff at hospice truly loved Jan's work, and were absorbed with the depth and complexity of the piece. Jan explained the significance of various parts of the sculpture to the staff, and they listened intently and continued to admire the piece, using words like, "wow," and "amazing." A man climbed up on a ladder, and focused a light on the sculpture to make it fully visible to all the visitors that pass through their doors. There will be a framed document hung above the piece, so visitors will know why it resides in the hall of the hospice counseling center. I have to admit, I was afraid to go into hospice, afraid of what I might see: sad families, sick patients, confused children. However, Jan put my fear to rest as she explained how during her husband's ordeal, hospice became a kind of sanctuary for her. And she was right. Once I walked into the doors, it was immediately apparent that hospice is a place where people come to find comfort and the strength to endure difficult life situations with the help of others.

Hours prior to my experience at hospice with Jan today, I was awake in my bed, with a poem bubbling in my head. I have since written out a draft of the poem, which is to be a treatise on how a man should make love to a woman. Despite what you may be thinking, the poem is very sweet, and I experimented with the poem, integrated with movement today during my time at the dance studio. I played some music with a good deal of silence and space in between the notes, and experimented with where words would go, and where movement would go. It felt lovely. However, I have in my mind, fears about the possibility of presenting work on a topic that may not be appropriate for all ages. I am afraid about what people might think. What if they don't think the poem is as sweet as I do? What if they don't take interest in the rhythm of the words, and the blend of movement, music and dictation? Since this is making me uncomfortable, this might mean that I should move into this new territory and invite the challenge of making this piece with the artistic standards that I hold myself to.

This afternoon, I get an e-mail from a representative from the Guilford County School System, confirming Scott and my presence at the history teacher's event on April 9th. We have come to a consensus on the contract amount, and we are so excited! If all goes well, we will get some in-school performances for the 2010/2011 school year.

The only bad event of the day was an e-mail I received in regards to a week-long workshop Mackenzie and I were supposed to conduct in Fayetteville in early April. Due to low enrollment, the workshop has been canceled, and we have to say goodbye to a good chunk of much-needed money for that month. Sometimes, being a freelance artist is risky, and you cannot always count on what you've been promised, even if you've signed a contract. Now, the best thing we can do is to try to find a few smaller things in April to make up for the loss. However, nothing is a guarantee.

Concerning my yoga teaching today, I began private sessions with a new client. her name is Betty, and she is wonderful. She is my first elderly client, but she took to the poses I gave her with grace and ease. We do most of our work on a chair, with the help of blocks and straps, to make the poses appropriate for the needs of her body. Though this is only her first yoga experience ever, she immediately decides she would like to do more, and makes another appointment with me for Monday.

More tomorrow.

~Cara