Ok, that was a geek reference if ever there was one.  However, I couldn’t get it out of my head, so that’s the title.

I did something finally that I hadn’t ever done before, but always had been talking about.  I performed bellydance solo.  Not as a solo in part with other dancers, but as in stepped up and - with the support of my friends - did my own thing, to my own music, with my own costuming.  And it was significantly different from things I’d done before.

It was surprisingly refreshing and frightening at the same time.

It’s amazing how different I feel now.  It is as if doing that changed some wiring inside me. I had been avoiding it for the longest time - not that I couldn’t dance solo on an impromptu basis, at haflas, at gatherings, around bonfires.  But I went to an organized event and danced cabaret-tribal style in a cabaret-tribal costume and made something my own. 

It was NOT perfect, by any means.  But it was not horrific. 

And now I’m scheduled to do it again at the end of August - which frankly freaks me out.

Everytime I have a dance weekend, I contemplate the enigmatic world of bellydance.  I wonder what I am doing here in this corporate world, sitting in front of a desk when I could be drilling, shimmying, choreographing.  Is this how everyone is when they immerse themselves in their art?

This last weekend was very much the same - but also very different.  This weekend marks a change in how I go forward.  I will be dancing with others, but I will also be pursuing a solo existence.  And I’m not sure how necessarily to balance both worlds evenly. 

 Why is it so hard to go solo on a project?  What is it in me that will go to the end of the earth for a group project, but when it is just for me, I end up settling for something that gets me through it without TOO much shame.  Why can I sacrifice my time and put all my creativity into something that is a manifestation of a few people, but not able to do the same for something that comes just from within me?

I don’t know, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out.

Le danseuse est mort.  Viva la danseuse!

[ Upon returning to the blogosphere, I find I had this post in my unfinished posts section.  Reading it months later, I’m posting it as is.  It represents a time, a place…and to try and alter it now would not do it the justice of the expression of that moment.  And to be honest, I don’t remember what it was about.]

I think we would be also pretty well served to consider dancing like traveling.  We can look back at where we’ve come from.  We can take a snapshot of where we are, and we can look at the map of where we are going. But we don’t know what that will look like when we get there.  So we should embrace each stop along the way, recognize how it is different and the same.

And that is what makes up our dance, that is what gives it depth.  If you are in the same place, and your travel has ended, then you only have the stories that you have learned up to that spot to tell in your dance.

If you view your travel as continuing over the horizon of what you know is out there, then think of all the tales you will have to tell in your movements!

I was completely floored when my private dance instructor called me a “professional” and “passionate” dancer. I immediately discredited that statement. Silly me. It wasn’t inaccurate. But for some reason, we cannot accept positive things well in our culture.

We have a huge image issue with embracing what we are, and where we are going RIGHT NOW. We are constantly looking back at how bad we were, or looking forward at what we are not yet. Thus, we limit ourselves by refusing to acknowledge the NOW. The pressure of the past and of the future keep us firmly entrenched, stagnant.

And I’d agree with mrsmalkav - others often try to keep you down if you do claim rightful titles, or dare label yourself. Thus the scramble for certifications in the bellydance community. It’s a dancer being able to say - see? I’ve got proof from some outside authority that I am worthwhile. Instead of looking at my dance, look at my papered walls. (please note, that I like certifications and am not dissin’ certifications. I’m questioning some dancers’ NEED to strive for certification rather than striving to be a better dancer. We all know people like this.)

There’s a difference between hubris and courage, but I think we’ve gotten it mixed up. It’s courage to strive for what you want, and to put yourself out there into a challenge. Hubris is to assume superiority, to enter a situation already putting oneself above the others.

More dancers should bite off more than they can chew. Right now they might say, “Look at her trying to be more than us.” But later they could all be saying, “Look at the chances she took to get where she is today. I wish I could be like her.” Do we even know where our limitations truly lie till we press beyond our horizons?

Dancers have to be courageous. Courage is the warp to the art we weave….Every step, every turn, every expression - an act of courage.

So, we are out - debut on Friday, June 22nd.  It’s our birthday. 

 All that work, over in 5 minutes.  *chuckles*  I’m sure we’ll have more opportunity to get up there and get out there.

 We are looking at really building into several areas - but I’m sure you’ll see more of the same for a while.  There’s a lot to be done!

1. Map out Song
2. Listen to song and determine feel of presentation using visualization
3. Listen for different layers of music (core beat, drop outs, accents)
4. Determine goals and goal moves (specific moves you want to incorporate into the performance)
5. Start to fill in parts of the song where you are inspired to move a certain way.
6. Build around those parts into cohesive movement sections.
7. Keep in mind: levels, movement across the stage, using the stage, framing. 
8. Perform sections of music.
9. Perform whole song with transitions.
10. Review and edit choreography to tone down monotony, change feeling and transitions, add ignored moves.

“I don’t believe in total freedom for the artist. Left on his own, free to do anything he likes, the artist ends up doing nothing at all.  If there’s one thing that’s dangerous for an artist, it’s precisely this question of total freedom, waiting for inspiration and all the rest of it.”–Federico Fellini