Hi there.

Coronado Beach sunset

Well, howdy. It's been a hot minute.

I've missed this. I miss the writing, the community, and getting on my soapbox from time to time (ha!). As spring slowly thaws out Pittsburgh, my writing muscles are thawing out, too.

I have things I want to share with you. Adventures I'm having, projects I'm starting, dreams I'm scheming, challenges I'm facing. The desire to share has been brewing for weeks now, but I had to work out some kinks in my head. Sometimes I get too wrapped up analyzing this and that, worrying that my ramblings are of little to no interest to anyone. I know my fellow writers can relate... I also know that we throw in the towel at some point and jump right in anyway!

So, here I am. Feeling a little rusty. Feeling a little shy.

Here's a sneak preview of what I'll probably chit-chat about in the coming weeks:

* I'm teaching weekly fitness classes to seniors at a local senior facility. They're a kick in the pants!

* I finally went swing dancing after living in Pittsburgh for a year and a half. A year and a half too long, yo.

* I visited San Diego last month. Love.

* I registered for Zumba training and certification at long last.

* Rheumatoid arthritis is no joke. Two years post-diagnosis, I have much to rant about.

I think that's a good start.

It's nice to be back.

xoxo

#31Days, Episode 6/7: Influence + life lately + freedom

Hello friends and welcome to Episode 6/7 of #31Days to the Lindy Hop, the writing challenge linkup hosted by The Nester. Today is detour from straight up Lindy story-telling, though. I have another story to tell today, one that explains a little bit of my life lately... but it circles right back to dance.

Just over a week ago, I returned from Indianapolis where I attended the Influence Conference.

I've had a really hard time articulating to people just how awesomesauce the Influence Conference was. When asked, I stare at them for a second and then blurt out "so great" or "just what I needed!" Not too profound, and it definitely doesn't do the conference justice. But amigos?? It changed the trajectory of my life. Them's fightin' words, I know. And while even this post won't do what is going on in my heart and head justice, it is the best I can do for now.

Leading up the to the conference, I was not in a good place. My life was full of busy-ness, but I was expending what little time and energy I have outside of my full time job on pointless things. To add insult to injury, I knew that I was wasting and losing time. But I felt helpless and stuck and I had no idea how to even begin to dig myself out.

Add to that bitterness and pure, black anger that had been residing in my heart since leaving Colorado in August 2012. I hated Pittsburgh, y'all, just hated it. And I hated that I hated it, because I am not a hater. My essence is joy and energy and life and glitter and sunshine. For real. But somehow, somewhere along the way, my first year living in the 'Burgh was filled with ugly, hot anger. I tried so hard to fight it, I really did. I tried to "have a better attitude", to pretend that I was okay, to fake seeing the good in the city. It was exhausting and it flattened me.

Then God took me to the Influence Conference and in the span of three days, shifts on a tectonic scale occurred within my heart.

The point at which I realize it had happened was while riding the bus back into the city from the airport. Instead of the usual knot of lead in my stomach, I found myself eager.... what the what? I was in shock. Then, as I transitioned back to normal life and returned to my daily routines last week, I experienced another strange feeling: I felt at home. What on earth happened to me in Indianapolis??

Call me crazy, amigos, but that is nothing to me but proof that prayer is no joke. Because there is no other explanation for such a sudden 180-degree turn in my heart. The power of positive thinking? Please. God really does hear us. Through last year, He heard all of my sobbing and my f-bombs and everything in between. Go figure.

So how on earth does this nice little story have anything to do with the Lindy Hop?? Well, I find God in art, specifically dance and music. When I am on a dance floor or stage, or listening to my Louis Armstrong Pandora station, my soul feels things that can be nothing else but God. But while I was stuck in the hamster wheel of busy-ness and anger, this was impossible. Art was impossible.

via Pinterest

Now, as if awakening from a paralytic coma, I'm free. Free to do art. Free to find God again on the marley, at the barre, in a swing out, in the wail of the trumpet...

Get down with your bad selves, amigos!

xoxo

J

Influence + #31Days sneak peak

Oh, where to begin?​

I just returned from the Influence Conference and my heart and my head are so, so full. There is so much I want to share--so much--but I'm going to divulge in a slow stream over time, as things come to me, rather than one big heart dump.​ That would just be a mess.

So much inspiration. 

Lara Casey and Jeff Goins both caused a major paradigm shift in how I think of myself, my dream, my why.  

Shauna Niequist reminded me that my work is my responsibility. She gave me permission to do my thing with my brand of crazy. She also dropped this truth bomb:

"The lie is scarcity; the truth is abundance."

There is plenty of room in this world for more art, more creativity, more beauty. No artist should be hoarding her gifts. Preach, Shauna.


Oh, there is much, much more. More inspiration, more encouragement. Seeds have been planted--ideas, friendships, truth. More to come...

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

In the spirit of the conference and in honor of one of these seeds, I'm joining in the 31 Days link-up hosted by The Nester, which kicks off tomorrow, October 1. The linkup is a writing challenge to post every day in the month of October, talking about one topic, any topic. My #31Days topic is where it all began for me, my roots.

I cannot wait to share this story with you.

Join me tomorrow for the kick off!

 xoxo

J

Dance auditions: don't think, do {part 2}

Manic Monday thwarted my posting schedule once again, hence why part two of my story is late.

But you know how we roll here at Better late than never...

I was a little nervous walking into the studio, of course, especially since the other dancers were greeting each other with seasoned familiarity. But wouldn't you know it, before I could even begin to feel sorry for myself that I was the odd woman out, one of the girls bounced over to me, said "Hi!", and when I reached out my hand to shake hello, she enveloped me in a hug instead.

Yes. I was with my people.

We stretched, we filled out registration forms, and we took our places on the marley. And we danced.

So, how did I do? Did I get my leg up to my head? I know you all lost sleep over this over the weekend... ;)

My leg did not get to my head (working on it). I stumbled here and there, I forgot bits and pieces of combinations, and good gravy my laterals (Horton technique, anyone?) are out of practice. But you know what?? I deem the audition one big, fat success.

Here's why.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I was very concerned about being too old and too out of practice. I have convinced myself over the last year or so that maybe the four-plus years at CSU were it for me, that my pursuit of dance was a fun but temporary season, nothing I was going to really do anything with, and now it was time to move on. I was sad every time this crossed my mind, but that's been my train of thought as of late.

Thank God that runaway train was derailed.

After the audition, the August Wilson Dance Ensemble held their company rehearsal, and they invited us to stay and watch. Sitting in that dark theater was the cherry on top. Watching those talented dancers work through their rehearsal process, watching the director work with them, asking them to give more of themselves, to move beyond the room we were in... Oh my heavens. Just yes.

It was just what I needed to reconfirm that yes, this is where I belong. My time on the marley is not quite over.

xoxo

J

Dance auditions: don't think, do {part 1}

I've been quiet on social media all week because I get all weird and superstitious about things like this. But I have been dying to tell you all about my Friday plan: a dance audition!

So there's this company based out of Chicago called Deeply Rooted Dance Theater, whom I love. I attended their Summer Dance Intensive in 2009, and I haven't been able to let them go since I left the Windy City that summer. Back then, I entertained thoughts of packing up my life in Colorado and moving to Chi-town to pursue dance with this crew, but as time and life went on, it just didn't happen. I always regretted that a little. Now I follow their whereabouts and doings all over the interwebs, admiring them from afar.

As you might expect, I'm on their email list. Last Saturday I was standing in the kitchen with my husband, scrolling through email on my phone. There was one from Deeply Rooted about upcoming auditions for this summer's intensive. I didn't think much of it, knowing I {probably} can't go because of work, intending to delete the email after a quick glance... until I saw that the first city on the list was Pittsburgh!

My initial reaction was "Deeply Rooted is coming, I need to go!", quickly followed by "But wait..." and a list of reasons why I shouldn't: I'm not prepared for an audition. My technique is rusty. I can't get my leg up to my head. I don't have a head shot. I haven't taken a modern dance class for over a year. Everyone else will be at least 10 years younger than me. I'm old. Blah blah blah...

My husband raised his eyebrow at me while I rattled off excuses, finally interrupting me. "You should do it."

I stared at him for a second. And then something inside me sparked. "I'm going."

Pinterest

And we quickly began formulating a game plan. I had five days. Dance class. The gym. Floor barre at home. Massage a la the Hubs. All with the intent to prep smart not hard... killing myself, making myself too sore and tired by today would not have been the help I needed.

On Monday, I called the Deeply Rooted office to ask questions, mainly to find out if the audition was open to all levels and - ahem - ages. Tuesday I called back to register. This morning I hopped the bus that took me downtown. I walked into the August Wilson Center and said, "Hi, my name is Jessi..."

Part 2 coming Monday!

Find out how I did, if I got my leg to my head, and if I held my own with the 20-year olds... :)

Happy weekend!

xoxo

J

Seeking: Inspiration

I've been feeling a little blah lately - okay, a lot blah.

My typical day goes a bit like this: hit the snooze button three too many times, frantically rush to get ready for work, barely catch the bus, work all day, head to a dance class or the gym, wait and wait and wait and wait for the bus, arrive home by 9:30 on a good night, shove food into my mouth, scroll through my emails or flip through the snail mail, respond to an email or two if I'm lucid, clean up the dish disaster from the morning, collapse into bed... And repeat. The weekend arrives with it's own bustle of errands and household chores, squeezing in husband and friend time when I'm not decompressing or catching extra zzz's. Before I know it, Monday is here again.

Whew.

I'm no stranger to an over-committed schedule. I guess my true complaint is I feel that my life lately is colored in shades of beige and gray, reflecting winter here in Pittsburgh. The days and weeks pass and I feel like I'm just going through the motions. No color, no flashes of inspiration, no aha! moments. I long to teach, to choreograph, to create, and find myself playing the wishing game with the ideas that dance through my mind, causing my heart to flutter as I lay in bed at night. But when the moment comes when I sit down at my computer, or stand in my bedroom (the current choreography studio), poised and ready... nothing.

The ideas vanish.

Then I had my duh moment: it is impossible to give when your well is empty.

I woke up last weekend and decided it was time to change what I can control. I can't change the weather (oh how I'd love to borrow some Colorado sun to share with the Steel City) but I can add splashes of color here and there. After brainstorming a game plan, I ventured out to obtain a few nuggets to begin the awakening.


At the Ballet: Onstage, Backstage... A big book of snapshots of the San Francisco Ballet in 1998, in company class, rehearsal, children taking their first class, and principal dancers captivating the audience. Nothing inspires me more than dance photography. A dancer's body in action is nothing less than art.

Never Stand Still: Dancing at Jacob's Pillow... Merce Cunningham, Paul Taylor, Suzanne Farrell, Mark Morris, Judith Jamison, Bill Irwin - need I say more? It is but a dream to simply take class at the Pillow. Becket, MA, is a lot closer to Pittsburgh than Colorado was. One step closer.

My good friends Detective Holmes and Dr. Watson never fail to help get the storytelling juices flowing (aren't old British detective stories just the bees knees?!). I also picked up a story about two sisters' adventures in western China in 1923, and how they are tied to a modern-day London gal. A Lady Cyclist's Guide to Kashgar, by Suzanne Joinson, is sure to pluck at my own wanderlusting heartstrings.

New sketch pencils, a Pink Pearl eraser, and a sharpener... the cherry on top! Using the aforementioned book of ballet dancers, I intend to shake the cobwebs loose from my figure drawing and costume sketches. Just a playful hobby for me, but one that I love and am not too terrible at.

All in all, nothing extravagant or elaborate, but enough to begin filling the well, drop by drop.

What's filling your well these days?

 

 xoxo

J

Happy happy happy

Happy Monday, happy February, just happy!

Mr. Groundhog informs us spring is fast approaching. The weather outside says otherwise. I hope he's right, because I'm ready for these:

All Pinterest

I finally saw a rheumatologist last week, hooray! This means the return to my RA drug treatment (this makes me sound like I have a drug problem... rest assured, these are doc prescribed). This in turn means subsiding flare ups and pain, which means getting back to my regularly scheduled program of this:

Gettin' down with my bad self, circa 2011.
That guy on the right? That's my friend C. He's the life of the party, always.
Photo credit: Jessica Loucks.

Valentine's Day! Which means this:

{Google images}

Burgers for V-Day? You know it.

Our first date was on Valentine's Day. Oh so cliche, I know. It was totally spontaneous and an "undate", if you will. More on that later this month... :)

Happy Monday!

xoxo

J

Saved by the drums

Long before my days of ballet and modern dance, I began putting down roots in what are considered "vernacular" dance styles. Namely, swing dance (Lindy Hop), hip hop and West African. When people ask me what my favorite type of dance is, it's a toss up between one of these three. Whether I'm swiveling my hips in a swing out, gettin' down to some old school beats or stomping my feet to the drum, I'm my happiest.

New Year's Eve 2008

Three weeks ago, just about when I was feeling at the end of my whoa-is-me-I'm-never-going-to-dance-again rope, enter West African.

You can't see it, but I'm grinning ear-to-ear - I love to fly!

Just like before beginning any new dance class, I was nervous - way out of dance shape, party of one! - but that dissipated as soon as the drums began. The body remembers. Oh, that doesn't mean to say it didn't school me. It most definitely did. But the soul remembers, too. It had been a long time since my last African dance class and it felt like I had come back home after being away for too long.

African-inspired modern piece, fall 2009

You know when you're doing something and suddenly the activity and people around you fade to the background? The only thing you're conscious of is you, in that moment, doing that thing? When something inside of you utters a clear and distinct "yes"? Despite exhausted muscles and a heart pounding in my chest, that was me three weeks ago.

Hubs tells me I look most beautiful after class. That's crazy, because I'm one hot mess - clothes soaked, hair awry and face beet red. He says it's because joy is radiating from inside me and that makes me beautiful.

Birthday dance, 2010

I sure have missed this joy. 

 xoxo

J

Waiting in the wings

Let's take a pause from all these Hungry Dancer posts, shall we? I mean, I have all kinds of HD posts in the queue and more being conjured up in my brain at the rate of my Twitter feed. But let's take a moment to discuss the reason for this blog's existence in the first place: DANCE.

Until last week, the last time I danced was the end of July. The dance hiatus has made me feel like I don't have much to talk about. Which is silly, really, considering there are all kinds of dance-related topics I could cover. More truthfully, though, my lack of dancing has some crazy negative psychological effects, which then affect my blog productivity. Namely, I start questioning if I can really call myself a dancer if I'm not currently dancing, so if I can't call myself a dancer then how can I write about dance and life as a dancer if I'm just one big fraud? Oy.

It's all complete baloney, of course. I know this. But as we all know, sometimes it's really hard to turn off the internal trash talk.

Also? I'm up against a couple of real-life obstacles that are making things difficult.

Numero uno: money. Long story short, I have yet to find employment, and until I do, we're living on Hubs' grad student stipend. As such, there is zero wiggle room in our budget beyond the basics. That means no dance classes, no social dance nights and no seeing dance performances (and there are all kinds here in the 'Burgh that I'm itching to check out!). Boo, yes. But reality bites sometimes.

Numero dos: my health. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (RA) earlier this year. RA is an autoimmune disease that can be lived with pain and symptom-free, provided you're under a doctor's care. Another long story short, my medical care and medication was interrupted over the summer. Thus, my RA started flaring right about the time we arrived in Pitt. This RA business is no joke. Oh my goodness, the pain. For example, say my shoulder joint is inflamed. It feels like someone is trying to tear my arm off of my body. And the daily recommended dose of ibuprofen barely touches it. It's terrible. My doc back in Colorado graciously extended my prescription for me for a couple of months until I find a doctor here. It's starting to help, slowly, but it is still a toss up every day whether I'm going to wake up pain free or not. This one's a toughie, y'all.

So. Spending freeze. Pain. Bad little voices in my head. I'm up against some serious biz here, but I'm learning some important lessons along the way. For one, I'm learning to roll with the punches. Life is what it is right now. While I have no control over some of it, I do have control over me. How I react. My attitude. What I do with my time. Time is a precious, elusive gift - how often do we complain that we don't have enough time?? I've been given this gift and I'm not going to take it for granted. I'm also getting to practice patience, understanding that my time will come when the time is right.

Stretching and waiting to dance... and for the bus.

While a dancer waits to go onstage, she stands in the wings, preparing for her entrance. She mentally reviews the choreography and timing and the emotion she is to convey. She continues to move to keep muscles warm, supple and ready for action. She is alert. Waiting is not passive. It is eager and anticipating. Waiting in the wings is significant as it determines what happens onstage.

Up next: Africa saves the day. Again.

xoxo

J

Small victories

2012 has been a bit of a rough ride so far.

About mid-January, I started experiencing pain in my joints. It started pretty specific, mainly in my knees and in of my hand knuckles. I didn't go to the doctor right away. I began regularly taking ibuprofen for inflammation and I bought joint supplements. I also {mistakenly} started doing research on WebMD... not that WebMD is bad in and of itself, but if you're like me you start reading about one illness after another and suddenly you've diagnosing yourself with all kinds of problems. I since have cut myself off from WedMD.

Oh the pain! Strangely, it migrates around... my left elbow one day, my right wrist another, my left shoulder on yet another, then a couple days later the other shoulder, the middle finger in my right hand, the pinky toe joint of my left foot... Some days are so bad that it hurts to simply walk, write my name or put on my coat, let alone dance.

So, what the heck is going on?? Still don't know. I finally went to the doctor and his initial assessment was arthritis. This might seem crazy as I'm not old but it's a legit possibility. My dad has rheumatoid arthritis, as did my grandmother, so the genetic predisposition is there. But he wasn't entirely convinced as my symptoms are asymmetrical and inconsistent - arthritis usually starts in the small joints such as the hands or feet, not the knees, and are equally on both sides of the body. So he ordered some blood tests. He tested me for all kinds of things, including lupus and a bunch of other things I'd never heard of. My blood work was normal. Well, the rheumatoid factor was the highest out of all, but it's still within the "normal" range. Now he's sending me to a joint specialist to see if he can figure me out.

I have three and a half more weeks of waiting until that appointment. The specialist was booked six weeks from when I called to make the appointment. Awesome, six more weeks of mysterious pain.

It has been really, really hard dealing with this. Like I said, it's so difficult to even want to dance when simple everyday movement is painful. But I push through. My dad told me that the best thing for arthritis, if that's what it is, is to keep active. So I take my supplements, my ibuprofen, I take my Epsom baths and sleep with a heating pad, and I keep showing up to class. Some days I have to back off and dance lightly, but other days I force a smile as I plié and pirouette. I will not give up.

Everyday in class we do a series of stretches after we've completed all of the barre exercises. In one stretch, we're standing on one leg as our other leg is bent in front of us, resting up on the barre. We then take our foot in our hand, extend our leg forward up off the barre and then bring it around to the side of our bodies. The goal is to hold that leg up at 180° - very few are there. However, ladies and gents, yesterday I pulled my right leg around to the side and it was pretty damn close. Maybe 170°...? I did not expect that but I was so happy. And that little victory made my heart soar above all the pain and frustration I've been dealing with for the last 8 weeks.

I will not give up.

xoxo
J

Ch-ch-ch-changes... Part 2

Part two of our story is bittersweet...

Change #2: School and dance

A couple months ago I think I posted about my money woes and how they affect school... I can't specifically remember, but I only have a short time to write and can't go hunt my archives right now, so let's assume I did. The short of the long of it is that I'm out of money. I'm no longer eligible to receive financial aid and I'm behind on tuition from last year, which means I'm can't register for classes.

Okay. Then in a zippy unexpected twist, about a month ago I received a letter from the university saying that I have a "credit overload violation" for my current degree, which means I'm not allowed to register or receive financial aid. Um, credit overload violation, what?? I was not aware that this even existed. And I'm pretty sure that I should have been warned by someone that this was/is a possibility. Annoying to say the least.

Well, circumstances are what they are and I'm accepting them and figuring out a new plan of attack to keep dancing and training. Of course I'm disappointed. Of course I'm sad to miss out on the adventures and shenanigans that is CSU Dance. Of course I'm frustrated to not complete my goal of obtaining my dance degree. Of course I'm crazy worried about losing technique and strength and flexibility if I can't dance everyday. Dance is not something you can take a semester off from and return 4 months later, picking up exactly where you left off.

BUT.

Its not the end of the world. A bachelors degree in dance is not the end and and be all of being a dancer. You don't need any kind of degree to be a dancer. So I will continue to train and take class and workout and choreograph and take class and train and choreography and take class... so I continue to move forward toward my goals and hopes and dreams. This doesn't mean I give up. It means I forge a new path.

Tune in tomorrow for part trois of the changes trifecta...

xoxo
J

Sweet, sweet soreness

I'm happy to say that I stuck to my guns last night, and despite dinner plans with Mom, I got down to tae-bo business when I got home. No excuses allowed... "I'll be too full from dinner", or "it will be late and I have other things I should do..." I ate small portions and brought the rest home. I got home at 7:30, so it was definitely not too late. And yes, plans to continue organizing my stuff for this weekend's garage sale got sidelined, but I didn't (and don't) care. My mood was a 180-degree turnaround post-workout from the crabbypants I was beforehand. Game on.

It's amazing how quickly you lose it when you don't use it. I was huffin' and puffin' through those kicks and punches, and the stretch session afterward was humbling. But I pushed and breathed through, and today I have some seriously sore muscles to show for it... and I love it! I may be keenly aware of muscles I haven't used in awhile, but I'm one happy li'l camper today.


Tonight I continue my mission and will head to the dance studios to work through ballet barre, Horton exercises (a form of modern dance technique), and any stretching my sore muscles will allow. And then I get to enjoy dinner and a margarita with friends later... life is good.

xoxo J

I just can't, I just can't, I just can't control my feet...

I have this little problem. I'm a very impressionable person, particularly with music. I couldn't live without music. My parents, my brothers, my grandparents... we are all music people. My earliest memories include music in the forefront, including specific songs. Music is playing all the time... in my car, on my computer, at work, in my ears through the iPod... it moves me. Literally, of course, but it also compliments my life. I often think that my life has its own soundtrack, and sometimes I think about actually putting playlists together and saving them to disc (hmmm, future project??).

But I'm waxing poetic... back to my little problem... you see, the volume of a good tune is directly proportional to the likelihood that I'm going to jump outta my seat and bust a' move without even thinking. Not that getting down with my bad self is a bad thing, per se, but there are some places where exercising some restraint is recommended. Like at the office, for example.

[Haha, I just remembered something... once I was in the copy/mail room at work, waiting for a big copy job to finish, so I started rehearsing some steps instead of just standing there. Thinking I was alone, I really busted it out... right as my boss walked into the room behind me. He was quite amused... and I was rather embarrassed. Ahhh, good times at work...]

Anyhoo... I'm doing the 9-to-5 thing this week since I'm on break, and while I appreciate the opportunity to just sit and chill for a change, I need my tunes to get me through the day. This week I've been all about MJ, Janet and The Jackson 5, thanks to This Is It on Sunday. And I realized today that some songs are better played quietly in the office, if I want to avoid causing a scene.

Such as...?? Glad you asked! Here is an abridged sampling of Jackson songs that I have to handle with care, ranging from a slight tease to full on danger (but in no particular order)...

Blame it on the Boogie (I really can't control my feet...)


Billy Jean (oh, she caused a scene all right...)


Dancing Machine (she's super bad now... yes, yes she is...!)


Bad (if I had the time/money, I'd SO rock this shiz for Halloween next year...)


Nasty (Miss Jackson if ya nasty...)


Scream (this was on replay all day today... I'm not going to admit how many times I played it...)


This list is nowhere near complete... but you get the idea. And the majority of today's pop acts...? Please. The only AMA performances that did anything for me (read: made me jump off the couch and shake my money maker or gave me chills) were Janet's and Whitney's. You gotta bring more game than that, Gaga. Boo-ya! (Ooh, someone's got her sassy pants on tonight... nothin' but love, y'all!)

xoxo J

My body hurts... thank god

This is going to be short and sweet, as I'm barely staying awake right now (I'm doing the one-eye-squint-at-the-screen thing), BUT, I wanted to quickly comment on my day of dance adventures...

Taking into account that I'm already sore and stiff, that I keep finding random bruises and bloody toes, I will say that I finally friggin' danced today. Okay, I dance everyday, but I'm usually just tired from a long day, not in full-body pain. I'm def in full-body pain, and it's glorious.

Ummmm, should I be concerned by this mentality???

Now, before you refer me to some nut-house, just know that my Chicago dance boot camp adventure is the bar I'm measuring everything against... see my July archives if you want to read all about it again, 'cause I know you do ;) ... where I was popping ibuprofen like candy and investing some serious cash in those stick-on Icy Hot patches... thanks to Chicago, my mentality now is if I'm not beat up and waddling around in pain, then I ain't dancin'.

Hot diggety, I danced my tookis off today... now where is that ibuprofen bottle??

Popping in...

… but first, some housekeeping. I know I've been seriously MIA from my blog as of late. I think about it and feel guilty about it sometimes, but I trust that most of my bloggy luvvers are cool enough to understand that life happens and sometimes I'm going to be more on the down-low. And then there are peeps who I might have to put in the “hater” category. Someone commented about my absence-of-late on my previous post that got my hackles up a bit. Quote: “...it's like you meet some guy and off you go...” Here's the deal: yes, I have a new fella hanging around, and yes, I'm directing some of my sparse time and energy to him. But you know what?? That's what you do when you start dating someone. You spend time with them. That's how a relationship is developed. And my desire to spend time with a real human being may take priority over blogging sometimes, but that's how it is. Don't be a hater, yo.

Now that that's off my chest, I can update the rest of my cool-like-that bloggy luvvers...

Lots is goin' down in Jessi Town. Of course there is too much to break down play by play, but here are some highlights....

My mind is in the Windy City more and more these days. Does this mean Chi-town is my destiny? Perhaps. But there are many doubts and questions, too... a recent one being could I live through brutal, months-long grey winters?? I have a difficult time as it is when it gets gloomy here for any prolonged periods of time (read: like a week or so). Remember my depressed, whiny rants back in June when Cali was sharin' it's June Gloom with sunny Colorado?? Visit my June archives if you need a refresh. It ain't pretty. I adore the sun. It might get to be 3 degrees in the dead of winter here, but the sun will still be shining, and that keeps the I-want-to-poke-my-eyeballs-out-its-so-cold maniacal thoughts below the boiling point for me.

I've been feeling discontented and restless and impatient and frustrated with dance at CSU – I have a feeling this a big contributor to my creative block, which I'm still friggin' fighting with... I get this sense that I'm approaching some decisions in the immediate future. Earlier this year I started an application to transfer to a different school in Colorado, but upon making CSU Tour Company for this year, along with a couple other things, I decided to stick around. But thoughts of change have been looming again. Changes are happening in the program here, changes that don't really fit into my grand master dance career plan, so I can't help but wonder if the next step is elsewhere... Is it at another school here in Colorado? Is it Chicago? Is it something else entirely that doesn't involved school?? Omg, the thought of not finishing my dance degree freaks me out a little. It challenges my pride and determination to prove all the naysayers who doubted that I mean business back when I started this adventure a couple years ago. But I also know that one does not need a dance degree to be a dancer... SIGH...

The fella... I hesitate to divulge too much here, only because I'm a bit superstitious. I have this thing where I don't like to say too much until something is more official, for fear of jinxing it. So, I'm going to withhold details for a wee bit longer... but know that I'm happy, having fun, and I like this handsome fella, who seems to return the sentiments. He's also a hella-busy college student (getting his PhD!), so we see each other spontaneously when we can. It's def not a “normal” dating schedule. For example, as I settled on the couch last night with some reading, thinking I was flying solo for the night, he surprised me by showing up at my door at 11 pm, saying “get dressed, let's go get a drink!” So much fun - a guy after my li'l adventurous heart! To be continued, I hope... ;)

I could go on and on with the random mess of goings-on in my head, but I must attack the massive to-do list for the day... still miles to go before I sleep, and it's already 4 o'clock in the afternoon...

Hope everyone had a fab weekend!

xoxo Jessi

The case of the missing mojo!

Last week, my dance mojo went missing. I couldn't remember combinations in class or choreography in rehearsals, and the bad case of choreographer's block that I've been fighting for weeks now was still in full force. The mojo was MIA. I started to get a little panicked, but then the second half of the week seemed to get better, so I thought maybe I was just tired and needed a li'l battery recharge.

But then I tried choreographing this weekend, and again, no dice. Panic turned to frustration. Frustration turned to stress. I drove home from the studio last night completely dumbfounded. What the heck is wrong with me? Not only did I feel blocked, but I felt empty inside, with nothing there. Nada. Zilch. ZERO. The well was dry. But I don't have time to wait around for the muse to fill it back up. There are only six weeks until the Student Concert, and I will be out of town one of those weeks. On top of that, rehearsals with one of the semester's guest artists start next week, and those are going to cause conflicts. I have about 6 minutes of music to work with and only about 50 seconds choreographed at this point. [Insert panicked, stressed Jessi here.]

Deep breath in. And out. And try ignoring the stress-numbing sugar cravings... cupcakes? ice cream??

Okay, I have to figure this out. I can't just panic and pout on the couch with Ben & Jerry's... as tempting as that may be... So I started thinking... what inspires me? what gets the creative juices flowing? what revs my mojo?? Chicago, Deeply Rooted... I can't help but keep going back to Chicago. I keep yearning to reattain what I found in Chicago... the ah-ha moments, the growing pains, the no excuses you-get-your-leg-up-there-I-don't-care-how-bad-it-hurts tough love from the choreographers, feeling some serious power onstage during the performance... there in the Windy City I discovered my MOJO...

This missing mojo must be found. But how?? And then I found this... I can't stop watching it, I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop replaying the music in my head...



Their movement. The music. Omigod, their MOVEMENT. I wish I had words to articulate how this piece stirs me... that is exactly how I desire to move. That is what I'm striving for.
Watching this clip (over and over and over) is telling me to go back to what I know and love. Create movement that resonates with me. Stop worrying if anyone will like it or not. Tell my story through my body, not anyone else's. I think the mojo is making it's way back to mama.

Oh, and for those unfamiliar with the nuances of dance, the style they are dancing is modern, with African fused in. So, African modern, really.

And several of you have mentioned wanting to see me dance... I would love to indulge you with a li'l vlog; however, I am video camera-less. Sad day, I know. But stay tuned. A li'l somethin' just might turn up here in the future...

[And P.S. I was tickled by the excited response I got about being back out there dating and the new handsome fella I'm spending time with! Thanks for all your encouragement, it meant a LOT! The quick update: things are going swimmingly so far... we had another date this weekend, a spontaneous one which is always exciting! Maybe there's a post revealing a few more deets coming soon...?!? Only time will tell... *wink*]

xoxo Jessi

It hurts so good

Tonight was the most productive I've been at the studio since I've returned from Chi-town. And it felt so good. It hurt, but in a good way [grinning]. My hamstrings are already sore, and I have a feeling my calves and my entire back will be screaming at me tomorrow. Good. No pain no gain.

I think yesterday's little inspiration explosion set the wheels in motion... I'm starting to have a game plan for my swing choreography, my Student Concert piece is taking shape in my mind (I'm still looking for music, but I think I might have it) and I was incredibly focused at the studio tonight. That is kind of a big deal, as it really is harder for me to be focused and disciplined when working on my own. The more structure I have, in the form of a teacher running a class, the less chance for me to get distracted. Which isn't hard. My attention span sucks.

I discovered the modern technique that feels second nature in my body at the intensive this summer, so I'm really focusing on honing that technique. This is Horton technique. I love it. It stretches and strengthens my body in a capacity I've never experienced before. It hurts like hell. But in a good way [bigger grin]. I just keep going back for more [Cheshire grin].

Someday when I have more energy to write a more detailed post, I'll tell you more about it.

But for now, bed is in my immediate future...

Monday Night Blog Buffet

Welcome to the Monday Night Blog Buffet! Just like a real buffet, you get to sample all the juicy morsels in a variety of choices... bon appetit!

Humidity-D, the allergy cure
There are things I miss about Chicago... like how happy my skin and sinuses were, *le sigh*. I'm a native Colorado girl. Carrying around a Nalgene water bottle, lip balm and lotion are as necessary as oxygen to prevent withering up like a prune in this dry state (and I don't mean liquor - umm, Colorado breweries??). Any "humid" day here causes all of us natives to whine and moan like spoiled children... I thought the humidity in Chicago would near kill me. The opposite actually. My skin LOVED it, and suddenly my allergies were nonexistant. Gone, cured, nowhere to be found! That's nothing short of a miracle, considering I have the worst allergies known to womankind. Well, sweet. I guess the sinus surgery I discussed with my doc back in May can be put on hold... indefinitely. Apparently I just need to move to a humid place. I don't even want to discuss what my skin has been doing for two straight weeks. FREAKING the F out, yo!! No amount of lotion or oil is soothing it. I've been drinking water by the gallons (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but still...) Hey, um, skin?? I don't graduate for another year and a half (if I'm lucky), so we're kinda stuck here for a little while longer, so throw me bone, huh??

No excuses!
At some point over the weekend I decided that it's time to step it up and get my little behind into the studio every night after work. The semester starts in two weeks! I'm not going to stay in shape and maintain my sweet physique (haha) by sitting around all day and night. Enough lollygagging around and no more excuses for me... "I do better in a formal class... I have this and that to do... I'll go tomorrow..." If I could crank out 6+ hours each night in Chicago, I can get myself into the studio for at least a couple hours. One of the many lessons I learned in Chicago was, where there's a will, there's a way.

Craigslist
... can suck on it. I'm so frustrated. Just like before leaving for Chicago, I'm trying to sell some things for some quick cash. Cash I really need. Like now. Well, out of the blue, I've been getting spam email about my items... LOTS of it! Each time I open my inbox there are 10 or so emails, and each one of them is crap... "Did you lose your job or are you in debt? I can help!" "Do you need help with your bill?" "Do you need assistance with your financial situation?" OMG!!!!! Not one email has been a bonafide person interested in buying my stuff. Awesome. I'm pulling my ads tomorrow and going to sell stuff the old fashioned way... putting up posters in my apartment building. And eBay. Take that, craigslist!

Scholarship hunting
... is as much fun as the dentist. For a non-traditional, second-bachelor's candidate performing arts student, it's slim pickin'. I always hear about the thousands upon thousands of unclaimed scholarships out there, but I'm starting to think it's just an old wives' tale made up to sucker us. My usually positive self gets realllllly discouraged when it comes time to hunt down financial aid... it's like going to the dentist to get fillings without drugs. Good times!

Time flies
Work zipped by today, which was positively glorious! I'm praying/crossing my fingers/making sacrifices to the 9-to-5 gods that the rest of the week is the same...

School shopping
I'm not talking leotards and tights here people. The fall fashion in the magazines and online have pulled me in hook, line and sinker. I'm enamored with some of the trends for fall... as I usually am, I LOVE shopping at this time of year... AND I'm inwardly gloating that some of them are my old stand-bys... um, grey eye shadow? Been there done that. Grey the "new" neutral? Oh honey, been rockin' the grey for years... And the rich, jewel colors are deelish and a good balance to all this grey... I'm not quite ready to give up our hot summer weather, but a part of me is excitedly anticipating when I can bust out some fall fashion goodness.

Well, I'm stuffed. Check please!

Adventures in Chicago: Recap of Week One

Hello my bloggy friends! How I missed you so...

I'm sorry for my disappearance last week. I was so exhausted and sore and in shock over all the information that was being thrown at me that I just didn't have the energy to write updates about my adventures. I would go to class around 5, get home around midnight, eat and shower, get to bed around 1:30, and be completely unable to get out of bed at any reasonable time the next day. When I would finally drag myself out of bed, I would stumble around the apartment like zombie for a few hours, not accomplishing much beyond eating and psyching myself up for another beating, before having to leave for class and start the process all over again. But after a weekend of rest and recharging, I'm starting to feel like a normal human being again!

So yeah, it was a rough first week. I started off very excited about the company and what the four weeks would entail. Then classes started and I got a full-on, merciless, take-no-prisoners dance smack down. In the middle of the first night I wanted to cry and walk out. I kept saying to myself, what the hell am I doing here? I can't do this! I shouldn't be here! The second night was just the same.

I remember one of the teachers asking my class if we were having fun, and I wanted to scream "NO!" That's honestly how I felt, and it made me so, so sad. I wasn't having fun, and I was supposed to be having fun! I had been so excited for this summer adventure because I was banking on having a great time, learning a lot, networking, etc.

Well, the week got better, because I was determined to not let my time here be four weeks of misery. It hit me one night as I wearily rode the train home that I don't want to go back to Colorado and tell everyone that my experience was "just okay". Lame. SO lame. I realized that what I get out of this experience will be what I put into it. Of course that's easier said than done, and it's a process, but at least I'm conscious of this and I'm working on it.

And I sure as hell am learning A LOT... I'm learning that summer intensives are no joke. [I'm not really sure what part of "summer intensive" I overlooked, but this isn't easy breezy summer camp.] I'm learning that in the real dance world, you have to turn your brain on the second you walk into that studio. They give you choreography and expect you to pick it up instantly, with little to no explanation, breaking it down, etc., on their part. If don't get the moves and sequence, you don't get the part. I'm learning that you can't take ANYTHING for granted. Nothing. You can't be lazy, you can't be distracted, you can't be worrying about what the other students might be thinking about you. You can't hold back. You can't get by with doing anything half-assed, thinking it's enough, because they see through all that BS. I'm learning that you can't just regurgitate the movement they give you, but you have to put emotion and feeling behind it for it to be real and believable. I'm learning that impeccable technique and the facility to kick your leg up to your head doesn't mean a damn thing if you are dead and empty onstage. You have to be present in every second. I'm learning that I am babied and sheltered at school and if I'm going to make it in the dance world, I'm going to have to step up my game 200%.

And thus I begin week two. My knee jerk reaction is to be nervous and afraid of another hard week, and to want to dive back under the covers and hide. That's not an option, of course. So here I go.

Welcome to Chicago! Part 2

Yesterday was the first day of the Summer Intensive at Deeply Rooted Dance. All my classes and rehearsals are in the evenings from about 5:00 to 11:00 p.m. Last night was registration, placement and orientation.

I was SO nervous for the intensive all day yesterday. I was convinced that I didn't do enough before leaving to prepare physically, and I anticipated getting my butt served to me on a platter in the placement auditions. It didn't help that I've had this little cold, and yesterday I was feeling dizzy and loopy because of stuffed up sinuses. I think, too, that I was expecting this competitive atmosphere like the So You Think You Can Dance auditions I watch on TV. That scared me, too, because my nerves sabotage me bad enough without the added pressure of other dancers acting snooty and competitive.

I made my way downtown (D lives northwest of downtown) to find the studios. I left really, really early to give myself time to find it in case I had trouble or got lost. Glad I did, because I walked up and down Wabash Avenue looking for the darn address. I remembered something about DePaul University, but couldn't remember if the studio was near or inDePaul, so I went into the School of Law building to ask the security guard. When I asked him if there were dance studios on the third floor, he laughed and said no. I then asked where 218 Wabash was, and pointed in the direction I had started from. Back up Wabash to search for 218. I finally found it and made my way to the third floor.

Deeply Rooted shares their space with Ballet Chicago, so when I arrived, there were ballerinas everywhere. I asked the lady at the desk for Deeply Rooted, and she directed me down the hall and to the left in the back. I got there and told them who I was, and K, the education coordinator for the Intensive, came over and gave me a big hug. I felt SO much better! I couldn't believe the warm welcome - she didn't know me beyond my name and the handful of emails we've exchanged since January. It was just what I needed to calm my nerves.

As other Intensive students trickled in, I met some other students and we chatted as we stretched and prepared for the placement. We were all nervous, but we tried to relax because we were already in the Intensive. The placement was just to put us in a level that matched where we each are, since Deeply Rooted's Intensive is for all levels.

We started the placement with ballet, and it wasn't too bad! The instructor is trained in the Russian Vaganova technique, which I study at school. That helped me relax because I was familiar with it. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt good about my ballet performance! Then we did modern, which had African movement to it, which is what this company is about, which is why I was interested in them in the first place. It was fast and challenging, but I LOVED it and I felt good because I could do the African movement. I'll find out what level I'm in tonight in class.

After placement was orientation, and it was during this time that I was reminded why I chose this company for a summer intensive. Let's see, how do I sum it all up...??? They have a very holistic approach to dance, and they couldn't stress enough that our time here (and in all our dance experience, really) is a process. Being present is so important, and if we remain open, we will learn so much about what we can do rather than what we can't. We will each grow as dancers, as artists and as members of the community at large. The artistic director emphasized the importance of bringing open, positive energy to the studio. One of the teachers told us to relax... they don't view us as cattle or dance-bots that they're trying to make all dance and look the same. They see each of us as individual human beings, each with something to bring to the group and to give onstage.

WOW. I LUV this company... I love their approach, their aesthetic, their philosophy... it's what first grabbed me about the company when they taught a master class at CSU last year in the spring, and it's still exciting me. I am SO excited to be here!!

On the flip side, they also stressed that while they consider us to be part of the Deeply Rooted family this summer, that doesn't mean they aren't going to make us work, challenge us, ask us to reach deep inside to give more than we thought we could. So, the potential of my butt being served to me on a platter is highly likely. Guaranteed, really. And with that, it's time to get ready for six hours worth of class and rehearsal - gotta gather my tights, leotard, ballet shoes, and snacks and water galore. Wish me luck!