expression. begin

fly away…..

Today I wanted to mentally once and for all officially accept my fellowship to go to India starting in September. I received the fellowship. I received the blessing of my siblings. My friends are all excited for me. My boy Chris supports my decision to go, which means the world to me. And so, to top it all off, I wanted to make sure my parents could grapple with their daughter being on the other side of the world for a year. Then I could begin to think about my own decision as well….

So I decided to sit down in Riverside park during my lunch break. Naturally I called my mother first, because she is always the most hesitant about these types of things. She brought up normal motherly concerns: “Doesn’t Mumbai have even more mosquitoes than New Delhi?”, “What type of malaria pills work best for you?”, “Will you come home for Christmas?”, “What exactly are you doing there again?”, and “When can we come visit you??”. But she eventually let me go saying she supported me and that, yes, I could give my official response to AIF, because she wasn’t going to change her mind.

Then I called my Dad. He said typical Steve Stricker things, like “well this is exciting!…. Isn’t it???!, Isn’t it???” And pretty much just said he was fine with it.

Then he said he had something else to tell me. Apparently on Sunday when he was in the kitchen cleaning out my bird’s cage he kept the back door open as he always does when he’s cleaning out the bird cage because it makes a big mess.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with my bird, her name is “The Bird” and she is a senegalese parrot who is extremely loud and likes to dance. She is so loud that when I talk to my parents on the phone I always know when they’re home because I can hear her squawking in the background. And she dances to music with my dad- bobbing her head, doing figure eights, and turning around in circles. I got her when I was young but became afraid of her sharp beak when she bit my ear one day and decided I could not quite handle her. So my Dad took over her care and they became good pals. It was more of a one sided relationship because the bird loved my dad more than anything else in the world (parrots do this because they bond to single mates in the wild their whole lives). But everyday when my dad came home from work the parrot would start dancing and squawking until my dad would pet her head. She loved my dad, and my dad (who has always had a fascination with unusual animals) loved The Bird.

We had always clipped The Bird’s wings when she was young cause she would fly into things but stopped after it seemed like she didn’t really know how to fly. And since she never left her cage or my father’s shoulder after a while it didn’t seem so important.

But on Sunday The Bird took off.

The Bird flew straight out of the kitchen over massive redwood trees in our yard, over our neighbors house and just kept flying towards downtown Mill Valley. My dad -panicked- ran out onto our back porch, around the house and out onto the street. The Bird with her bright green wings and orange chest was easy to see in clear sky but she just kept going…. faster and faster until she disappeared behind massive pines in the distance.

Apparently she could fly, and now she was gone; She just up and left us.

Although I am sad I will most likely never see The Bird again, I can’t help feeling as though that last flight my bird took meant something. According to my Dad, “she seemed so excited that she could fly so fast and so high she just kept going faster and higher.” Perhaps this was one of the most satisfying moments in her life- out of her cage, soaring over trees, disappearing into the sky.

I took it as a sign. That although I love my life in the here and now: New York, my family, my boyfriend, my friends, my dance, my apartment, my job…. sometimes you just gotta let it all go for a while and do whats right for you in the moment. Its not that I’m leaving because I have to, but maybe just because I can. Because I can fly, literally on a plane to India. I can stretch my wings like I’ve never done before- climb higher and higher, faster and faster- and fly away.

Rehearsal

As a choreographer rehearsal is one of those things you come to live for… And die for. You get so nervous about preparing material one week you think your brain is going to explode or you think you might- just might- have a nervous breakdown (probs not, but if your hyperbolic like me you def think you might). And then the next week youre free as a bird not a care in the world because you know what your doing- and you’ve done this all a million times before- haven’t you? Or maybe not, maybe you’ve never really done THIS before. Never tried this weird blob of a thought in your mind you want to make into something concrete- something you can put on a body….and someone else’s body not even your own. But this is the “practice”, the “meditation”, the “process” we’ve all been harping about that is so “enlightening”. Or is it? What if the thought that it must be a struggle just limits your ability to see the bigger picture? What if it was fun? Wouldnt the happiness of it open up your mind? If the stress disappeared you could actually think, right? What if you could make the analytical conceptual gloom weighing you down a light fluffy cloud of knowledge and empowerment. I’m not saying we should stop being conceptual, stop being real, stop asking “why?” “how?” but let’s all try to also bring in some love, eh? It wouldn’t kill us….

Here’s a personal case study: Last weekend leading up to rehearsals I decided to put myself into lockdown mode and “chill” in a cafe for 5 hours to process ideas, recordings, and notes I have been hoping to put into this piece. I sat worrying, over thinking, and not contextualizing my thoughts (Bc I didn’t have my dancers bodies to experiment w or their brains to discuss the work w). By the time rehearsal came around I was exhausted, defeated and nervous. I had also neglected to remember that one of my dancers couldn’t even come to rehearsal that night and did not remind my other dancers that we had switched studio locations. So, of course, only one of my dancers showed up. And my brain was mush. I went home and started cooking dinner and literally began crying w tears running down my face as I placed stuffed peppers into the oven. Not productive.

This week I found out that I was accepted into a fellowship program to work in india for ten months starting in september. I was so distracted with processing this amazing but crazy news that I completely stopped worrying about my upcoming piece- what previously seemed like a “grand finale” upcoming show. Maybe bc the piece no longer seemed like “the only thing i had going for me.” It took the pressure off. And this week with an open mind and open mouth (i started discussing and showing my work to fellow dancers bc I’m no longer self conscious about it) I’ve had the most insight in my two month “process” leading up to this work then ever. It was all bc of the perspective- I climbed out of my mental cave and rejoined the world.

But how can I sustain this?- especially if I want to be a choreographer and so I might not always have something else “going for me”- the work is the “going”- this is IT- my “life” how can I make my choreographic process itself what inspires me?

A few weeks ago I joked to some of my dance friends that my “choreographic process” consists of the following: felling so nervous I might vomit, feeling so stressed I might vomit, repeating these feelings, sustaining them for weeks and then BOOM one fated moment of insight when everything becomes clear right before the show. This joke resonated with me- was this true?

This “method” of choreography is not a practice and not sustainable because I, the choreographer, feel as though I have no control. How can i escape this? I’m not sure…. But I’m looking to find out. I guess this is part of what every choreographer and artists must find on their own. 

But i guess what ive learned is to stop looking sometimes. Bc the information your looking for will come to you somewhere, somehow. And thats what will feel authentic, real- bc you were meant to find it.

So hello world and life experience- thanks for helping me with my piece. I’ll have to mention you in the program.

and i write…

I believe first and foremost that everything in life should be done with passion and purpose. Since graduating from College in May 2011 my life has been filled with interesting adventures, risks, jobs, and learning experiences. In the past year I have been dancing professionally, choreographing original works, volunteering as a development assistant, working as an assignment editor in photojournalism, and exploring options for medical schools and fellowships in India. These are all great- but I’ve also bartended, babysat, dog walked, personal assistant-ed, rode the bus a lot, walked a lot, talked w friends a lot, met new people as often as possible, had intelligent and not so intelligent conversation, spent beautiful time lying in bed with my boyfriend on the weekends, and even watched a lot of TV- these things are great too. Its all relevant and its all important. It will all aid me in figuring out how I want to spend the rest of my precious future here on earth. But it also allows me to be in the present and enjoy the hear and now. Because this is real life- all of it- not just your *%#&ing resume. I dive into disparate worlds without a guide to tell me what my future can/will/should hold. But what direction should I take? Which one is true to who I am? Do I have to choose? I am a creative and hard working young woman who believes the easiest and often clearest path may not always be the answer. I believe my generation of women must stand strong and tall for what we believe and know is possible. Support from one another will allow us to create paths less taken and lives more fulfilled with confidence.