Dancing Dreams Smashing Fears

I practice dancing in heels while cooking dinner


I said it. 

Also, Shimi Tree practice probably entails more time around a table snacking then ground pounding to choreographic militant perfection. 

Somehow, it all works out. Somehow, I get on stage and can dance as comfortably as if it was another day in the kitchen. Shimi Tree on stage has the same intertwined trust and harmony that we feel crowding around my pink wobbly table in my tiny West Boise kitchen. 

This way of living, this way of dancing does not exempt me from my form of nerves. They appear after the show. I feel depressed. Worried even. Wracked with despair. Hoping that the message that I intended to express was understood. 

I suppose with a sold out show in Portland, I am relieved. Feel loved by our public. I feel an earnest desire to give all of me this Saturday. April 29th. A desire to be heard. To be understood. As I do everyday, in my kitchen and in the world. I have to do it the only way I know how: Saca mis sentrañas~ pull out my guts as flamencos say.

Today, I am in home with my son, who is tugging at my sleeve as I write this, asking me when I am going to play Mario with him. I won’t have time to practice for the Portland show. After losing several times at Nintendo after toothbrushing, pajama-ing and book reading, I will lay awake at night and think about what I want to say to Portland. I will think of softening around my emotions. All of them. Even the ones that I’m afraid to show. Then I will think of these emotions rushing through and out of me as I orchestrate them into the atmosphere. I will think of being an empty vessel that will fill with the music that my companions play, so that I can paint a picture. Then I will sleep. I will sort it out in my dreams. Then Saturday, I will dance on those dreams. Perhaps dance with my dreams. The good and the bad.

I will work out space to practice my pasos~dance phrases but I probably won’t get very far. So I will go to a local dancer that I love to dance with and feel nourished his calm knowing energy in a genre that is far from Flamenco. I will listen to letras~song verses that inspire me in Flamenco and in other genres. 

I will do this as I drink water. To remind me that these other techniques are like water to the soul. I need to feed, revive, refuel in order to give. As I write this it occurs to me that when I mean give, I mean it in the sense of giving birth. Giving birth to my dreams. Giving birth to dreams that smash my fears. Nerves do not help in this realm. Only constant fuel and hydration. And a deep knowing that I have no control of outside factors when I step into the stage. All I know is my intention. My belief in me. My love for the people that came to see me and the people that I will dance with onstage. I look forward to being completely present. To give birth to the thoughts, the dreams the fears that have been shredding the insides of my belly over the past few months.

Thank you Mitsue Johnson, 3Shine Flamenco, Peña Portland, Luis de La Tota, Guillermo. Thank you Universe and thank you Portland for giving me yet another chance to give.


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