I sat down to write and compile a newsletter and found myself lost.
As an unimaginable horror unfolds on the other side of the country, it’s hard to know how to locate one’s own place in an event that is already being framed as “history.” What are the correct actions to take? Is there anything to do? Is there anything that can be known that wasn't before? How much empathy and in what direction? What does that look like? How does one perceive it?
Bodies pushed to the limit and then subjected to unthinkable violence as they neared the Boston Marathon finish line, a man (nineteen years old) being “hunted,” an uncle citing being “losers” as the source of malicious intent, opportunists tossing immigration reform into the discussion about a completely senseless event.
Sometimes in the life of making, performing, and trying to promote art, I find an intrinsic contradiction – a desire and responsibility to signal, frame, and respond to the world around us but at the same time having to disconnect and disassociate, to live in a vacuum, and keep the work progressing, the promotional emails moving forward.
What do you do to make sense of this?
I’m curious. Really.
I’m celebrating my 36th year on the planet this weekend, embarrassingly mired in my own anxiety about what this means for WHERE I AM AT IN MY LIFE HOW OTHERS PERCEIVE ME WHAT IT MEANS TO BE AN AGING WOMAN LET ALONE AN AGING WOMAN THAT IS A DANCER WHERE SHOULD I LIVE DO I LOVE AMERICA WHERE IS MY COMMUNITY AM I DOING ANYTHING THAT HELPS OR MATTERS OR MAKES ANY SORT OF CHANGE THAT ALLEVIATES PAIN SUFFERING FEAR AM I AFRAID MYSELF.
You know. That sort of thing.
This weekend, I’m taking this (thankfully) well-functioning body as far into the outdoors as possible and far indoors into the interior landscapes of artists I admire (KT Niehoff, Luc Sante, and many others).