"When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It's to enjoy each step along the way." - Wayne Dyer
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Reminder
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
To the Children That Were in the Audience Tonight
You may very well have saved my career.
Especially you, kid-who-played-air-guitar-during-my-number.
Thank you.
Especially you, kid-who-played-air-guitar-during-my-number.
Thank you.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Lost
There is a phenomenon in the acrobatic arts where abilities and skills suddenly disappear. This is typically referred to as 'losing a move'. There's no particular reason behind it and the lost skill can be one of the trickier moves in the repertoire or something as basic as a simple salto. Skills that were once performed without a second thought suddenly cause the acrobat to freeze, panic, bail, stumble like a rank amateur, or if you're me, all of these things plus crying in a corner.
How long does a skill remain lost? Could be a day, could be a week. Could be longer... Seeing as there isn't usually a clear or even a good reason for the skill to suddenly be unperformable, why would there be a tidy end to the embarrassment and frustration of losing a move?
If you haven't already guessed, I'm currently suffering from a lost move. And if you're particularly clever, you'll even know which one it is as I've mentioned struggling with fear and that move before. Only now, I can't seem to overcome it. In every other city I hem and haw and get all anxious about performing it, but I always manage to do it in the end. But this time...
I spent hours training the day of the run through. I did wheel at three different times in the day in my attempts to do the move. During the run through, I cried for the duration of my act and absolutely gave up mid-way on the way into the move.
The following day, the day of the premiere in this city, I spent an hour and a half training that one single move. The atmosphere started out quite jolly. Then, as I went through each preparatory figure I got more and more nervous. When it came time to do the move, I couldn't even make it past the stomach drop.
By the end, what I felt didn't even really feel like fear. It felt more like there was a very real and tangible wall that I just could not get passed. I would get in position to do the move and give up before the wheel even had a chance to start rolling. At one point, I was in position to do the move and drew a complete blank on how to actually execute it. When you've performed a move literally hundreds of times, suddenly forgetting how to do it is like suddenly forgetting how to walk!
In the end, I had a choice to make. And for the sake of the show, my act and my sanity, there was really only one option. As frustrating and embarrassing as it is, I had to cut the move from my act. I've put in a similar, though simpler, figure.
In order to work through this, I am taking some space from the offending move. I've written to the Wheel God for advice as well as a friend on the Dutch national team. I've been working moves that have nothing to do with the show in order to rekindle the love I know I have for the wheel, but haven't really felt lately. Truthfully, the loss of this move is rooted in something much deeper than fear. And I have some serious digging to do in order to get back up to scratch.
But that's an entirely different post.
How long does a skill remain lost? Could be a day, could be a week. Could be longer... Seeing as there isn't usually a clear or even a good reason for the skill to suddenly be unperformable, why would there be a tidy end to the embarrassment and frustration of losing a move?
If you haven't already guessed, I'm currently suffering from a lost move. And if you're particularly clever, you'll even know which one it is as I've mentioned struggling with fear and that move before. Only now, I can't seem to overcome it. In every other city I hem and haw and get all anxious about performing it, but I always manage to do it in the end. But this time...
I spent hours training the day of the run through. I did wheel at three different times in the day in my attempts to do the move. During the run through, I cried for the duration of my act and absolutely gave up mid-way on the way into the move.
The following day, the day of the premiere in this city, I spent an hour and a half training that one single move. The atmosphere started out quite jolly. Then, as I went through each preparatory figure I got more and more nervous. When it came time to do the move, I couldn't even make it past the stomach drop.
By the end, what I felt didn't even really feel like fear. It felt more like there was a very real and tangible wall that I just could not get passed. I would get in position to do the move and give up before the wheel even had a chance to start rolling. At one point, I was in position to do the move and drew a complete blank on how to actually execute it. When you've performed a move literally hundreds of times, suddenly forgetting how to do it is like suddenly forgetting how to walk!
In the end, I had a choice to make. And for the sake of the show, my act and my sanity, there was really only one option. As frustrating and embarrassing as it is, I had to cut the move from my act. I've put in a similar, though simpler, figure.
In order to work through this, I am taking some space from the offending move. I've written to the Wheel God for advice as well as a friend on the Dutch national team. I've been working moves that have nothing to do with the show in order to rekindle the love I know I have for the wheel, but haven't really felt lately. Truthfully, the loss of this move is rooted in something much deeper than fear. And I have some serious digging to do in order to get back up to scratch.
But that's an entirely different post.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Two Days
That is how long I've been back at work, and already, my legs look like this.
Looking at this picture, I can't help but think of summer contracts and the girls on the show all in skirts and all lamenting the fact that no matter how hard they try to look nice, their legs make them look like they've playing beach volleyball in a gravel pit.
Of course their legs were tanned. I always look like I'm two shades darker than chalk.
I have more bruises than appear in the photo. My legs are just so white that the resulting glare has made them difficult to photograph.
Looking at this picture, I can't help but think of summer contracts and the girls on the show all in skirts and all lamenting the fact that no matter how hard they try to look nice, their legs make them look like they've playing beach volleyball in a gravel pit.
Of course their legs were tanned. I always look like I'm two shades darker than chalk.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Do You Like Horses?
Are you connected to the internet somewhere in Canada?
If so, do I have a treat for you!
The CBC is currently showing a video of renowned equestrian show Cavalia!
The horse has always played a hugely important role in the circus. In fact, the foundation of modern circus has nothing to do with the acrobatic feats we associate with circus today, but with horses and trick riding! It's because of this that a circus ring is 13m in diameter. If you'd like to know more about the origins of modern circus, and it's father Philip Astley, go here.
If you'd like to stop learning about circus history and watch a circus show, go here!
If so, do I have a treat for you!
The CBC is currently showing a video of renowned equestrian show Cavalia!
The horse has always played a hugely important role in the circus. In fact, the foundation of modern circus has nothing to do with the acrobatic feats we associate with circus today, but with horses and trick riding! It's because of this that a circus ring is 13m in diameter. If you'd like to know more about the origins of modern circus, and it's father Philip Astley, go here.
If you'd like to stop learning about circus history and watch a circus show, go here!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
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