Last week my friend’s outdoor shed got broken into at 430 am. There was nothing of value in it, some sticks for kindling for her fireplace, an old disused manual lawnmower. The night visitor must have been very disappointed indeed. I thought to myself, what if something else, something totally unexpected would have been there… waiting.
Like Martin Luther King sitting on a stool, or Mother Teresa, or…. his Mother?
But it was empty, which is perhaps a more telling metaphor. And yet it begs the question- at what stage does the activity of going into someone’s back garden uninvited in the night with a hatchet and crowbar become acceptable?
We might suppose the individual is poor and desperate – and this is probably true. They thought there must be something of ‘value’ in the locked cupboard that they could sell. Most probably this violation is just another step down the path he started on long before…
I’ve never heard of a dancer committing a crime – of any nature. I can imagine if you were to troll through crime statistics you’d be very unlikely to find any dancers at all.
And yet we are one of the poorest paid of the professions (probably not far off from poets). In the arts world we have the least amount of financial subsidy and yet, ironically, require a tremendous amount of resource. Somehow we manage.
But we don’t commit crimes. As a matter of fact we often seek to prevent them via work done in communities.
Chris McNulty was interviewing me for a follow up piece to ‘Pictures from the Broomielaw’ the other day. He asked if I had one story, one experience from my nearly 500 days of dance that stood out from all the others. And as my head raced through the 100s of encounters and days, weather patterns, and dances I could not choose one. I said, ‘No, not one, they’re like my family. I can’t possibly pick one, they’re all important to me’.
Perhaps therein lies a truth. I haven’t considered crime as a way ‘out of my situation’ because I’m so invested within a community of individuals and consequently are they, in me. This translates into a deeper commitment to my vocation of being an artist. I will do and sacrifice everything for a greater good, but funny enough I am consistently supported when I make that choice. And I don’t want… for anything. And I am happy… for the most part.
For I have meaning in my life, and I can only assume for that boy, it was not the same.
And hence, the shed was empty.
Mayhaps it’s time for us all to fill our sheds with things of genuine value.
12 years ago today I moved to Scotland! Today also marks my Mom and Dad’s 43rd Wedding Anniversary (Happy Day Mom and Dad!). And one year ago today I began my Sunrise cycle of dancing – dancing for other people’s wishes for 72 subsequent sunrises. Not to mention it is also the Old Scots New Year, before the calendar was changed in the 17th century.
Quite a significant day really!
So I’ve been working on my tax return for the 2010 year that begins the 6 April 2010. It marks quite an important year, as that was when I initiated my Broomielaw dances, and my life took on a whole new meaning. Not just for me, but for countless others as well, hence me writing a book on it ‘Hope Dances’. In spite of great personal challenges, matched by stresses across the globe, I managed to create something truly miraculous from nothing.
It is worthy of remembering.
And yet from reviewing my tax information, I only made £3377.30 in that year (three thousand three hundred and seventy-seven pounds and thirty pence!?!). I would have done better signing on. To be sure, I expected to make more (in the range of £12,000 which is still not putting me in the category with Donald Trump) but bad luck, communication, circumstance did not allow that to happen. This paltry amount of income wins me no status, no prizes in the current view of the Western world.
And yet I still created.
For me, as an artist, it’s tied into the idea of service. How do I serve the world with my gifts? I can imagine that I’ve got a pile of treasures inside of me but unless I present them into the world – like on a golden platter, they rot.
Too often we wait for permission to do things, and once we get the permission we wait for validation. But these permissions are very narrowly defined and often managed by fear. In the arts world, it’s whether we get funding or not, we get supported by one of the ‘approved’ agencies, or get critically reviewed by a very select group of individuals in periodicals of note. And whilst these things have value it’s only a very small part of the tapestry.
It’s like we’re standing at a street corner and waiting for the light to turn green. In the meantime there is no traffic for miles, it’s raining, snowing, hailing, there’s gunfire and you have to go to the toilet but you will not be moved across that junction until the light changes. It’s a simple activity crossing that road, but doing so would negate rules, that don’t always serve you. Or conversely, the light is green but you can quite clearly see a flesh-eating monster on the other side, and yet you cross.
These are the impracticalities, nay the idiocy I see of the systems that we develop, we get trapped in them and we lose a huge opportunity to serve the world and be our best selves, and to be happy.
But to do that we need to open our eyes and see when it’s time to cross the road, and to do so with open arms and heart ready for what may come.
So Happy Anniversary to me, my Mom & Dad, and Scotland!
With that I leave you with the very beautiful documentary film by Benoit Moulanier, ‘Scotland Dances’. Please share with all your networks. Quite tragically Glasgow City Council has decided to build pubs on top of my former dancing space, despite community opposition that will be a tremendous loss to the local community.
As I’m still here, looking for any and all paying work – dancing, performing, writing, teaching, presenting, consulting et al…. Any ideas/leads appreciated!
DAYTON OHIO
I am currently putting together an application for the Blue Sky Project in Dayton Ohio, the residency runs over the summer time and is community based. Does anyone know anything about Dayton? I’d appreciate any insights into the local community, as am gaining a lot of info from the web, but a personal viewpoint would be great.
DANCE(S)PACES TODAY
I’ve been continuing with my testing of dance studio spaces in gyms, current reviews can be read here:
Really pleased to present another film by the Band Doctor Flaxman!
Filmed just North of Aberdeen
Also by Doctor Flaxman the following story
‘Kate’
I first met Kate when she was in her thirties.
She had red lips, black hair, brown eyes, pale skin and she moved differently from almost anyone I’d ever seen or anyone I’d ever met.
She’d spent the last 10 years building a joy machine inside her belly.
The machine was made entirely from moving mechanical parts – Kate didn’t have time for steady state electronic components, nothing fancy, nothing electric – metal only was the rule.
The machine was fuelled by dreams, conversations, memory, friendship, movement, love, experience and time.
Sometimes others helped build the machine.
It was jam packed full of springs, sills, rivetted iron panels, closed cycle loops, valves, clocks, tin cladding, filters, feedback gauges, pistons, cast iron levers, gears, baffles, stabilisers and very thin sheet metal.
It’s inputs were many and varied.
It had only single outputs, know as ‘joy pellets’.
The joy machine manufactured 100′s of these joy pellets in a 24 hour period.
The pellets were fired often, they moved very quickly and were rarely visible to the naked eye.
However, on those rare occasions when they were seen, due to some trick of the light or captured by high speed photography, the pellets glowed with a deep orange hue and like petrol on water, they reflected brightly the colours of the rainbow on their outer shell.
Kate would ‘zap – zap and zapzap’ people with these pellets.
The pellets had a 97% success rate and rarely missed.
The pellets would ‘zap’ from her eyes or ‘zap’ from her pointing index fingers – known to Kate as her joy guns.
The pellets would ‘infect’ dogs, small children, teenagers, mice, men, women, birds, small babies and the blind, no one was immune.
A joy pellet could hit you at anytime.
Being a ‘Philly gal’ , Kate also had a ‘don’t fuck with me’ machine.
For the most part and for good reason, Kate tended to work on this machine on her own.
Here’s what’s happening in the world of DeemingDreaming this week!
EDINBURGH OUTDOOR DANCE GROOVES
Sunday 8 January 2012 NOON
We’ll be meeting outside the Ocean Terminal Doors in Leith at NOON, bring yourself, some music for your ears and your own personal groove to add to the mix! (it’s Elvis’s Birthday so let’s Shake Rattle and Roll)
ANNOUNCING:
DANCE(s)PACES TODAY
I’ve decided to begin a dance blog/review of spaces for dancing. As you know I’ve danced nearly 500 days outside in all weathers, and have become a bit of an expert at articulating good spaces for dancing. Read more here:
Last week my friend’s outdoor shed got broken into at 430 am. There was nothing of value in it, some sticks for kindling for her fireplace, an old disused manual lawnmower. The night visitor must have been very disappointed indeed. I thought to myself, what if something else, something totally unexpected would have been there… waiting.
