Sky spirit of a passionate sun

New website!

2011-02-01T09:28:00.000-08:00

Ok...I know this is not much, and it's definitely not considered "writing"....in fact...it's really just shameless self-promotion.

I finished my new website! WEEEE!!!

www.PassionateSky.com

I promise I'll write something with more substance later. Much to reflect upon.

Personal Truth #5: I Lack Discipline

2010-09-17T22:14:00.000-07:00

Look! I guess I've already missed one day. Good god...I couldn't even make it a week without flaking out. Lol! So there you go. I'm trying, but gosh.

Oh, and correction to Personal Truth #2....I don't actually hate exercising. I think I should classify what kinds of exercise I hate. I think anything that makes me feel like a hamster makes the "don't like" cut. Where is the fun in riding a bike if you don't freaking go anywhere?? The strategically placed fans do nothing to help simulate movement.

Personal Truth #4: Raw Foodism is Amazing

2010-09-15T20:18:00.000-07:00

If you want to read about Raw Foodism, go to www.rawfoodlife.com. Good, solid site. The raw food movement is based off of the idea that our bodies are nourished more wholly by organic food that isn't cooked. When food is cooked, it loses quite a bit or all of its original nutritional value. Another goal of raw foodism is to get one's body back to its original, alkalized state. I, personally, feel more energized when I eat raw.

I'm in love with the idea of being able to live off of the earth without ever having to step into a grocery store again. It's probably not going to happen, but hey, it's a romantic thought. My trapeze partner, Disa, says that her goal is to be able to grow all of her own food. Right on. I resonate with that sentiment.

So for today's blog, I post to you a recipe that I got from Elaina Love's Pure Joy Planet Website:

Raw Energy Soup

1 cucumber (regular sized, not a pickling cucumber)
1 red, orange, or yellow bell pepper
1 ripe avocado
1/2 apple
1 bunch cilantro
1/2 C water (if you want this soup to be warm, use boiling water)
1/2 tsp Cumin
1/2 tsp Himalayan Salt
1 tsp Tamari
Cayenne pepper to taste

Throw everything in a blender, liquify, love.

Personal Truth #3: External Competition is Fear-Based

2010-09-14T22:13:00.000-07:00

Back in 2008 when I was in England, I came across the lightening-fast realization that 1) Competition is a damaging force on my self-confidence and 2) I'm really freaking competitive.

I found that I suffer from an inferiority complex. This complex is magnified enormously when I compare myself to others. And when I dig deep, I discover that my competitive nature arises out of fear. I am afraid of not being adequate, so I feel that I need to prove myself by showing that I am better than the next person.

So for the past two years, I have been trying hard to be on a strict, no-competition diet. It's damn hard. The product of my competitive nature is almost 100% sadness. I become disheartened by not being able to live up to or past the perceived expectations of others.

For now, I making a pursuit of self-development through only besting myself. I'm going to be mean, brutal, ruthless, and I will stop at nothing to win! If I of TODAY can best myself of YESTERDAY, then the trophy is mine and I can go home happy.

Truth

2010-09-13T19:42:00.000-07:00

I've made a list of goals recently. No, it's not New Years yet, though I guess Rosh Hashanah was a couple days ago. Is being with Josh subconsciously turning me Jewish?

One of my goals was to start writing intentionally, regularly. This has been a hurtle for me to overcome, as I find that I write sporadically at best. However, I am going to try to write every day, if only one sentence of significance. And I am going to try something new.

It's no mystery that everybody holds their personal truths. Whether this be the conviction of the presence/absence of a higher power, the belief that opening an umbrella inside spells seven years of doom, or even faith in the magic of tequila in making one's clothes disappear, everyone holds at least one strong conviction. This being said, I want to start writing about my own personal truths. A friend of mine wrote a similar blog entry quite some time ago, and here I follow suit, though I hope that this will be a continuing process. Some of these are self-indulgent, and I urge you to skip them if bored. Actually, come to think of it, blogs in and of themselves are self-indulgent, so...whatever. Call me self-indulgent. Read if you want, or don't. If you do read, however, I hope you will be moved to discover more about your own personal truths and life journey. So here we go.

Personal Truth #1: My personal truths change as my life journey evolves

I cannot speak for others, only for myself. As my time on this earth progresses, I find that I am ever-morphing in all aspects of life: spiritually, physically, attitudinally (look, it's not in the dictionary yet, but it will be, ok?).

In layman's terms, it is this: What I believe today, I may not believe tomorrow. I do not feel this makes me flighty or insincere. In contradiction, I feel that I am ever-examining why I believe what I do, and if these beliefs no longer elevate me to find a higher aspect of my inner being that is beneficial to humanity, then they are to be modified immediately. I strongly feel that this is part of evolution.

Personal Truth #2: If I don't love something, I won't do it

Newsflash (discovered just tonight): I hate exercising. Oh, is this incongruous with being a circus performer? Or perhaps it's oxymoronic that I'm studying to become a personal trainer. I'm just full of paradox.

So here's the story. I decided that I wanted to step my exercise regimen up a notch, which wouldn't be hard considering I would be going from zero up. (I owe you no explanation.)

(Ok ok. I've been slacking on the exercise because I've been lacking serious motivation: dance classes and gym memberships are expensive, and I've been in a bit of a funk. Whine, whimper. I know. Lame.)

So I decided that while I'm spending time in Sierra Vista, I should start going to the gym, as memberships down here are fairly reasonable, and aside from helping mom and studying, I really have no other agenda.

I went to my first spinning class tonight (for those of you not familiar, "spinning class" is where you go into a dark room filled with stationary bicycles, they turn on strobe lights, loud "motivating" music, and you ride until your legs fall off). Here's how the inner dialogue went:

6:30, start of class:
Hmmm...ok. Feeling warm. This is alright. Shit, going up a hill. My legs hurt already.
She's playing Britney Spears, really?!
Keep going! I can do this.
This is boring.
No this is good. Legs are gonna get strong.
Ok, really?! I have to go through an hour of this? Should have gone to Zumba next door.
Go go! A little faster...I can do this!
6:45: Fuck this. I'm leaving.

That's right. I made it through 15 minutes of a spinning class because the pain-to-fun ratio was astronomically out of wack. Did I give up because it was hard? Some may make that judgment which would be met with my complete apathy.

In the larger scheme of things (using the phraseology "pain-to-soul-fulfillment ratio"), this same pattern happened with my office job, my walk with polyamory, and that time when I thought drawing with my feet might be a worthy pursuit (talk about major cramp-age!).

Bottom line: if my soul isn't being fulfilled, fahgeddaboutit.

Love and not so love

2010-06-04T08:13:00.001-07:00

Ok. So out here in the country, there's a thousand things to adore: country roads with optional speed limits, wildlife, cute little shops. What's not to love?

...except, perhaps, country roads with optional speed limits, wildlife, and cute little shops?

I've resigned myself to the fact that at least once a week, I'll either get stuck behind a tractor or a little old granny going 35 down a 55 mph road. I've also recently had my first experience with being hit by a deer. Yes, that is right. A deer ran into my car. Though I laugh at the irony of it now, it was a night of great sadness for me. It is never a laughing matter to compromise life. After three near misses of these beautiful, majestic creatures almost running out in front of my car on my way home one night, I thought I might be in the clear. Nevertheless, I drove slowly. Regardless, I failed to see the doe hanging out on the side of the road, and when I finally saw it, she was already running towards my car. She managed to turn so that her shoulder hit instead of her head, and then she ran off before I could do anything. I take solace that perhaps she survived because she didn't go head-first. Selfishly, I feel fortunate, as she didn't hit my headlight, nor my passenger door. She hit squarely between in a place where only cosmetic damage was caused. Not worth fixing, in my book. I can care less how my car looks.

It was earlier this night that I discovered another wonder only found in small-town life (and England): weird-ass cute shop hours. I headed out on the fabulous 25-mile trek to the nearest coffee shop, eagerly anticipating some much-needed Skype time with Josh. Upon entering, I noted that the shop seemed unusually empty for 6 in the evening. After a brief conversation with the store manager, I was informed that the shop was only open until 8pm on Tuesdays and Fridays, closed on Sunday, and open until 6pm every other day of the week. It was Wednesday. Silly me...should have known to call ahead. So I was directed to the next-nearest coffee shop....10 miles further than what I had just driven. Oh yes...small towns. I still do love thee, but this shall take some getting used to.

Another note on wildlife: we have baby birds hatching left and right in the barn. Flashback to last week:

Disa and I get to the barn, set up the trapeze, and start warming up on the mats. We've become quite good at blocking out the constant chatter of the multitude of birds with whom we share the space. We notice a fluffy blob hopping around off in a corner. We assume it's an injured bird that cannot fly anymore. It starts hopping towards us. As it comes closer, we notice down. It's only a baby. "Aww...cute little thing," I say, "must just be learning how to fly." It takes a few flaps, moves about two feet forward, and lands with a bounce. It continues to cross close in front of our mats. And suddenly, it's no longer a cute fluffy thing. It's now a down-covered monster who's beady little eyes just locked horrifyingly with mine. It lets out an exhilarated SQUWAK and starts erratically bounding towards me. I shriek and run the other direction. Disa dissolves into fits of laughter making no move to save me from impending doom. "It thinks you're it's mother!" she chokes out as she gets up to chase it off.

The next day....

We see our feathered friend up on a rafter. It takes a few jumps, flaps hard, and barely makes it to the next one over. We coo over how it's improved a lot since yesterday. We go about our business setting up our space for the day. We keep a small cardboard box at the barn which holds our various necessities. I wave "hi" to the little one perched nearby as I rummage through the box, pulling out our rigging equipment. And suddenly, I feel it's eyes intently focused on me. It squaks, and I look over my shoulder quickly enough to see it drop from the rafters and dive straight towards me. I shriek and run almost tripping over Disa. It lands in the rigging box...which elicits another long chorus of screams from both me and Disa....Disa screaming less because of the bird, and more because she has a flailing Sora falling all over her trying to get away. It pokes it's tiny head out, wondering what all the commotion is about.

Yay wildlife.

Back to Good

2010-05-22T19:02:00.000-07:00

I'm on a military base being debriefed. Each of us in the room is to be sent to a different part of the world. The general turns to me and tells me I'm going to Japan. "But that's stupid!" I protest. "I don't speak Japanese, and even after I learn it, they're GOING TO know I'm AMERICAN!"

I'm in Japan in a car listening to Rosetta Stone Japanese tutorials on CD. And then I'm in my new apartment complex. I turn to Josh and say some encouraging words about starting our family here. In the lobby of our complex, there's a coffee bar that is open 24/7...and is free to anyone who lives there. Free unlimited coffee...and someone to make it for me any way I want it.

We're in an elevator. It's flying sideways.

I'm in my new apartment. It's a mansion. The people who lived there before left some of their furniture and belongings. We find toys, stuffed animals, and a crib left in one room. Josh and I plan out our bedroom, our baby's room, and then we take a walk in the indoor garden attached to the living room. There's a 100 sq foot black marble slab that has water running over it in a maze-like pattern. I lie down on the water, and it takes me in twists and turns around the enormous room.

I'm in a grocery store. Brian stands next to me. We discover 50-lb bags of Peanut M&M's in individual colors. We contemplate how many bags to get and in what color combination. In the check out line, we discover Mint Cookie Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. We take two.

And then I'm awake. What is the significance of this dream? So far, nothing in the dream itself. However, this is the first awesome dream I've had in years. Ok...being in the military was weird...but other than that...I woke up smiling. Up until very recently, I had been having stress dreams every night...it's been going on for about a year.

Here's to getting back to center.

Zimbi's Water Broke

2010-05-21T18:44:00.000-07:00

Creating this duo trapeze act is like giving birth. It’s painful, sweaty, and it’s next to impossible for us to catch our breath. Ah, but it will be so good!....after we get past this epic labor period. Disa and I have been spending anywhere from 3 to 5 hours at the barn every day. A lot of our practice is trying to figure out how to get from one move to another in interesting ways. SO HARD! I would say about the first half of our act is complete. Every day this past week, I’ve come home bruised, blistered, burned, and exhausted….and every morning, I jump out of bed at 8:30 with excitement in my heart to do it all over again. My brain is at a point where it is next to impossible for it to turn off at night. I just keep hearing our music, seeing our costumes, feeling our movement….it’s so close, I can even feel the heat of the stage lights on my skin and thunderous applause reverberating throughout my body. Dis and I have gotten some strange job offers in the past two weeks, none of which we are all too certain about, but we will see. We realize that beggars can’t be choosers, but perhaps we are not begging quite yet. Is it too much to ask that Josh, Disa, and I get fabulous job offers at the same place and the same time? I am optimistic it will happen (and sometimes a bit scared that it won’t).

A typical training day at the barn consists of us arriving in Disa’s truck, driving up the long, winding dirt driveway, waving as we pass the cows and horses grazing in the expansive field, crossing a stream, and finally parking in front of the barn. We are usually greeted by the farm dog, Jack. Boom box and water bottles are unloaded, and each of us takes a barn door to slide open. For a crash mat, we have been using a large piece of thick foam which we wrapped in a tarp (it used to be a gymnastics crash pad) on top of a mattress. We were given a thin mat with a hole in the middle as an extra bonus with the foam…we put that on top for a little extra padding. All of this is wrapped up in another tarp. So our first order of business is to un-wrap our mats so we have a bird-poo-free space to put our gear. The tarp acts as kind of a safety area where we can walk barefoot. Music and video camera are then set up. We’ve videoed almost every session we’ve had starting in New York. It’s INSANELY helpful. We get instant feedback on what things look like…even though we usually cringe through the entire watching process. The camera is invaluable. It takes both of us to rig the trapeze. Disa takes one side, and I the other. We’ve rigged a pulley system, which makes rigging fairly easy. We tie the ropes off to the massive wood columns on either side. Warm ups and stretching start and then, we’re in it for the long haul. At the end of the day, we de-rig the trapeze, wrap up the mats so that the birds don’t bomb them, and we run away. =)

Whereas for the past year, I’ve been hosting dreams of stress every night, I find that out here, my dreams are peaceful or I sleep dreamlessly. It is magnificent.

Oh…and if you’ve never tried plain yogurt with fresh maple syrup…you need to. Like now.

Victorious day....kinda

2010-05-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Right. Well….so much for cutting down on sugar. I just snarfed down one of Papa Mark’s cinnamon rolls. I couldn’t help it! It was on the counter and just looked…so…delicious! I’m pathetic. I know. Now…what to do with all this extra fat?

Victory for the Zimbies today! We have a track record of a pattern that goes something like this:
“Hey! How about we try _________(fill in the blank) on the trapeze. You know…if we do ______ and then __________, and maybe _________, it should work!”
“Cool!”
*Shuffle, giggle, flail, scream, slam into mat*
“Ok…maybe that didn’t work so well.”

Ah, but today! Today, for the first time in Zimbi history, we thought of a move, tried it, and IT WORKED…on the first try! Now, this is not to say no one’s ever done this before, but we’ve never actually seen it, so we’re calling it ours for now. I mean…I guess it would be ignorant to say we invented it, but we DID figure it out…all on our own! Gold star for us. *Giggle* Ah…feeling like a little child again.

There’s always a small voice inside my heart that reminds me of why I’m here. I’m walking this journey to make a positive impact on society. I want to bring love, joy, light, laughter, and peace to this world in a big way, and so I must remind myself to keep conscious of this mission and not to get so caught up in the everyday chase of The Career. I also know that there’s a lot of work to be done before I’m able to totally give myself to the world….creating a firm foundation of confidence while letting go of ego and fear. And so I put one foot in front of the other. Baby steps. Baby steps.

Farm Life

2010-05-12T21:00:00.000-07:00

Aaaahhhh….country living….where cell phones are replaced by land lines, road rage becomes directed at woodland creatures (though is exponentially small compared to driving in NYC), and making dinner from things found in your backyard is…well…normal.

Life has been like this: Hit the sack at 10ish, wake up around 8:30 or 9. Protein smoothie for breakfast while I sit on a chaise lounge in front of a picture window overlooking expansive grassy green meadows. I’ve missed this. In every residence I’ve had so far (aside from Jersey), I’ve had a giant window to sit in front of while I sip my morning whatever (usually coffee). Then it’s either off to train, run errands, or help out in someone’s kitchen. Somewhere in the middle, we come home, make lunch, maybe take a nap, and then get going again. Night time is for visiting with family, stretching, conditioning, and zoning.

I’m once again on my quest to give up caffeine. I’m also trying to limit my refined sugar intake which means cutting down on sweets…not an easy task with this massive sweet tooth. Been drinking chai tea in the morning along with my breakfast smoothie. The past few days have been in the lower 40’s, so a hot drink is always welcome to chase away the chill. I think because I’ve been replacing caffeine with vitamins and other natural foods to wake up my brain, it’s been quite a bit easier to do than when I was on tour. It’s not easy, though, when Willie and Quitas offer me coffee made from fresh green coffee beans which they roast in front of me. Not gonna lie…I’m weak. What can I say?

I took a Graham technique class tonight. I’ve missed dance so much. It felt amazing to move on the ground again. I find it silly that I’ve been in New York for almost a year, and I still have not gone to any dance classes. I think I’m intimidated. But tonight, my mission was to go into Madison and knock out a class. It was good for my soul…though I was thoroughly lost throughout the entire session. Graham technique makes no sense to me…yet. It think it’s something I’d like to explore further.

Amidst all this beauty, my spirit still struggles to find total peace. I try not to worry about the future, but really, all I want to be doing right now is performing regularly with Disa and Josh as a collective…and getting paid for it. Universe, please send an answer soon. How will we make this happen? I meditated tonight for the first time in oh so long. Getting in tune with my chakras again has become a bit of a rusty process. It was good…but I must remember to meditate more often.

Ok now…some recipes of simple, yet amazing food I’ve had out here so far….compliments of Miss Disa.

Sweet Potato Awesomeness

1 sweet potato
Goat cheese
Garlic
Barley
Tamari

Boil barley until cooked. Slice sweet potato and steam. Mince garlic (or put through press) and mix with goat cheese. Season barley with tamari. Spoon sweet potato slices on top of barley. Top with garlic goat cheese. Eat and be happy.

Power Smoothie (about one cup)

½ cup frozen blueberries
½ cup frozen strawberries
½ banana
Handful of spinach (you don’t taste it…but you get the nutrition!)
Orange juice (to taste)
Yogurt drink (I recommend Keifer…or just used yogurt….to taste)
Soy milk (to taste)
1 tablespoon soy protein powder
1 teaspoon spirulina or Trader Joe’s Very Green Powder
2 teaspoons raw cacao powder (AWESOME superfood…and makes your smoothie taste like chocolate!)

Berries and banana first (if you want one cup of smoothie, use one cup of fruit…it’s a good guide) Make sure liquids completely cover fruit. Add powders last. Blend. Love.

Coma

2010-05-09T14:44:00.000-07:00

I lied down for a nap last night with the intention of waking up a couple hours later and being productive. 15 hours later, I opened my eyes once again.

I think my body is still getting used to “farm time”….and maybe farm life in general. I woke up ridiculously early (5 am) to be out the door at 5:45 yesterday. Went to farmers market with Disa and her dad where they spent the day selling the most amazing basil products you could imagine and decadent freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Please visit their website: www.renfarm.com.

On Friday, Disa and I spent the day with Willy and Quitas…a cheesemaking family, full of life and good energy. We spent the morning and part of the afternoon bagging cheese curds, rotating cheese wheels in the cheese cave, and filling our bellies with the most delicious cheese possible. I was in heaven. While Dis and I were in the cheese cave rotating cheese wheels, we made it a mission to get in rhythm with each other. More training on a non-training day. =)

More stories to come!

Utopia

2010-05-05T06:43:00.000-07:00

So much has come to pass since I last wrote. I ended tour with Cole Bros, went to Arizona to visit the family, came back to New Jersey, and continued working for National Circus Project. Disa came out at the beginning of February and stayed with Josh and I until mid-April. We created a duo lyra act together in a matter of two weeks, of which we are proud. Yet we struggled with doubles trapeze. It’s so much harder when the bar is set higher (no pun intended). With new and higher expectation came more frustration. But having a new goal has hardened our determination. My relationship with Josh has become deeper and more profound, and I feel that I am the luckiest girl in the world to have found someone with whom I can laugh every minute of the day. He has made me grow and has taught me not to be so serious all the time.

And now…now I have had to leave my beautiful boyfriend for a month. But it is bittersweet, as I feel I have entered utopia. After a refreshing visit to Cleveland, I drove out to Spring Green, Wisconsin to be with Disa. I have been here about 48 hours and I think my body has gone into shock. Where there were once sirens, screaming people on the street, honking horns, and car alarms, there are now birds, spring peepers (little frogs), wind breezing through the trees, and the distant sound of rushing water. I feel like I am staying at a resort. So far, I have only seen one tractor pass by, and the only cars I have seen have been driven by Disa’s papa and stepmother. I don’t even have to lock my car out here. In fact, Disa, nor anyone in her family, know where their house key lives. I have been so sleepy since arriving, but I attribute that to the intense shift in environment. Within the first few hours of arriving, I had already romped out in the garden barefoot, eaten wild violets, munched on cheese curds, picked asparagus from Disa’s garden, and been adopted by the family’s dog. It’s so good having a fuzzy friend around again.

Yesterday, I finally got to see our new training space. Disa’s family’s friends own a barn that has not been used in over a decade. They were ecstatic to let us rig our trapeze inside and train until our heart’s content. It only came with one condition: in order to make the space usable, we would have to first clean it out. With trepidation, I surveyed the massive building. This was going to be no easy project. Hay was piled amply, and you could see droppings, mixed with a couple bird skeletons, mixed with piles of dead beetles strewn about the ground. So, with dust masks on and shovels and brooms in hand, we tackled cleaning out 12 years of debris from within. Surprisingly, only three hours (and 11 garbage bags full of poo later), we have a clean space. Ta da!! We then took the bags and dumped them in Disa’s garden as mulch and fertilizer. On the farm, EVERYTHING can be recycled. =)

Today we went into Madison (about an hour drive from Disa’s house). We got our rigging rope cut down to size, decided on the final bits of fabric needed for our costumes, and got smoothie fixings for the rest of the week. Protein smoothies have become an essential part of my diet, and I’m happy that the same goes for Disa. Being that Disa and her dad are vegetarians, I plan on eating mostly veggie while I’m out here which I’m very much looking forward to.

On an unrelated note, I feel that I am becoming more connected to the universe again. At least, I feel that I am listening more now.

Today, I walked into an REI store in Madison (to get our rope cut). A sales associate started talking to me and eventually asked where I was from. “Jersey,” I told him.

“Ah, I’m from that area. I’m from New York…well, not NYC, but the area.”
“Where, exactly?”
“The Fingerlakes.”

Bang. There are just some moments where chills run up your spine. Josh and I have been looking into a property on the Fingerlakes, but I have been timid about acting upon it. So for the next half-hour, I spoke to him as he told me about how beautiful and perfect it is up there: stunning lake, wineries, only half an hour away from Ithaca. Being that I’ve seen how perfect it is that Disa lives 30 minutes away from civilization, I think I’m sold. I just hope it’s still available when I get back to New York. If it’s not, it’s ok. Many more options out there. Oh, but how I hope! =)

I suspect my time out in Wisconsin will be learning how to center again. I think I am well on my way. Disa’s house is perfect for this pursuit. There are large windows everywhere so I can easily look out into the bright colors of nature. In fact, none of the windows in the basement have curtains on them. This is where Disa and I sleep…and how amazing it is to wake up in the morning to such a picturesque view!

I also have no cell phone reception and no internet access (at the moment). The cell phone reception can’t be fixed, but we are working to get my computer connected to Disa’s server. Hopefully soon.

Reset

2009-09-18T11:27:00.000-07:00

Wow. I received a text from one of my friends that said "1 month, 10 days". One month, ten days what? Oh...since I've last written. I've been off the writing train. Time to hop back on.

Since I've last written, we've been in and out of New Jersey, over to Delaware, into Pennsylvania, down to Maryland, FURTHER down to South Carolina, and now we're in Georgia. Phew! My life has been evolving in astounding ways, and I wish I could write about it all right now. But I can't. Little bits.

Metaphysical discovery: I create my world. You create your world. Being that we're all of the same energy, we are creators of each others universes, which makes us one and the same. Chew on that for a little bit. I still am.

Life discovery: No matter how hard I try, some people cannot be taught to be happy. Some people just prefer being miserable. Nothing more I can do. And I refuse to give my energy up to black holes.

I was driving from Dalton, Georgia to Hampton, GA last night. I saw three distinct signs along the road: A restaurant named "Cleveland", an "Ohio" street, and an Ohio license plate of a car that changed lanes in front of me. I wonder what that's all about.

If you couldn't tell from my writing, my thoughts are a bit scattered and all over the place right now. I think a nap is in order before shows today. Off I go. More meaningful stuff later.

Mays Landing, NJ

2009-08-06T09:14:00.000-07:00

The elephants are living right behind my trailer on this lot and it makes me happy. They’re beautiful animals. There’s a lot of hype around animals in the circus. But here’s the thing about elephants: they’re smart animals. If they don’t want to do something, they don’t. There was one abusive animal trainer on another circus some years ago and during the show one day, an elephant rolled on top of him while he was riding it. This isn’t the only case of elephants killing their abusive trainers. And according to the trainers I’ve talked to, elephants get depressed in the off season when they’re not performing. Awwwww.

I’m becoming friends with a guy who helps out with the ponies and camels. His name is Joel. I’m grateful for his presence on the lot, as he is much into the same nutritional style as I and he has similar views when it comes to metaphysics and our place in the universe. We share dietary secrets with each other like Camu Camu juice and Himalayan salt. My soul has been begging for someone with whom I can share these interests. Thank you, universe. He just lent me a book by Francis Scovel Shinn. It’s actually four books in one. I’m only a few pages into it, but already, I’m astonished. The first book is called “The Game” and it was written almost a hundred years ago. She writes from a Christian perspective, but it’s a Christian perspective that has a firm grasp on the Law of Attraction. Crazy. Have you read “The Secret” yet? This book came out only a couple years ago, and was a bestseller….such a novel idea to most people….but this stuff has been written about for centuries. The Law of Attraction states that you attract into your life whatever you focus your thoughts on. If you are constantly worried that you car will break down, you will constantly be calling AAA from the side of the road. Conversely, if you keep your thoughts on wealth and prosperity, these things will come into your life. It’s a concept formed around gratitude. It is not just about wishing, it’s about being grateful for what you have and what will be in your life in the future. It is through gratitude that you attract good things into your life. I know I am not explaining this well, so I will just let you read the books if you’re interested. I will try to write periodic meditations on what I read.

We left Oceanside, NY and with it, a bit of nostalgia trailed behind. The first school I worked with Josh was Oceanside Elementary School #2. We started dating during that week. The Cole Brothers lot was set up right next to the sushi restaurant Josh and I went to on the night of our Student Circus. I know it's going to start getting harder now that we're traveling south, but it's only three and a half months. And I am enjoying the time I have with him now. The ironic part is that now we're in Jersey, and I will see him less than when we were in New York, as the cities we're playing are far away in south Jersey. Boo.

We are in Mays Landing, NJ now. We played to sold out houses yesterday. Insane. That’s 2000 people per show! And not once did I have to deal with mean people. Not once! People were so nice! I think there’s some sort of energy field shift that’s happening, but I’m not entirely sure what it is or how it’s working. Maybe it’s because I’ve decided that I don’t want to interact with mean people anymore.

We’re on a dirt lot while we’re here. It reminds me of the desert. *Pine* Lol…but I don’t envy AZ folk right now, that’s for sure.

K…gotta go clean. Peace!

2009-08-01T20:58:00.000-07:00

Saturday, August 01, 2009: Beauty

I am a beautiful butterfly. I am sexy. I am elegant. I am a beautiful butterfly. I am a beautiful butterfly. I am a...

*SNORT*HACK*COUGH*SPIT*

...beautiful butterfly.

I've been battling a cold for the past two weeks. Yup. It's the same one that started out in a fever. It's better, but still hanging on just a bit. And really, my tendency is not towards being sexy to begin with (hence being a dunce in high heels), so my job of being a butterfly/belly dancer has been a bit harder whilst having projectile phlegm fly out of my mouth at 65 mph. Gross right? Now just think...I totally just euphemized that for my weak-stomached reader.

****************************************************************

Circus people are amazing. I'm not necessarily including myself in this category...I'm referring to circus lifers. Yesterday, one of the tightwire guys decided to go ice skating before one of the shows. It was his first time, and he crashed and burned...badly. Had to go to the emergency room and get 9 stitches in his eyebrow that he busted open. The tightwire act is the featured attraction in our show. It ends with a seven-man pyramid walking from one platform to the other. Quite the site to see. Actually, here's a video clip that was shot about a half an hour before the accident:

So what happens when one man is taken out of a finishing trick that can't happen with less than seven people?

You create a new finishing trick. In five minutes. That's right. Literally five minutes before they were supposed to go on for their act, I saw the highwire guys practicing backstage, making something new and almost equally impressive to end their act. Crazy.

Now here I sit in Josh’s house waiting for him to get home. I’ve been so lucky to be so close to Jersey City…I’ve gotten to visit him almost every night for the past two weeks. It’s gonna start getting harder to see him soon. *Sigh* It’s only until November. It’s only until November.

Three shows tomorrow, then off to Oceanside, NY for two days.

Monday, July 27, 2009: Happy Brooklyn

One might look at the title of my blog and think either I am completely mad or madly facetious. On the contrary, we’ve only been here one day, and I may be speaking too soon, but so far, Brooklyn, NY has been the happiest city I’ve been to yet. The people here are so nice and the kids are so full of life! In both shows today, I’ve not had one problem. I’m writing in the middle of a show now waiting to go on for the mid-way parade. Earlier, a Turkish boy sat in the front row with his mother, and right before the show started, he came up to us and said, “It is my birthday today, and so I want to give you chocolate.” I was stunned…floored…knocked on my ass because this little eight-year-old boy was…nice! He was conscious and so loving. I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears and I almost cried.

During intermission, I ran back to my trailer and grabbed a seashell lei Chai had given to me last year. I entered the tent, knelt down by the boy’s chair, and presented the shells. “These were given to me by my best friend,” I said, “he gives out tons of love and has an open heart just like you. So I’m going to pass these onto you now.”

Children of light amaze me. It’s always refreshing to see young ones who are already conscious human beings. It tickles me to no end. And I believe that all children should be reminded to spread their light and love…especially the ones who are already conscious. Keep the momentum going. =)

I am a camel

2009-07-26T09:03:00.000-07:00

I decided I have two options:

I could be pissed. This past week we’ve been close to the beach. And by close to the beach, I mean, if I take 100 steps, I’m in the ocean. My trailer is parked such that if I look out my bedroom window, I can imagine that I own beachfront property. And not only are we on the beach, I’m 30 minutes away from Josh. SO CLOSE.

….and last Sunday night, as we were moving to this fabulous new location, I came down with a high fever. I’ve been sick all this week.

For a hot minute I was enraged. What the fuck? It was going to be the perfect week!

Option #2: be grateful. There is always a bright side. At this moment, I feel close to Mother Nature and all the healing elements of the ocean. And Josh lives only 30 minutes up the road. I have the healing energy of love and the earth surrounding me. I COULD have gotten sick when I was far away from both of the above. My healing process has been insanely fast this week. Every day, I am markedly better. And so I am grateful.

But now I got poor Josh sick. Sigh. Well, he’ll heal, as well.

*********************************************

It’s been a strange week. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened, but perhaps that is what makes it strange. Every day has blurred into the next. I attribute part of that to being sick. When illness strikes, my entire world becomes a wash of color and sound. I’ve made it through every show, though…even while almost passing out due to the fever.

But the weird part is that I look at the day before, and think, “How was that any different than today?” This is a red alert for me. When I expressed to one of my friends that I was having a bit of a rough time connecting with my spirit while on the circus lot, he suggested creating intentions: for my day, for each hour, for each act. I think if I truly concentrate on this, I will be able to move past experiencing every day as the same. There’s no autopilot when you live with intention…a difficult thing for me to push through. I will try harder this next week.

****************************************************

Some of my most interesting moments come from when I’m dancing for the camel act.

…Like the other day when a little boy excitedly started flapping his arms, pointing at me and yelling, “HI CAMEL! HI CAMEL!!”

It’s a fun social experiment because the dancers step outside of the ring and dance literally two feet away from the front row. We’re right in their faces. Sometimes people are freaked out, sometimes they love it, sometimes they offer us money. Ya know.

I like to make eye contact with people and smile. But the other day, I was feeling the weight of the week while dancing. I try not to let it show, but I felt that my feet were heavy and my smile just a little too fake.

Right in the front row was a woman and her child. The entire act, she smiled warmly at me, bouncing her son on her lap and occasionally taking his arm to wave at me. By the end of the week, I felt uplifted and light. As we made our exit, I stopped by her seat and quickly thanked her for the good energy. This made me want to be more conscious of how I express my own energy. The woman never said a word to me, but she was able to turn my entire day around just from the warmth of her spirit. Amazing.

**********************************************

Funny ushering moment of the week:

10 minutes before the show starts:
Angry Woman: “Excuse me! What did I just pay $17 to see?!
Me (thinking she was having issues with where she was sitting): “I’m sorry ma’am. If you’re having trouble seeing the ring, you are welcome to upgrade your seat to the reserved or VIP section.”
Woman: “No. That’s not what I’m saying. What did I pay to see?! What’s in this show?!”
Me: “Oh…um, well there’s motorcycles and tightwire and aerials....
Woman (cutting me off): OH! So you mean THIS isn’t the show?! (indicating to the camel and pony rides)

So here’s my new cynical life policy proposal:
Every person should be required to take an IQ test before they become parents. If the IQ of either of the parents is less than 110, you’re not allowed to breed. We will have a much smarter world.

Luck?

2009-07-16T06:37:00.000-07:00

We’re on a hill this week. That makes running in stilettos fun. I mean, I’m moronic in high heels to begin with, but running…ON A HILL?

We’re in Greenport, NY now…right by the beach. *Sigh*. Life is good. My body still feels tired all the time, but I think I’m getting into the swing of things.

*******************************************

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a princess. My dreams revolved around not the riches, castle, and servants, but rather the physical beauty that all princesses are clearly born with. And then I went to go see a ballet, and I wanted to be a prima ballerina with a perfect body and perfect face, pristine hair and grace that touched ethereal. And then I went to the circus, and I wanted to be a showgirl, shining brilliantly in large plumes and gem-encrusted costumes. But I could never be any of these things. I simply was not pretty enough. Society would forever block me from such paths.

…and now I’m a showgirl, and over and over again, it makes me go HUH?!?!

Though I had always envisioned myself in these various roles, the pictures in my mind could never match up with the reality of my physical state. I was born acutely disfigured. No one with an asymmetrical face could ever make it into these paradigms of beauty. Plus, I was short, nerdy, and had an afro larger than my head, itself.

Did I just beat the system?

2009-07-13T08:56:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 12, 2009: Six Pack Weekend

Most people in this society look forward to weekends. I no longer do. In the circus there’s a dreaded term: Six Pack. It means six shows during the weekend: three on Saturday, three on Sunday...and it kinda sucks. Granted, ACA was way harder. Perhaps it seems worse now because we're so far away from the camp, I can’t easily go back to my trailer. I have to hang out in the dressing room or backstage throughout the entire two hours of the show. It’s ok though…I think I’m still settling in, so I assume this will all become easier soon. Caroline told me to give myself at least two months to get into the rhythm of things.

And I’ve decided that the most dangerous part of my job is not being up in the air. If I’m going to die while in the circus, it will either be due to getting run over by an elephant or circus cart during the parade OR going into cardiac arrest from dealing with mean customers.

For every show, there are two finales: one right before intermission and one at the end of the show. The finale only consists of all the circus performers parading out in our costumes and waving to the audience. Also included in this parade are brightly painted and glittery circus carts (resembling old train wagons and organs on wheels) and the animals. In my first week here, I finished one such parade and was about to exit backstage when one of the workers frantically signaled for me to stay where I was. How does one NOT see a train of elephants coming? Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll be here all week. And every day, without fail, I almost get run over by a cart because the backstage just ain’t big enough for people AND moving vehicles. What a site it is to see me dive out of the way in full glitter and stilettos.

***************************************************

I think I’m going to start documenting the best ushering moments of my week. Here’s one for last week:

I see a commotion happening around Widny and Nick in the VIP section. Widny looks frustrated and little 11-year-old Nick looks completely befuddled. I walk over.

Me to the customer: “Hello, ma’am. May I help you?”
Woman: “Do YOU speak English?!”
No, no. That last sentence in the American accent…that was just to fake you out.
Me: Yes. Now how may I help you?
Woman: Well, I am VERY upset!
Too many kids here? Pavement isn’t shining clean? WHAT?! You’re in the frickin’ second row!
Me: I’m sorry to hear that. What can I do for you?
Woman: I am VERY upset!...
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think we already established this.
….I did not pay $22 to sit behind FAT PEOPLE.

I stop. I blink. I stare at her blankly. Really?! REALLY?!! My mouth starts to form a laugh, but I stop myself soon enough. If there is a God, the people sitting directly in front of her do not speak English.

And I walk away.

Lonely in Bay Shore

2009-07-10T12:32:00.000-07:00

Pros of circus life:
- I don’t have to cook. Food magically appears on my plate. (Ok…the cookhouse ladies may have something to do with that.) The food isn’t all that healthy, but I’m grateful for it regardless. If I take it in small doses, I think I can avoid a heart attack.
- I have a set schedule. I didn’t realize how much my sanity depends on a set schedule until I didn’t have one (during the first few months of this year when I was freelancing). I felt like a moth in a dark room. Now, our cities always change, but our schedule is always the same. I love it.
- My office is in my backyard…usually. This week, it’s about half a mile away. We have a shuttle bus taking us back and forth between our camp and the tent. But normally, I wake up, brush my teeth, and walk 100 feet into my gym/living room/office/playground. It rocks.

Con:
- It’s a lonely life.

We’re set up in the parking lot of the Westfield South Shore Mall this week. I found myself wandering aimlessly in and out of the many stores today. For the first time since I’ve been here, I feel a twinge of loneliness in my heart. Josh is not far away (only about an hour drive), but I miss his constant company. I found myself wanting to be home in Cleveland today, too. I miss my SAFMOD family. I miss our house. Sweet November will bring me home, and I find myself laughing that I haven’t even been on this tour a month, and I’m pining for Cleveland already. Perhaps it’s because I have been away from Ohio for about half a year already.

Show are getting easier, but this is not to say that they are easy yet. The silks are made of a material that none of us have ever worked on before. They’re dangerously slippery. The first time I climbed, I almost cried. Not only are they slippery, they are very stretchy, which makes climbing even harder. I was told the first week the girls arrived on the lot, they were all in tears because they had never encountered a material like this. So, before every show, we go through a water ritual. We stand at our sink and hold our arms and ankles under the tap to soak our costume through. Then we finish up with a spray bottle to make sure the insides of our legs and waists are soaked as well. Then we put rosin on our hands…..and even STILL some days, it is ridiculously hard to climb the silks. It’s good that the routine is easy.

Time to jump into make-up. Showtime, boys and girls.

Bay Shore, NY

2009-07-07T08:07:00.001-07:00

Glitter is a terminal disease. It’s in my hair, my bed, my clothes, and my snot. I wear it, eat it, and will eventually die from inhaling too much of it. (Yes, I said “eat it”. It’s unavoidable when it’s on your lips.) I can’t kiss my boyfriend without making him sparkle and gleam (in the strictly literal sense). When I hug my circus friends, we exchange colors. I am contaminated and will contaminate anyone who walks within a 50 foot radius of me. Fuck glitter.

And yet, I will be wearing it every single day until the middle of November.

Ah, but today! Today, I am free!! Today is officially No Glitter Day. We finally got a day off. Don’t know why, but I’m not asking questions…and neither is anyone else. We are in Bay Shore now, only about 8 miles from Lindenhurst.

Gonna go get my hair braided. Oh thank god…I’m getting it SHORT this time. =) Peace!

Lindenhurst, NY

2009-07-04T09:44:00.000-07:00

I love going into the tent at night. The circus is like a small city filled with families. On any given night, I can enter the big top after a show and see people practicing hanging by their hair, doing handstands, and riding motorcycles inside of a dome….and teaching their children to do the same.

The other night, I went in for my nightly practice session. The motorcycle guys were in there practicing. In the show, it’s the father (Anthony), son (14-year-old Eric), and friend (Andre) who do the act. At night, Anthony trains all of his children. This night, the 11-year-old daughter, Wendy, dressed head-to-toe in pink motorcycle gear, was in the metal dome as I started warming up. Her father called out commands to her from outside of the cage as she zoomed around. Upon finishing, it was now 8-year-old Edwin’s turn. In order to get into the dome, one must ascend a ramp. Teeny-tiny Edwin, weighted down and looking like a Storm Trooper with all his protective gear, had to have his brother walk behind him up the ramp, pushing him from behind, lest he topple head over heels backwards. Once on the motorcycle, Anthony stood in the dome with him, holding the motorcycle as he took slow laps around the side.

I go into the show today with the camels. Wee! I just hope I remember the dance…it’s been a couple weeks since I learned it.

Josh is very close to Lindenhurst….just an hour and a half away. I’m going to go see him to celebrate the 4th tonight. Yahoo!

Some of the kids I taught with National Circus Project (in Lindenhurst) came to the show last night. So amazing to see them again!

Make-up time!

2009-06-30T08:40:00.000-07:00

Monday, June 29, 2009: Dalton, MA

I drove back from New Jersey this morning. My poor heart, Josh. I am so used to leaving loved ones that I think I come across callous. Goodbyes have become such a normal part of my life…I am always jumping from place to another. And in my heart, I know I will see him again soon…very soon…so I remain happy. But I know it does not make it easier for him. I am so lucky…I get to come back to circus life where I don’t have time to miss people…I am always working and at night, I am exhausted. But Josh is left with an empty house.

Performing with Soneboy at New York Gay Pride was truly an experience. It was a hot day, and the stage was metal, so it vaguely reflected the sun back at us. I felt so unprepared. I had tried to plan in my head what I would do, but found myself scrambling at the very last minute, like always. The universe worked in our favor. Brian, Kelly, and Mack had pieced together my costume. It fit perfectly and everything looked like they had planned it. Soneboy (Brian) rocked the stage. I’m so proud of him. His music career is going to skyrocket form here…I know it will. I just hope he remembers the little people when he is famous. =)

Classic moment: two days ago, I was doing my ushering duties before the show. My roommate, Widney and I work at the same gate. There’s a young girl here (Emma) who is spending the summer here with one of the animal trainers (Caroline). She comes over and talks to us before the show every day. So I walk up to the gate where Widney trying to explain something to Emma:

Widney (turning to me): “You know, I try to explain something here. Ok…so you…when you were in school when you were young, you know? I can tell…I can tell you, Sora, were…oh how say?....study, study, study! Learn more! Give me more book! Ooo…I know answer!

What do you call this?”

Me:“Did you just call me a nerd?!”

Widney: “YES! This is word I’m looking for. You are a nerd. Thank you.”

Good god. Does my nerdiness translate across cultures?! Ha. I guess I’ve come to accept it. Josh even helped me pick out a new pair of glasses that scream FUNKY NERD!!! Lol. What can ya do?

I’m exhausted. We jump to Bay Shore, New York tomorrow. Wee! Closer to friends! Closer to mi novio!

Spanish is coming slowly back to me. I think I’m going to go buy a “Spanish for Dummies” book to help me out. It’s rough, because the dialect Widney speaks is specific to Argentina and surrounding area. I forget what it’s called. So it’s different than Mexican Spanish and European Spanish. Woah.

I went for a walk with Chai this morning while still in New Jersey. We talked about language usage and how even if two people are both speaking English, if the words used are different, than meaning can be lost and frustration ensues because both parties want to be understood. Or if two people are using the same words and context is different, how this, too, can be a major problem. I analyzed how I’ve been reaching some blocks in language usage and how I want to change my perspective so that I am less frustrated.

It is late. I keep promising more interesting stories. I will have to allot more time tomorrow.

Saturday, June 27, 2009: Plymouth, MA

What a silly site our trailer is! It’s been raining, so the workers have covered it in a blue tarp. However, they forgot that we actually need to enter and exit. They made the tarp so tight that we couldn’t open our door. Oye.

I went into the show on Friday, but only for the dance prior to the aerial act. I went up in the air yesterday. I’ve never done group silks before, so it’s a bit of a new experience trying to get the timing down perfectly.

Going for a crazy trip today. I had promised Brian months ago that I would back-up dance for him at New York Pride Festival, so I am leaving the lot tonight after our shows to return to New York for a day. I feel terrible. I had no idea this tour would drop in my lap so quickly. So now, wonderful Josh is hosting Brian, Chai, Kelly, and Macklin without me being there. I am eternally grateful for such an amazing boyfriend. Lol…and poor Brian has been putting up with my stressed out-ed-ness. And poor Chai came out to visit and now I won’t get to hang out with him so much. ARG! But man…I just feel so blessed to have so much love and understanding from my friends.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009: Bridgewater, MA

Still raining, but thank god my roommates are from warm climates…our house is always toasty. And on that note: WE HAVE HEAT!! If you remember from my last adventure, there was no heat in our bunk room and I mastered the art of keeping my body temperature right above hypothermic. I’m determined to start performing tomorrow. I don’t get paid until I start performing. Every day I lose, I lose more money. Boo.

Monday, June 22, 2009: Hellllloooo American circus

Tuesday, June 16, 2007

“Hello, is this Sora?”
“Yes, this is Sora.”
“This is Elvin Bale from Cole Brothers Circus. Hypothetically, what’s your schedule like right now?”
“Well, I’m freelancing at the moment. How soon would you hypothetically need me?”
“How is tomorrow?”
“Um….not possible. How about Monday?”

So this is circus in all of its typical glory. I knew a call like this would come in somewhere around this time: halfway through the season, either someone gets hurt, pisses off the boss, or leaves like a shadow in the night. Since the Great American Royal Circus tour was canceled (two weeks before it was supposed to start), I’ve been banking on it, praying for it, making animal sacrifices for it….or at least, I went to one particular circus, obtained the e-mail address of the casting director (by talking to some of the cast after the show), and sent in my promotional materials. It’s almost surreal living and flying on the Cole Brothers lot not even a month after I attended the show as an audience member.

After a heart-wrenching last couple of days with my beautiful boyfriend, Josh, in New Jersey, I woke up at 5:00 this morning, hopped in my car, drove 5 hours, arrived at the lot, unpacked, ate lunch, rehearsed, ushered, watched two shows, rehearsed, and ate dinner. Which brings me to….now.

One of my roommates is from Brazil (Tachiana). The other is from Argentina (Widney). Both are bubbly and vibrant and I’m very excited to be living with them. We are already teaching each other our native languages. I desperately want to learn Spanish, and I assume I’ll be picking up some Portuguese. They are both in the aerial silks act as well. We are all also dancing in the camel act. Yes, I said the camel act.

Which brings me to my next tangent. Animals in the circus. So far, I have seen nothing but kind, loving care given to the animals, which is awesome. I’ve always been torn with the whole “animals in the circus” debate. I’m still torn. But it at least helps to see that they’re being well cared-for. Which brings me to….woah. As I was running to the tent today, I passed by the elephants which were kinda just hanging out in the parking lot. I was so concentrated on what I had to do, I didn’t even realize that I came within arm grazing distance of these enormous pachyderm. Woah. Like really, I SHOULD have shit myself right then and there. I’m living in a 50 foot radius of elephants and camels. They’re WANDERING THE PARKING LOT. (Ok, they’re fenced in, but still…) Um…what?!?! Somehow, though, it just seemed so natural that I kept on with my insane busy schedule. Not to be all geeked out and whatnot, but this is the first time I’ve lived on a circus lot with animals. Woah.

Ok. It’s bedtime. I’m trashed. More about the lot and initial impressions tomorrow. Till then, go sparkle and be free. =)

Helluva week

2009-03-27T20:54:00.000-07:00

Wow. It's been a cyclone of a week. My heart has been dipping in and out of sadness, but I think I have more just checked out. I want to reconnect with the feeling of freedom I had when I first arrived to New York. I'm sure it will come back. I was under a considerable amount of duress this week in the school where I was teaching, so I'm sure physical and mental exhaustion have something to do with it as well.

Growing attractions fill my curious spirit and I find excitement in such things, but I also feel that now may not be the right time being that I'm still going through a healing process. It may not be a long road, but my vicissitudinary nights are overtaken by a dark vacuum of thick grief, and this in and of itself sets off warning bells.

My kids this week were AMAZING. I was in a private school in Scarsdale, NY...Seely Elementary. Wow. Ok...so talk about a city with CASH. The homes here were insanely huge...mansions...and, of course, every single one of the 150 kids we worked with were INCREDIBLY talented. I worked my ass off to choreograph acts that would satisfy the school...no easy task to do! However, I did get to hang my silks and get a group of girls up in the air. It was brilliant and inspiring. They did so well! I'm still coming down off of a "performance high"...even though I wasn't performing myself. I've been going since 6:15 this morning...it's about midnight now, but I still have so much in my heart and head to process, sleep is not an option yet.

Or maybe it is. I know as soon as my head hits the pillow, I will know nothing but blissful sleep. So why do I not diverge from my sorrowful heart and simply drift away? Perhaps I am masochistic. But I feel there is something that's not unlocking within me and it bothers me that I have not found that key yet. I thought I had, and perhaps I did, but I have been retied by the knots which previously held my spirit down in wailing angst.

I just got off the phone with an old friend from AZ. He's in New York! I randomly bumped into him at the airport over Christmas while picking up Bradlee. Ever since, I've been putting energy out to reconnect. I really miss him. Hmmm...I may be going on an adventure tomorrow. =)

Ok...to bed!

New York, new day

2009-03-16T17:01:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Westbury, NY yesterday after one of the most enlightening roadtrips in my recent history. I saw signs along the way, and I could openly communicate with my higher self. An incredible peace came over me.

Today, I feel beautiful. My heart is open, and I can feel light radiating from my chest. No more sadness, no more anger or bitterness.

And I have a new adventure in front of me. New York is going to be amazing and I want with my whole heart to come out on the other end confident and ready for my tour. Well, alright then. Here we go.

On a bizarre side-note, I'm staying in the National Circus Project office while I'm in New York. The cool thing is that the office is a residential home. So I have my own bedroom. However, it was a bit odd waking up this morning to the sound of the marketing director answering the phone with "Hello, National Circus Project, this is Martha..." ...and then walking out into the "office" in my pajamas. I'm sure I'll get used to it.

Off to practice!

Prophetic thought

2009-03-13T08:28:00.000-07:00

I knew. My intuitive heart told me. Two years and four months ago, I knew. Yet, I still did, regardless of my knowledge of impermanence. And now there's a small voice whispering "I told you so"...or is this affirmation that grazes my ear?

I've been called a prophet. I do not speak of this much, nor do I embrace the title. It scares me.

Did I foresee all of this or create it? Creator or prophet?

I have now arrived at the moment that I saw clearly in my mind's eye those years ago. Sadness wells deep within my soul. Grief has always been a constant companion of mine. I knew. Yet, I still did.

And I do not regret. I needed to experience what I did. I embrace the beautiful time and love shared, but now I must also embrace the space I have created for new energy and new love, without erasing the past. I must embrace that I have changed...it is not comfortable. I made one last valiant attempt, knowing full well that I was abolishing every possible "what if" from my mind in doing so. I stand affirmed. I have come so far and still have so far to go.

It is January 2009. I am at a restaurant having dessert with my soulmates. Three chairs are occupied. One is empty. I look at my two friends sitting across from me. They are beautiful together. And simultaneously, I can feel the bond between us three: a beautiful connecting light, and I relinquish control over my relentless smile. Later, I sit with my angel. He looks at me directly and says, "There were four chairs there. All were filled." He smiles. I begin to cry...because I know. "Just be patient. It already is....and it will be soon."

It already is.

Touch earth

2009-02-19T22:27:00.000-08:00

Air spirit, you feel thy roots
Into earth rich with secrets unfounded
Soil darkened from life cycle revolving
Seek space
Tendrils of curiosity
Probe over, around, through
Every new playground unyielding
Forbidden

Hidden sanctuary
Visited by many
See how this mighty structure grows
Fed with energy, nestled in light

A lake is formed
Reflecting sweet cherry wood
And thy branches strain far forward
To only get a clearer glance
The water reflects an image
Incongruous to that which protrudes
From this sweet dark soil

Quenching nectar, drink ye all
Yet flora vibrant
Cast shadows upon these roots
Soil rolling

Searching limbs seek solace in
A new garden
A sanctuary of solitude
Yet to be discovered

But a tree that has created home so deep
Can uproot itself
Only by the tremors
Of the earth
Coaxing
Purging
Letting go

Let go

See me

2009-02-17T19:01:00.000-08:00

I came upon a new self-discovery the other day:

I get excited about reading menus.

Strange thing to realize, and really, in the bigger scheme of things it's a very arbitrary attribute to my personality. But, eh...so it goes. Deep thoughts.

I lay in bed this morning mentally reprimanding myself for not getting up early like I had planned. In fact, I was in bed far later than I have been in a long time. You are so incredibly lazy! How do you expect to be a a useful human being if you can't even get your ass out of bed when you say you're going to? Where the fuck is your drive? Don't even think for a second... I stopped myself mid-unspoken-sentence. What good was this doing? Was I really going to start my day with negative shit like this going through my head?

So I went back inside my head and dove into my body. It's been a long time since I've tried to guide energy with my third eye. And this morning, I found out why.

I've been disconnected. This is not to say I will not get back to it, but at the moment, there's something blocking me. Grrr. Frustration. So I spent my last few moments in bed simply affirming myself before hauling myself up and out. It's all I can do at the moment.

I feel out of control yet bored at the same time. How can this be?

Here's what's on my mind today: People and "non-people". I read something a couple years back that touched on this subject. "People are those who come into our lives who somehow hold significance: friends, family, even acquaintances. We "see" them when they walk into a room. "Non-people" are those who do not necessarily make it into our conscious perception: cashiers, janitors, servers, people walking down the street. Today, I drove past a corner shop where a costumed man stood outside directing traffic into the store. As my car rolled past, unconsciously, I locked eyes with him and smiled. Immediately, he broke into a radiant grin and waved genuinely at me. Now, I've passed this corner a hundred times and have never "seen" the costumed people standing outside. I've noticed they were there, but never once broke the human barrier...not on purpose, but quite subconsciously. Today, I felt like I was waking out of a deep slumber. I think this elderly gentleman felt the same...or I hope he did. Ever am I working to deepen my connection to humanity. This afternoon, I learned I am only beginning...

Letter writing time. Wee!

A Walk to Remember

2009-02-10T15:21:00.001-08:00

This afternoon, I was able to go for a walk with only a long sleeved t-shirt on. I am so grateful for this warm day. *Sigh*

Square spiral, destination center

2009-02-10T15:19:00.000-08:00

I haven’t written since late December. I think of this less of me running away from my blog, but rather not having the words to convey what I am experiencing at the moment. While I was in the UK, it was quite simple to sit down and simply write. And there were always stories. I do not want to become tired in my writing, though, I feel that I have reached the point of chronic writer’s block.

I feel inspired this week. I am slowly settling back in and trying to get my life organized. I have gotten to hear Aaron’s happy voice over the phone regularly…always comforting to my soul. I can hear the Florida sunshine radiating through his voice. And last night, I got a much needed night out with my Sone Angel and Macklin.

I was able to reconnect with Orion the other day, and I feel that someone has strapped a jet pack to my spirit and sent it flying. Our lives are very parallel, so I should not have been surprised that as he was running through my mind this past week, I was making tracks around his. I look at him as a superhuman being…and, again, it baffles me that he more than returns this sentiment. He has created and is directing a theatre program with Downs Syndrome children (amongst his other five billion other children’s theatre projects he’s currently working on, plus the pirate ship…). He doesn’t do it because he has to or he feels he “should”, he does it because it feels like the natural thing to do. This sentiment has sent me into deep contemplation on the origins of my motivation. Yes, I’m going on the National Hunger Tour starting in June, but I didn’t go out and create this machine. I am simply jumping on board. I know that what I’m doing is going to benefit humanity, but there seems to be some lingering film of selfishness floating abreast my desire to put my heart into societal aid. But this then brings me back to my idea that if I am not in some way being fed spiritually, emotionally…even physically…how long will I last if I put my heart into something that does not give back? Herein lies my struggle with my selfishness.

I spent the past three weeks in New York working for the National Circus Project. What an awakening! I feel that, as far as working with children, I’ve been fast asleep up until this point. I am working for the same directors I had in the UK: Ann and Greg. It never ceases to amaze me the scope of their generosity. They let me stay as a house guest for the entire duration of my trip. And, on top of this, I got excellent training on how to handle 500 elementary school children a day.

I now have the task of learning how to master the spinning plate, diabolo, devil stick, and juggling before I go back to NY in the spring. Ha. Ok. Maybe “master” is too obtuse a term. Let’s start with “learn how to manipulate without dropping 567 times in a session”. =) Actually, it’s practice time now! Ciao!

I don't quite know

2008-12-31T19:03:00.000-08:00

Two seconds ago, I had a long post ready to publish. And then, with great intention, I pushed the "Delete" button. It's gone now, and I feel that my thoughts will seem less contrived from this point forward. So, from my heart comes my New Years blog.

This time last year, I was down in Bisbee taking in the sights and sounds of the first real New Years Eve celebration I've ever experienced. It was intense. The streets were packed, I saw my friends in Flam Chen give an outstanding performance, and 2008 was rung in with my good friend, John, who had driven down from Phoenix to see me.

This year, I am going back to what I did on December 31, 2005 and 2006: I'm going to meditate. My outlook is this: last Dec 31 kicked ass. Hands down, it was amazing. Tonight is equivocally going to be significant. I KNOW next year is going to be mind-blowing and life-transforming. I just know...so whether I'm out in the streets with good friends or serenely in solitude matters not. I will not be alone tonight: my mother is here with me and I will have a couple of friends joining me in meditation (though we reside in different cities).

****************************************************************

So to all: travel well this next year. I wish you to love as much as your heart will allow, and I challenge you to go beyond this limit. Think only positively, for you create the energy around you.

Good night, and I send my love to all.

Returning to what never was

2008-12-29T15:46:00.000-08:00

I've been going through a barrage of strange emotions and thoughts over the past few days. It started with going out with some friends from high school. I'm aware that I'm not on the "favorites" list of one of the girls, though I thought maybe, just maybe, 4 years of not seeing her would a) perhaps open her up to receiving some of the love and friendship I'm offering, and b) might have changed my own perceived personality conflict with her.

I was wrong on both accounts. Self-realization #1: It really bothers me when someone doesn't like me. After "out processing" with Bradlee (talking outloud and processing at the same time), I know it comes from me having massive amounts of love to give freely, and being astronomically slapped in the face when it is shoved back. I have to realize that personality conflicts will happen...no matter how loving I want to be. Self-realization #2 (one that I've been having over and over again): I'm not going to like everyone who walks into my life. *Sigh*

While on the outside, the night progressed nicely, I knew deep down that she was keeping quite the facade. Later, I started replaying the night over, and came to the terrible realization that some things I had said in purely good humor may have been taken by her to be malicious and hurtful...not my intention in the least. If she had shown up not liking me in the first place, there was no reason why she wouldn't completely hate me now. I sent her an e-mail of apology. And I realize now this is all I can do.

I haven't felt malicious energy invade my space for a number of years...so it's thrown me completely off kilter. Ugh.

**************************************************************************

I think I've mentioned that I'm reading an incredible book right now: Autobiography of a Face. It's a woman's account of her struggle with cancer and its effects.

It's effects: 1/3 of her jaw had to be removed when she was 9 years old, leaving her with a disfigured face, on top of all side-effect which come with radiation and chemo.

I cannot imagine walking through life with cancer. Her struggles and triumphs were immense. I CAN, however, relate completely to traveling this journey with a disfigured face.

In one of the pages, she recounts how she would cover half of her face with her hand and imagine being beautiful. I could not control the tears which then freely began to flow from my eyes. This has been a ritual my whole life (one which I unconsciously still practice often): covering the left side of my face and imagining how different life would be if it were symmetrical. I realize I carry myself in a way that does not denote someone who has gone through life disfigured. I can thank Mom for that one. I was never allowed to cover my face or walk with my head down growing up. If I did, I was reprimanded sharply. "There's nothing wrong with you," she would tell me. And so began a life-long mantra.

Though, affirming there is "nothing wrong" is still lightyears away from affirming beauty itself. I began despairing earlier. As I have written before, I have one partner who unabashedly and endlessly affirms my physical beauty. He has the art of making me blush down to a tee. My other partners do not so much, not as freely, at least. I became uncomfortable with this. Clearly the fact that I do not hear it often must mean that I am not attractive at all.

A second (more reasonable) thought always follows. Why do I need this affirmation from other people? Why do I hunger for people to tell me I'm beautiful and expound their attraction for me?

While I believe that I love myself in many ways and am nurturing to my own spirit...I do not believe I have yet reached full love and acceptance. I am working to walk this path, but I am not quite there yet. I love my body, hate my face. I must be able to get out of and beyond this space. I must. I've been living here for 25 years.

My biggest fear at the moment is showing up to Jacksonville, Fl in June and not being put in the show due to aesthetic reasons. I am trying my hardest to deviate my thoughts from this type of negativity, though I don't quite know where to start.

I see many soul-searching nights in front of me.

Can I just vent?!

2008-12-23T14:07:00.000-08:00

Ok. I've gone through a number of heartbreaks this year...and ALL of them have revolved around my partners not understanding the MARJOR difference between being polyamorous and being someone fun to hang out with on the weekend...someone who can be thrown to the side at any minute. I'm not sure how much more my heart can take. I don't understand that when I say "I'm in love with you" and I PROVE over and over that I'm committed (albeit not being monogamous), that people STILL don't understand that my heart is just as fragile and vulnerable as everyone else's.

So to all current and future loves, please hear me loud and clear. When I commit to being in a relationship with you, I am committing to a journey. I am committing to walking, dancing, laughing, crying with you. I am committing to growing and changing with you. I am committed to supporting you and being behind you always. I am committed to being honest with you and communicating openly. I am committed to nurturing US...and loving you deeply. Because my foundational belief system screams that it wants to love beyond a single relationship, THIS is why I stay poly. In my mind, it does not diminish our relationship in the least. In fact, on the contrary, I feel it makes it stronger. If we can be committed to each other and to other people and find joy and value in this, that's a pure form of trust.

I need to nurse my heart at the moment. I will write more when I am more collected.

Manifesting, receiving

2008-12-19T23:19:00.000-08:00

I ask the Universe for things on a regular basis. No joke. Maybe it's sort of a "hats off" gesture to my previous walk with Christianity. Regardless of my trying to psychoanalyze myself as to why I do it, I still continue with this practice on almost an hourly basis. Sometimes minute-to-minute. Sometimes I do it out of jest like, "Dear Universe, please fill Sierra Vista with people who know how to drive. Love, Sora

....no?.....
...oh ok."

Lately, I've been asking for signs. I have a bit of a struggle with varying perspectives on this philosophy. Like, am I really receiving a sign? Or am I just reading meaning into something arbitrary? Here's where my struggle ends: It doesn't matter. If I ask for a sign, and I see/hear/experience something which inspires me to move in a certain direction, awesome. Being that I am firmly rooted in my belief that I'm exactly where I need to/am meant to be at all times, it fits well into receiving direction from outside sources.

Here's my current state: stagnant and freaking out. I had planned to have a 2009 tour booked by this time. And everyone is coming into Arizona right now for the holidays, and so I'm completely overwhelmed at the same time. In my life pattern, this all adds up to the quick flick of headlights...and me caught unmoving.

I was driving up to Tucson tonight. I've been asking for meaningful music on the radio lately. I'll take a moment to center, ask, then hit the "on" button. So far, every time, I've turned the radio to a station that delivers a significant message or affirmation to me. Tonight, sent right to my ears was:

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment, and you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it

I realize the song isn't necessarily about a similar life situation. However, these lines filled the cab of my truck as I zinged down the highway, and I was filled with determination. So it is time. Time to get myself together.

Speaking of ADD...

2008-12-18T19:14:00.000-08:00

Not to overshadow the more serious nature of my last blog, but I also have this running through my mind at the moment:

The 12 Gays of Christmas

The choreography is brilliant, it's hilarious, AND...well, Chai and I have decided that we're going to learn it....and drag Brian along with us. The end.

Dear Universe

2008-12-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

I am grateful. I have an agent in the UK who is doing his best, not only to find a seasonal gig for me, but to make sure that it's "not just anything". I have amazing support coming from Cleveland, and I have tremendous spiritual fulfillment in Arizona. I get to experience the "summer" that I didn't get to experience in the UK. I sleep in a comfortable bed, and I am never hungry.

I am also finally able to get back to my root and ponder bigger questions like, "How is there poverty in the world when one supermarket can EASILY feed thousands of people?" (Thank you, Mr. Blair-Stahn.) Yesterday, Chai and I had a lengthy discussion on food laws and how they keep impoverishment firmly in place with only the gain of protecting the wealthy. There are even laws instituted saying one cannot go dumpster diving for food. You, too, can be arrested for such a heinous crime. These laws are thinly veiled as trying to protect "the people". I am constantly saddened at the VAST amount of food that is wasted each day. Where does all the food go once it reaches its expiration date?

I remember being in the UK. Over the course, I got addicted to a brand of smoothie called "Innocent Smoothies" (sooo good...pure fruit, nothing added). Mmmmm. Since it was, like, $9 a bottle, Disa and I would buy it as a treat every other week or so. One night, I was shopping in Tesco, and I found an Innocent Smoothie that was one day past its expiration date. Thinking I could probably get a deal out of this, I walked up to a store clerk and asked, "Hey, this is one day past its expiration date. Can I get a discount on it?" He looked at me and was like, "Oh thank you for informing me. No, unfortunately, we're no longer able to sell it to you." I was baffled and I argued, "Ok...well, then can you just give it to me? I mean, are you just going to throw it out?" He smiled at me as if talking to a person with Downs Syndrome and said sorry, but that was not possible as he took it out of my hands. I was saddened, angry, and totally confused.

We live in a privileged society. I grow weary of this game of wealth vs humanity.

I walked into Target yesterday and had to stop and consciously breathe before continuing further into the store. I had been feeling overwhelmed by EVERYBODY coming into town this week, but as I walked into the store, I was nearly pushed into a panic attack. Fuck consumerism. People were frantically rushing about trying to find last minute Christmas presents that will mean little to nothing other than "Oh, you remembered me." Granted, I have and sometimes do still fall into this trap, though for the past three years, I have been finding alternative ways of expressing my friendship for people over the holidays.

***********************************************************

I am so ADD. So I'm in the middle of writing the blog, and I'm like, "Hmmm...I wonder where the Tucson chapter of Food Not Bombs meets....

So if everything goes to my plan, I'll be helping out with FNB on Saturday before going up to Phoenix to pick Becca Becca up from the airport. Weeee! Anyone want to join in with FNB?

Ooo...I also discovered the Tucson Peace Calendar while I was at it. Nice. Good events going on (including a Winter Solstice celebration on Sat.)

Sweet.

Ooo

2008-12-14T14:23:00.000-08:00

I didn't post my finalized promo! Here you go. =)

Sore neck, distant thoughts

2008-12-09T22:57:00.000-08:00

I remember the fist time I flew. I was not attached to nor was I climbing on anything. I was 17 and had just walked into my high school's dance room after school. I was attending rehearsal for a dance piece that was to be in our "Seniors Onstage" talent show. I was asked to demonstrate a pas de chat (a leap that is always likened to a cat jumping). I remember taking off, and for the first time in my life, was suspended in air. I could see the floor moving beneath me and I could feel my legs trembling because I had never been held mid-flight like this before. I landed, and my classmates stared at me. "Did you see that?! It was like the Matrix!" someone said. I took a long hard look at myself in the mirror in total disbelief. It had something to do with my Qi, but I didn't have the words for it at the time.

And it was from that moment forward that I was determined to learn how to fly.

....which I promptly forgot about the minute I left the high school parking lot that same day.

I believe strongly that my life is perfect in its imperfection. Experiences that I would like to throw into my "Regrets" pile always seem to land, roll down the side, and whizz away on some new epic adventure...kinda like the "On Top of Spaghetti" song about the runaway meatball.

The combination of being born with Lymphangioma and idolizing my grandfather for the humanitarian medical work he did led me to pursue medicine. When I realized that my body, mind, and spirit were being eaten away by the intense amount of stress created from being pre-med, I left. Now, I was on a mission. How do I make my spirit match my profession?

So, like a freight train, I tackled the liberal Christian ministry with all of my might. I was going to revolutionize religion. I was going to take on the Christian Right and make them realize that their intolerance and hateful ways were destroying society. I was going to bring religion, or at least Christianity, back to the original message....the message of unconditional love. And NOT ONLY was I going to do this, I was going to do it through art while reconciling sexuality with a seemingly uninviting institution. They'll learn, became my mantra.

...Or perhaps I was the one to learn that I was NOT the person to do this. I realized halfway into my internship in Cleveland that perhaps it was a problem that I didn't even believe in Jesus. Maybe that should have been a sign years ago....

So I left religion completely.

And art became the only logical next step. Why had I put my spirit on hold for so long? What made me think that I had to have a 9-5 job to be happy?

Yesterday, I walked into my friend, Aurelia's space. From the beams 25 feet above me hung two steel chain loops. "Wanna go up?" she asked me.

Don't do it, my mind warned. The last time you did chains it was painful as hell. Plus, these are really high. You're not strong enough yet and your hands are already sweating. You'll surely slip. Don't do it....

"Sure," I said.

She went up first, climbing the black silks to the ceiling and then hanging her body from one of the loops. I followed closely after. As I put the chains around the middle of my back, I took a deep breath in, and then settled in. "Ok...you can take the silks away," Aurelia told one of the people below us. I panicked for a moment. But what if I need to grab hold of them? As they were pulled off to the side, I turned back into my body. The pressure from the cold metal felt wonderfully massaging through my clothes. I let myself hang for a moment before starting to move. Aurelia's body pressed against mine and I felt safe. We moved in and out of shapes, hanging upside down, moving as one being, bearing each other's weight. I felt like I could be up there forever.

And then it was time to descend. Once down on the ground, I checked my phone...half and hour had passed. Amazing.

****************************************************************

I've taken on "gratitude" as a meditation lately, and as I focus more upon it, more manifests over which I am grateful. It's a beautiful cycle. This morning, as I was driving home to Sierra Vista, I was trying to pull out of a gas station at a busy intersection. An elderly man stopped traffic for me so that I could ease in. I almost cried. How sappy is that? But it has left me in a peaceful and happy mood all day.

Depression has been darting in and out of my life lately. There's a trend with winter months that does this, and with the added stress of job hunting for next year, I feel that it is more prevalent now than in past years.

So I've taken to perscribing "anti-depressants" for myself. These are activities for which I can feel accomplished, productive and/or spiritually filled. Yesterday's anti-depressents included:

Scary depressing situation: Arriving at my sister's house which is very cave-like and cold. I had about an hours worth of work to accomplish.
Anti-depressant: Sitting on top of my truck midday while eating leftovers, soaking up the last rays of the sun and working on my computer.

Scary depressing situation: Dealing with other people's stressful lives and problems (which I don't mind, and even enjoy helping out, but I also need to replenish my spiritual energy afterward).
Anti-depressant: A night with Chai. Just what the doctor ordered. I arrived at his house, we cooked a fabulous vegetarian dinner, and then went to the university to see a free drum concert combining steel drums, two Afro-Brazilian music groups, and a Taiko Drum group. At the end of the night, they brought all groups back onstage and played until the audience could dance no more. I was sweaty, exhausted....and exhuberant. A chill night of sipping tea, eating chocolate oatmeal brownies, and listening to meaningful music on Chai's iPod followed afterward. We sat at his kitchen table, sharing his headphones with one earbud each, skipping from one song to another that, at one point or another, has held significance in our life and friendship together. And then we found out the chocolate brownies we had been consuming ravenously had been moldy. Well, I guess there had to be SOME kind of adventure. =)

Scary depressing situation: Being back in Sierra Vista and NOT feeling productive. I'm cool with being back in SV, but when I'm feeling lethargic and I start sleeping a lot, I get worried.
Anti-depressant: Pilates class tonight! I need to actively plan activities for myself. Tomorrow, I think I'm going to go visit my crazy Honors English teacher at the high school. I mean, really, I owe him a lot.

My body is sore, and I'm so very happy. Here's to getting stronger: in spirit, in body, in super-humaness. ;) I wish the same for you.

Fire in Mirrors

2008-12-04T22:03:00.001-08:00

“Your new picture is super hot, btw,” I typed.
“Really?” appeared back on my screen, “Wow. I feel almost liberated that you said that. I’ve felt like I can’t tell you the same about the pictures you post…you’re so beautiful, and it feels sacrilegious to say such things about you.”

I stared at my screen and tried to take in the compliment, though I know it wasn’t intended as a compliment…it was a genuine expression of love. In two and a half years, I have not yet gotten used to being held on such a high pedestal, and while it is an amazing feeling to lighted so brightly by someone whom I also hold dear to my heart and have mutually positioned in a place of high adoration, I feel…what happens when I fall? I’ve always had an issue with receiving compliments, though I have been consciously working on being more gracious. I will simply have to get over my awkwardness over time, I suppose. But is it all illusion? What if I’m not as spiritual/deep/beautiful as people make me out to be? I am bothered by pedestals. Always have been. And then there’s my screaming superficial ego that says “more, more!” GOD. Why can’t my Gemini spirit just agree with itself for once? The mirror has once again been placed in front of me.

********************************************************************

I’ve just started working out with an amazing Tucson company called Flam Chen. They’re mostly a stilting/fire troupe, but they’ve gotten heavy into aerial silks lately. The energy there is really good, and I’ve gotten to reconnect with my fireball of a friend, Aurelia (who I had no idea was performing with them). My life is always crazy wonderful in that I am given what I ask for, and if I don’t get what I want, I am given something greater. To this, I am always grateful…..

October 2005

“Are you going down to AZ for Thanksgiving this year?” Xan asked me.
I nodded affirmatively.
“Cool. Hey do you know a group called Flam Chen?”
“No, never heard of them.”
“How could you NOT?! Oh my god…they’re so amazing. I’m surprised you haven’t met them yet. Well, anyway, you need to look them up when you get down there.”
I smiled at my beautiful friend…and also thought that it might be a bit socially weird if I just started stalking this group just to talk to them. I shrugged. I probably know someone who knows someone who knows them. Or something.

Two years later…

Hey Sora Sol. Was just looking at your myspace profile and it looks like you’re doing some pretty awesome work. Keep it up!

--Ruben

I clicked on Ruben’s profile….and sat in front of my screen for a minute trying to absorb what I was seeing. Everything on his profile pointed to him being an integral member of Flam Chen. I immediately wrote him back…asking how long he had been with them, and how he found my profile.

Well, I’ve been with them for a few years. And I found your profile on my friend’s profile. Bri from San Francisco…she’s part of Carpet Bag Brigade over there.

So not only did Ruben NOT know I was originally from Tucson, but I had met Bri through Xan in Cleveland…and the circle was complete.

I do consider myself to be a lucky girl.

On The More Contemplative Side

2008-11-26T23:41:00.000-08:00

I have been reading back over my blog. I guess, mission accomplished. I managed to document pretty thoroughly my first adventures through circus land and training. Though now, my spirit is craving to make a home back up in my head, making a connective bridge between my mind, soul, and fingertips. I realize that not many of my deeper thoughts made it onto written medium over the past six months. At the times of my writing, I simply did not have it in me to both document and spill the inner mechanics of my working soul. So now, back to one.

I said I would try to veer away from my more obscure form of writing for the exercise of expressing myself plainly. Now that I have proven I can do so for an extended amount of time, I am going to allow myself to indulge every once in a while in savory obscurity. Writing plainly limits me quite a bit, for I have made it a habit not to gossip or disclose the personal lives of those around me. Therefore, it’s all about me me me, 24/7 which by no means is healthy for my ego. Writing descriptively in an abstract manner allows me to speak my mind without violating the privacy of those who may be integrated in my feelings. So there.

I am going to do a “then and now” segment.

Then (being, two weeks after I returned home from Europe):

Mirror mirror on the wall, who stares back...a lifeless doll?
An obeisance of consequence, a drain upon this well,
To stand on harrowed knees, objection!
Who has stolen my reflection?
Connect to crimson, attempt is futile,
Failed . Connecting point is absent.
Please restart and try again.

Hide these sunken eyes unfolding,
Glance behind my shoulder. Shudder.
Perhaps I'll be surprised.
Energy evading, slowly fading,
Step back to the other side.

Ironic bath of being faceless,
Turning 'round to face the world,
Despair surmounting, tragic mountain,
Burden on my shoulders 'lone.

Search for missing piece transparent,
Another half, unriddled, shown,
Still in sunlight, choking smothered
By the shadows' piercing bone.

Now:

Gratitude has always been a close companion of mine. I find it hard not to feel my heart overflowing with this powerful energy from minute to minute. (And just as a side note…it’s COMPLETELY coincidental that I’m doing a gratitude blog the night before Thanksgiving. My timing is just wonky like that. So don’t think for a moment that I’m a holiday loving sap. Just don’t do it. =))

It’s strange, even in the dark nights of my soul, I am still grateful. I can’t help it…it’s like disease. But these days, the world feels a little brighter and I can see light at the end of this long, dusty tunnel. Thank you, family and friends who have been holding me up. I've had a lot of weight bearing down on you lately. Thank you, healing life situation. Thank you, opening doors. Thank you, random connections and peaceful meetings. Thank you, ever-blooming relationships. Thank you, necessary endings. Thank you, growth. Thank you, healing body.

And good god...THANK YOU constant high speed internet and free phone calls. ;)

I walked outside today after working out to the unique, refreshing smell of desert rain. It was like smelling the world’s finest perfume. I lie here typing and I can hear it tapping out a beautiful steady rhythm upon my window. What a beautiful sensory experience. I haven’t gotten to feel desert rain for years.

I have gotten the distinct pleasure of spending quality time with one of my soulmates almost every night I’ve spent in Tucson. I am so grateful for him and the wisdom of his soul. I can communicate with him in a way that is more difficult with other people. He understands the language of my heart and we have been sharing in the spastic nature of our quarter-life freakouts. Good to know I have company. =)

**************************************************************

As I was driving to the gym today, I was mulling around the major inner battle I have with causes I’m passionate about. I’ve donated money to different causes throughout my life. I would say about 40% goes to poverty issues, 40% to AIDS organizations, and 20% to miscellaneous causes like world peace and shit. =)

Ok. But here’s the deal. I can be donating my money, but as soon as the cash leaves my hands, I relinquish all control over how it is used. It could go directly to hunger relief in Guinea, or it can go towards placing a radio ad for an organization. Now, does it matter? To some, no. To me, yeah kinda….but that’s because I’m a control freak.

Then there’s volunteering. I spent the first 23 years of my life volunteering. And by this, I mean, going into an organization, doing menial work, and leaving after a few hours patting myself on the back. I know I’m making myself out to sound like a terribly crass person, but this is part of the struggle I’m having. So the question is, do I continue to do this type of work, feeling good about what I’m doing but knowing that I’m not making THAT MUCH of a difference in society? And really, I don’t usually enjoy the work that is arbitrarily designated to “our helpful volunteers”. Bleh.

And now here I stand at a crossroads in my life about to whip out my welding equipment to merge the imminent dividing railroad tracks into one path.

I want to perform. Period. My soul NEEDS to perform. I NEED to get experience in and understanding of this industry. Though I also feel a HUGE pull to impact society in a positive way…NOW…and I’m not talking about stuffing condoms into safe sex packages for my local AIDS organization.

I see one of my closest friends working at a major organization that is creating peaceful relations around the world. SHE’S making a difference. I am beyond proud of her. But at the same time, she’s not completely satisfied with her job. And I ask myself…am I willing to do that? And what kind of a person am I if I answer “no”? I feel that my soul will wither if I give up circus.

So the million dollar question of the day/week/month/year is, “How do I keep my spiritual well filled while making a positive, loving, peaceful impact on the world?”

More contemplation is needed…

Stressful Circus: Oxymoron of the Year?

2008-11-20T12:24:00.000-08:00

Emotional update: I'm solid as a rock, excited about life, and optimistic about the future. It always takes me a week or so to get adjusted to major change...usually with an obtuse (and probably unecessary) dose of anxiety and tears. I am missing my Cleveland family, but definitely not the snow! I find myself grateful that being back in the US, most of fmy friends and loves are a FREE phonecall away. =) I am also deeply grateful for constant, fast internet. My life is so easy compared to two months ago!

The past week has been spent in front of my computer screen and on the phone with potential employers. I never thought I could be so scared and nervous about talking to circuses! Who would have thought? As I picked up the phone to make my first call, my heart beat a little faster. When I was put on the phone with the artistic director of a major US circus, I started shaking. Was this really happening?!

There is still so much uncertainty, but I know I'll find work. There is no other option. Random opportunites keep flying out of left field at me, and it maintains my present state of dumbfoundedness and awe. I am so grateful for whatever energy is bringing me such grace!

Lucid dreams

2008-11-09T13:21:00.000-08:00

"Baby, I just booked a plane ticket to come out and see you. I'll be coming in tomorrow. Be strong, I'm coming." My heart filled with utter excitement. I closed my eyes to breathe in my joy.

As if only a moment had passed, I was being woken up by a soft knocking on my bedroom door. My love stood there, his arms filled with small wrapped parcels. He handed me something flat and square wrapped in red paper. I began to untie the twine around it.

I opened my eyes to my clock flashing 6:30 am. I dissolved into tears. It was only a dream. There would be no one jumping on the next flight out to Arizona to hold and comfort me. There would be no one walking into my bedroom with arms filled with tokens of strength to give to me. I am still on my own and very alone. Night has descended upon my soul, and I fear I have a long, lonely journey ahead of me. And I reflect...when did I get this emotionally dependent? Things have to go back to the way they were...I am becoming weak. I come from a family of warriors. Our honor comes from giving out tremedous amounts of energy while not needing anyone else to replenish our wells.

********************************************************************************

After realizing the extent and obtuse complexity of my family's current situation, I have become overwhelmed, though I have made a firm resolve to play the roles of guardian to my mother and aid to my sister. I have been away from this family far too long.

In this resolve, I decided it would be best if I stay with my mother as close to 24/7 as possible. This means driving her to and from church, which ultimately means, *grumble*, that I have to stay for church lest I hurt her feelings. This thrills me to no end. (Please take note of facetious undertones.) It's bad enough that people think I'm a freak for joining the circus. On top of that...they think I'm Christian. *Groooaaan*

I took a seat in the very back pew in the darkest corner. There, I storyboarded a piece I've had running through my head recently. Through my pen unfolded an entire stage set with ramps, platforms, hydrolic lifts, and beautiful lighting. The dancers came alive in the pages of my notebook.

Occasionally, I would glance up and take note of what was going on around me. I heard "it is our duty to tithe" and "Please, God, guide our new President-elect to make good decisions and surround him with advisors who worship you."

I flinched and had to grind my heels into the floor a few times, lest I flee through the front doors out of pure disgust.

I then looked up at the large copper cross in front of me. It was luminated from behind, a large rose taking up the center. I grew up in front of that cross. I was baptized, confirmed, sung, danced, and even preached under it's luminous prescence. I remember sitting in an empty church, and addressing this inanimate piece of metal, crying tears of anguish and crying out pleas for grace. I remember other times, laughing and offering up thanks.

This was all years ago, and this same cross that once gave me great comfort, now, I realize, puts me ill at ease. This cross is no longer home. It's almost like anti-home, whatever that may be named. This church used to be my sanctuary, and now, it's like an institute for the mentally unstable. I am filled with peace at my decision to leave religion three years ago. My spirituality has been growing so much since then.

On the upside, I finished my piece and it is now officially down on paper. It's my intellectual property now. =)

It's a bit gusty today, and I hope upon hope that these are the winds of change. Keep going, keep going.

Been a while

2008-11-05T14:48:00.000-08:00

Alright. So I'm in Arizona now. As always, I'm learining new things about myself by the day.

My time spent in Cleveland was far too short. I feel as if I breezed in and breezed back out. And while I'm thrilled to be seeing my family back in AZ again, I feel as if I've been in denial over the past two weeks....like maybe if I didn't acknowledge I was leaving again, it wouldn't happen. A stifling sense of being overwhelmed has settled into my stomach, and I didn't finish packing until seconds before I walked out my front door yesterday. Again...I've been in denial.

I woke up early yesterday to make sure I made it down to the polls to vote before I left Ohio. I know, I know...I could have voted early, but really, I wanted to be part of the Election Day craziness! A long layover at the Chicago Midway airport found me in a pensive state, constantly refreshing my web browser to see which states had submitted their results.

Today, I am hopeful. With Obama newly elected, and me being close to blood family, I feel as if there is new opportunity unfolding.

For the moment, I have been spending much time up in my head contemplating how I direct my energy. It seems as if I have been blocking myself lately. I had worked out a deal with a club to perform for them on Halloween night in exchange for letting me film my act in their space during an off-hour. We were supposed to film Monday and as I walked through the doors, I was harvesting feelings of not being ready. As we entered the main area, I found that the stage had not been moved like I had requested (and would not be able to be moved, as it was now bolted into the floor and back wall) which meant I was not able to do my two major drops...which ultimately meant filming in the space would be pointless. Dissappointment filled my heart, but simultaneously, I could not help but wonder...did I do this to myself?

The upside is that I was paid for my Friday night performance which will enable me to film in Arizona if I need to pay for space and camera rental.

Example number two: It's 3:30 and my love and I are just leaving his mom's house which is way out east. "It should take about a half-hour to get to the airport," he predicts. On our way, we hit stand-still traffic. Keep in mind I've been fighting my trip to Arizona long before I booked my plane ticket. After a half-hour of mild freak-out, I centered myself. Ok...I don't necessarily WANT to go to Arizona, but I need to be there. There's no other option. I must make my flight today. I will make my flight today. And suddenly, traffic opened up, and I made my flight with five minutes to spare.

I know I need to keep better tabs on my thoughts, but it become difficult when I come across these intense moments of dispair.

For now, though, I am safe and warm in the sunny desert. It's so good being with my sister again. She is so fabulous. And Chai and I were able to reconnect...always a highlight to be with my soulmate again.

Positive thoughts for a positive tomorrow!

Second cut of the promo

2008-10-24T10:13:00.000-07:00

With new footage. Still waiting on some more to come in so I can swap some clips out.

Promo Promo Promo!

2008-10-20T12:12:00.001-07:00

It feels as if all I've been doing lately is working on my promo materials. CV needs to be updated, dvd needs to be created, pictures need to be posted, producers need to be contacted. Anyway, in my lastest workaholic frenzy, I stayed up until 6 this morning to get this turned out. It's the first cut of my video...very rough, but a good starting place.

Determined and Moving Forward

2008-10-17T09:14:00.000-07:00

I've become very focused over the past week. In fact, I've been so focused, that my roommates have begun to believe that I never leave the pillow garden (where my computer is set up). I'm desperately trying to get my promo materials together. Video editing, I've found, is one of the most tedious processes....in the world...aside from peeling potatoes. Here's what's come out of the past few days:

The search continues!

2008-10-10T23:00:00.000-07:00

Emotional state: crumbly
Mental state: alert and curious
Physical state: Um, could I please just stop eating?

I'm learning a few things about myself. First and foremost, if I'm not performing, I have little to no motivation to condition my body. It's really weird because I'm truly a vain person, so you would think that this fact alone would be motivation for me to work out.

Here's how I've been filling my days:
Tearing recipes out of Vegetarian Times magazine
Researching various circuses (focus on social circus)
Re-organizing my life (closet first)
Planning my trip down to Arizona to be with fam
Days spent at the studio
Teaching on Fridays

I go through daily freakouts and meltdowns about the future. Is this normal? I also am helping all my close friends deal with THEIR freakouts about THEIR futures. So I suppose I'm not so alone, eh? To be fair, I am eternally grateful. I have such an amazing family and extended family that I consider myself to be one of the luckiest people alive. Truly. But man, I really hate having to be supported emotionally, and lately, I feel as if I've been leaning heavily. There have only been a select few times this has occured in this volume so far in my life. Ick!

I also feel as if there is a missing piece of my heart, but as of yet, I cannot identify it. There is somewhat of a sacred lonliness that has taken up residence of my temple. Fear is the root of it, though I cannot identify what of.

So here's the grand scheme of my life in my head at the moment: Find a social circus who is willing to hire me, and save the world through living art. The end.

My composition of this blog seems to be scattered and illogical. I apologize. It happens when I myself and scattered and illogical....which is often.

To bed!

2008-10-04T10:33:00.000-07:00

Monday, September 29, 2008: Coming Back Home

I am sitting on the plane looking at the images flashing on the small television screen in front of me:
Temperature: Really fucking cold
Distance: 1860 miles to go
Altitude: I’m on an airplane. Guess.

This time, no tears, and a sleepy Aaron sits next to me writing in his journal. I’m coming home.

The first chapter of my new adventure is drawing to a close. Things came full circle at the farm. April started out with tears, an aching heart, a wind of excitement as new possibilities rested at the gates of the Heathrow airport. Our course started out with 14 students and ended with 12. There were vehicle breakdowns, and emotional breakdowns. And then there was the breakdown of my soul and reinvention of self. I am coming home a trapeze artist and future circus performer, and still in some ways, I am coming home broken, though this worries me little because I know it is part of the growing process. I am coming home, and I anticipate what is to happen when I am greeted with my old life again. I can hardly fathom having warm water run freely from my tap. I have not touched a microwave in six months. I am excited that I will not have to worry about whether water and electricity will be available to me from hour to hour. I will have color back in my wardrobe once again.

Aaron and I met Carola in Camden Town last night. I started to cry when we left. Up until that point, I wouldn’t allow myself to think what life would be like without her bright spirit from day-to-day. I’m also already missing Disa profusely, though I know I’ll be seeing her in a matter of a couple months, at most. Life just doesn’t seem feel right without my Giggle Twin.

**************************************************************

I now sit in the Detroit airport waiting to hop on a plane to Cleveland. My heart is jumping so rapidly that it’s making my body bounce up and down uncontrollably. Aaron has been poking fun at my excitement. It’s very strange not having to convert pounds to dollars and being surrounded by American accents and vernacular again.

My whirlwind tour around Europe was as amazing and as deeply transforming as I could have hoped. No, it was not a fairytale journey…it was real, and it was brilliant.

Highlights:

- Sweet reunion with my beautiful heart at Circus HQ. I can’t stop joy from bubbling from my soul. I laugh and giggle constantly. Constant and continuous hugs.

- Hippy juggling festival in Bristol and crashing on the couch of James, our wonderfully generous host. The festival reminded me of a small-scale circus arts Woodstock of the 70’s. I got to hula hoop in a bikini top and enjoy the last rays of the UK summer. And James rocked…so cultured and kind. He insisted we take his bed to sleep in.

- Exploring CERN in Switzerland where Aaron’s sparkling superhero friend, Kathy, works. Woah. There’s some crazy research going down there.

- Hanging out at Kathy’s flat with her friends for an evening of home cooked gourmet food, delicious wine, and many laughs.

- Salvidor Dali museum complete with bathroom sinks lining the ‘crest of the crescent wall’ (as Mr. Bonk would describe it). Dali works are alive, mind blowing and brilliant. I want to reside in the mind of this twisted artist.

- Barcelona, sweet Barcelona. Eat at Sinatra restaurant, stay in fun and funky hostel.

- Back to London! Final meal at InSpiral (AMAZING vegetarian restaurant…very hip)…and much conversation with Carola. As we leave, my hands ache from talking so much. My heart aches as I say “goodbye for now” to someone so close to my heart.

- Fast realization that Bonk and I make a kick-ass team. We fucking rock. =D

My heart is in a good place. Disa and I bought Ann’s doubles trapeze bar and will be practicing over our winter break. This means that we’ll have to find a meeting point somewhere. The Zimbi Sisters continue to fly!

I have much to do before the next circus season starts. Rigging to acquire, affairs to put in order, family to visit and spoil, friends with whom I desperately need to reunite.

2008-09-18T02:19:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, September 17, 2008: Glad That’s Out of the Way

Ok. So I’m now in a better, non-crying-so-hard-I’m-hyperventilating state of being. I stayed in said state for a straight 24 hours which, if you think about it, does nothing for providing oxygen to the brain, which makes one pass out, which, when coming back to consciousness, then resumes the cycle. So maybe I didn’t go for 24 hours straight because I did have quite a few periods of unconsciousness.

On a totally unrelated side note, I have discovered that pure lavender oil is not only relaxing and soothing, but acts as an antibiotic better than Neosporin. I got a rather sizable gushy, oozy (and really painful) burn on my leg from the web rope the day before the showcase, but was so preoccupied with everything else, forgot to tend to it. Today, I decided that lest my leg be amputated due to infection, I should probably start caring for it. I woke up in the morning, applied lavender oil, and tonight, it is already scabbed over. No more gushy, oozyness. Nice. Thanks for the tip (and oil), Dis.

The course has ended and we are back at Circus Headquarters (The Farm). Our season has come full circle. There are a few job offers on the table, though I am not quite sure which one, if any, I will accept. There are many factors that must be considered deeply first.

My heart still aches from embarrassment, though I am in a better place. I have tried desperately to step outside of my body and look at where I might be able to learn from all of this. At this moment, I need to prove myself wrong. I need to prove to myself that this one showcase will not, cannot define me. And though there are still demons whispering in my ear that I am unintelligent, ugly, talentless, I know my roots will reach deep into the earth to find nourishment…somewhere. Yes, must first get past this shakiness of self doubt…then I can step forward. But right now, I can still only see darkness.

I am coming home in twelve days! It seems surreal. Disa and I have been clearing out our bunkroom. I can’t imagine waking up in the morning and not instantly sharing in laughter with her. The Scotsmen next door always said we were their alarm clock: hear the Giggle Twins…it’s time to get up. I spoke to Brian on the phone today and it seems we have a new member of our family. No no…B didn’t get pregnant….but we do have a new black kitten named Riku. Riku means “earth”. So in one household, we will have the Sky (me), Sun (Brian), and Earth (little Riku). Sigh. I’ve never really been a cat person, but I’m excited nonetheless.

Jules came to visit me last week. What a tease…it was only for a couple of hours. Her grandmother passed away, and since her father’s side is English, the funeral was here in the UK. She and her sister made a special side trip to come and see me. It meant the world to me to be able to be in her energy again, if only for a short while. Jules…I love you so much. I can’t wait to see you when I get back.

Aaron arrives in two days. Holy fuck. Two days! Our itinerary looks as such:
Circus HQ to Bristol for a circus arts festival
Bristol to Geneva to visit Aaron’s friends
Geneva to Figueres for the Salvidor Dali museum
Figueres to Barcelona for a street performer’s festival and Picasso museum
Barcelona to London for…shenanigans. (This translates to: no set plans yet.)

To bed with me. More cleaning tomorrow!

Sunday, September 14, 2008: Coming Home a Failure

We just finished our showcase a few hours ago. Because I’ve been having a meltdown all night, I can only intelligibly transcribe the running monologue in my head.
You are a failure. You are going back to the US as an unintelligent, talentless, ugly girl who can never and will never make it in this business. You came here to do silks and you bombed it. You worked all season to build a pristine act and couldn’t make it through. How could you have forgotten my blindfold, your one and only significant prop? You chocked. Your body is a weak piece of shit. You failed. You will never make it as a silks artist. You will never make it as anything. You can’t speak intelligibly, you can’t stay on top of things, you can’t walk normally, you can’t dance, you can’t do what you’ve put your heart into doing. YOU are a failure, and it’s on video tape forever to be shown to all future ACA classes.

In the most sterile monochromatic manner, I will describe what happened, as I have no energy to elucidate colorfully:
- Silks were dry and slippery to climb
- Forgot to give my blindfold to Ann which I realized halfway through my act which made me lose concentration
- …Which, coincidentally, made me almost fall out of my single ankle hang
- When reached point to be blindfolded, made split second decision to climb the silks unblindfolded to do my finish trick
- Got halfway up the silks, arms gave out, had to come down, no finish trick

My silks act was the one act I was not worried about at all. I’d done it a number of times under similar circumstances, and it was supposed to be bomb proof. I nailed it in every rehearsal. I nailed it in every show leading up to this one. And here, I bombed.

Disa and I did, though, end up nailing doubles trapeze. Best performance yet. I do wish with all my heart that it meant more to me than my silks act.

This failure is going to bed. Please forgive me. I wish I was bringing honor back home.

2008-09-12T10:54:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, September 10, 2008: Take Two

Um, so I actually did end up seeing Chris “tomorrow” after all. He left a bag of underwear and socks in my bunk room so had to meet us in Hampstead. It was a little treat getting to see him once again after we had said goodbye. Most of us ended up going out to an Indian restaurant, and it was a jovial evening.

Today, I have finished quite possibly the most surreal build-up of my life. Since we are not setting up our own tent here on Hampstead Heath, we were required to help with the Zippo’s build-up. It’s like you see in the movies: a dismal circus lot…no laughter, the sound of stakes being pounded, people barking out orders. It makes me wonder: how is it that something which brings so much joy to thousands of people be so depressing and lifeless behind the scenes?

The tasks here on Zippos are split up according to sex (not gender). Men do the hard laborious work (putting up the tent). Women do light lifting and shifting. What the fuck? Like, are we stuck in the 19th century? I mean, women don’t even ratchet down side poles here!

Despite this usual segregation, the women in our group pushed hard enough for the men’s tasks that the tent master graciously (grudgingly) allowed us to work. “Where are your boys?” he asked. “I need your strong boys.” Disa, Jackie and I looked at him and blinked. “You have us, Neil. What needs to be done?” retorted Jackie. He finally conceded that we could do the seating (extensive stadium seating for 800 people), lifting of the side poles, and setting up the foyer tent.

It’s going to be interesting performing our showcase in the Zippos tent. It’s so much bigger than ours!!

Today was also the last time that I will ever be required to put on a hard hat and a pair of gloves to build up. If I do it again, it will be by choice…and I’ll most likely be getting paid to do so. All things considered, I think it will not be my last build-up.

We just got in from rigging in Zippos tent. Wow. I got to go up into the rafters. It’s terrifying sitting on a steel beam 40 feet in the air with no harness (…well, except to haul me up. There were about 7 people at the end of a line pulling me up, but once I got to the top, I had to detach from the safety in order to do the rigging.) I wasn’t to the point of shaking uncontrollably, but I wasn’t comfortable either. If someone were to have videoed of me, they would have seen a tense smile, and occasionally, white knuckles.

Tomorrow is the beginning of mad rehearsals. Bed time!

Monday, September 08, 2008: Connective Goodbyes

My friend, Mazz (Chris), just left today. A few days ago, I thought I might cry when the moment came, but I didn’t. In fact, it felt like I would be seeing him tomorrow. Some people come in and out of my life and I know when the time is right, they’ll be right there. I have no doubt this is the case with my beautiful friend. We had an awesome two days here at the circus lot. He’ll be my only friend to see me perform over here. He got to see a fantastic performance of the Zimbi Sisters…as far as technicality goes, it was our best run yet…except for the fact that my costume got COMPLETELY wrapped around the bar during our finish trick. When the audience caught on that I was stuck, they waited and clapped in anticipation while Dis and I flipped one way over the bar, then the other, then the first way again, trying desperately to untangle. They erupted into thunderous applause when we finally got ourselves free. We couldn’t hide our laughter.

Proudly, I made it through the epic show…doing doubles first, then my silks act with only a ten minute break in between to change, stretch, and beat the tectonic acid out of my arms …then web rope to close the show. I learned the power of the phrase “I can”….it got me through my silks act when I thought I would surely exhaust every bit of energy before I finished.

It’s been really strange having a friend from the “outside world” come into my life here. Luckily, Chris is really comfortable living in sparse luxury, so he acclimated immediately. He instantly fell into great conversation with many of my friends here and we spent the first night (and morning) partying and talking incessantly. There was an ice cream truck on the lot, bumper cars, carnival games, and a bar…all free.

Funny story about bumper cars in the UK:

Once upon a time, England introduced bumper cars into their fun fairs. However, the eeeevil Health and Safety department deemed the name “bumper cars” too unsafe…it clearly implies that one should run head first into the first car they meet. So “Bumper Cars” was officially banned, and now the ride is called “Dodgems”…it’s safer. The end.

I digress. I realized this weekend how much I’ve missed having Chris’ energy in my life. And what lovely coincidence that it would show up here…in a period where I was in need of such nourishment for my soul. I drank in his company. I am so grateful for him.

I have not slept much these past couple of days, so now is the time to catch up. We jump to Hampstead Heath tomorrow…iiiiittt’s showcase time!

Friday, September 05, 2008: Calling In Ugly

It seems that lately, there are a lot of obstacles culminating in my path. Perhaps it is because I’m graduating in only a matter of 10 days or maybe it’s just bad timing.

It never stops hurting. I have never gone a day where it does not hurt to have people ask whether I have a toothache or ask what kind of accident I was in. This is the root of my frustration about ignorant people making ignorant assumptions about others whom they have no prior interaction. Most people can never relate to this, and I do not speak of it often. I feel acknowledging it will hold me back. But today, I am not only acknowledging, I am wallowing, and I cannot seem to pull myself out.

Disa and I were practicing doubles in the tent today. We are in Southampton on a military base right now performing for their annual gala thingy. Soldiers are in and out of our tent all day. One man stopped in today, looked at me while I was still on the ground and shouted at the top of his lungs, “What happened to that one? Was she in a fight?” Ann replied back that the two of us are bruised and battered because it comes with our art. He wouldn’t budge. “No, that one. She was in a fight, she was!” I scaled the rope and flipped up onto the bar, my back facing him, and equally as loud, said, “Today, my friend, I do hope you learn a lesson about making assumptions about others. I was not in a fight.” I couldn’t say anymore, lest I break into tears.

The entire rest of our session, I was frazzled. Usually comments like these roll off my back like water. Today, it stuck, and it left me paralyzed in self-doubt. If people cannot get past this…this face...then what the fuck am I doing here? If they can’t watch me and instantly stop looking at my face, I have no power at all.

To add to this, I also still cannot walk, dance, or run properly. I still look like Quasimodo. I know my back is still healing, I know my sciatic nerve is still healing…I can see progress. But damn. It does nothing for my confidence.

Oh, and I’m still having weight issues. I know I’m thin, but when I look down, all I see is a massive belly and jiggly thighs. Aaaaarrrrgggg…..

Can I PLEASE get a psychiatrist on the lot?! =P

For now, I can use my hair as a curtain, as a shield. I know everyone who is a friend would tell me not to. I have no other choice of nurturing my fragile confidence for this time. There is no feasible means of masking my movement, so I am swallowing it and trying not to let it get me down. Fuck, just keep me up in the air where people can’t see my face and I don’t have to use my legs for balance. I’m fine once I’m flying. And as for body weight issues…I know I have to keep myself from jumping off the deep end, but I can also monitor what I eat more closely. Baby steps.

***************************************************
My friend, Mazz, comes tomorrow. He’s graduated from U of A and is heading to Italy to claim his dual citizenship and work on farms over there. Good for him. He’s one of those super-brilliantly-minded individuals who says “fuck normal society” and goes off on their own adventure. Damn straight. He’s stopped off in the UK to visit me and another one of his friends. He’ll be the first of my friends to visit me on this circus lot. I’m almost giddy (though, our box…erm…room is in shambles right now. It always gets like this on show days.) I warned him that it’s a small room…I’m not sure if he exactly realizes how small. His life and mine always seem to miss each other, but both of us agreed that we would cry if we didn’t see each other before we’re in different countries…again. Man, I’m so proud of him. Ah, my brooding philosopher is coming!

**************************************************

Tomorrow will be the first time I do doubles trapeze, silks, and web rope in the same show. And Mazz will be watching…and a bunch of drunk 30-45 year-old soldiers and their significant others. I’m not sure what makes me more nervous. I mean, really…today, the biggest applause Dis and I got was when I stuck my head between her legs to do a shoulder stand on her knees. Should that make me more nervous or less? Plus, I have to be able to get through my marathon silks routine almost directly after. AAAHHH. Ok, I’m talking in circles. I’m going to bed.

Oh wait. I just remembered…the invitation to this function classified “fancy dress”…

…which, in this country, means costume. So tonight, we performed for mostly clowns…though there was one woman dressed as a cannon…and a myriad of other “circus” characters. Lol.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008: Mind in Tumbles

Aaron comes in 19 days! I’m so excited. Not that I’m counting. I feel like I’ve been missing people a lot less, but I think that’s because I’m working from 8 am until 11 pm every night. I’ve also been worrying a lot less because my mind is too exhausted to think. Lately, my body moves first and my mind follows after. I think I need to keep this in check, but for now, it’s working for me.

My acts aren’t complete train wrecks like I originally thought. After watching the video tape of our shows from Sunday, I am assured that we’ll be just fine. There’s much more to clean up, but it’s coming along.

Martin was on the lot yesterday. We were all scheduled to have private meetings with him. While Ann and Greg met with him in the morning, we had open ring time to practice. Ann came into the tent around noon. Dis and I were up on our doubles bar. “Disa, Sora, come here.” We looked at each other and jumped down to the mat. We stood in front of Ann while she finished up a conversation with someone else. “Hold me,” I said to Disa, half in jest. We both knew what was coming, and we both wore the same worried look…an ominous energy buzzing in the air. We faced Ann hand in hand.

I am not ready yet to disclose what transpired, though I brooded all day yesterday, and wafts of my moodiness have carried into today.

Life has become uber-complicated over the past month. I think that perhaps things might now start to work themselves out, but I find I must first make some difficult decisions. There are a few things weighing heavily on my heart. I wish I could publish more, but for this moment, I cannot. I will write more on this when I can.

*********************************************************
Things I’ve learned while at circus school:

- You never appreciate water and electricity until you don’t have it…which is often.

- You can never have too many socks or underwear. You never know when you’ll get to do laundry next.

- Glitter is a part of life. It sticks to you even after you take a shower. There’s no escaping it. Just accept it.

- For women, thonged costumes are expected. But don’t spread your legs ever…you’ll be beaten within an inch of your life.

- Just because someone’s my teacher does not mean I instantly have to respect them. I have to show respect, but I do not necessarily have to feel it. If I think a teacher is sexist and cantankerous or lazy and mean-spirited , then that’s my opinion . Will I still give 100% in their class? Absolutely…because whether I like them or not is irrelevant to how much I’m willing to improve myself.

Sunday, August 31, 2008: End of August?!!

I do not believe for one second that we’re at the end of August. It was only yesterday that I sat at Heathrow Airport typing my first blog about this new adventure. Holy shit.

*********************************************
It’s Saturday, during our 3pm show.
I bend over to stretch my legs as the group juggling act progresses in the ring. I look up. My “giggle twin” stands in front of me in an exact copy of my costume. Today, the Zimbi Sisters get thrown to the wolves. Disa smiles. “You ready?” she asks. I give a half smile but don’t say anything. She hugs me. “You’re gonna do just fine.”

We stand behind the ring curtain. Greg starts his pre-act schpiel. “In their debut performance, I present to you….the Soul Sisters!” Disa and I giggle at the name he chose. She leans into me. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you fall.” I smile. “I’ve got you,” I whisper back.

We enter the ring hand in hand. I don’t feel ready. I can barely visualize the choreography in my head. What if I do something to hurt Dis? What if I land on her wrong and break her leg? My hands are already sweating.

We ascend the rope to the trapeze. I throw myself at Disa’s legs and she catches me. The audience cheers loudly. I go into a shoulder stand on her legs. To move into the next move, I must first get my head out from between her legs so that I can drop down onto her feet. If I can’t get my head clear, I can snap my neck.

I can’t get my head clear.

Fuck. My choices are to drop into the next move and hope for the best or call for her to drop me to the ground. I choose the former. I land the move, but the impact is so much that it pulls Disa off the bar. She hangs onto the ropes and calls for me to drop. I land on the crash mat like a Cat Woman stand-in. I get up, present and scan desperately for our climbing rope. Where is it?! Did someone tie it off to a pole in the back? And what do I do when I get back up to the bar? What the fuck comes next?! What feels like years later, I finally find Ian who is holding the rope in his hand and make eye contact with him. Once back on the trapeze, Disa tries to communicate something to me, but I’m not hearing English come out of her mouth. I am so discombobulated that I can’t even remember what comes next. I go on default. I set myself to do the trick again.

We finish the act and take our call. Once backstage, I burst into tears. “I’ve been in this business too damn long to be forgetting choreography!” I bawl.

Greg and Ann come backstage. “Great first act!” they say. “In fact, even Zaya thought that the drop was on purpose.”

**********************************************************
Greg came and talked to me later. “The reason we throw acts into the ring before they’re 100% ready is because you learn how to deal with stuff like what happened today exponentially faster. It speeds up the learning curb tremendously.” *Sigh*. He’s right though. Disa and I now have a plan as to what happens when we do mess up.

I also debuted with the web rope act (which, right now stands as a solo, but will be performed as an ensemble in the final showcase by Disa, Jackie, Carola, and me). Disa and Jackie have been doing this act since the beginning of the season. For the first time, I got to close the show. I got into my 1960’s day-glow hot pants and halter top, lime green go-go boots, and high ponytail and rocked it out with Andrew. I came down feeling like a rockstar. It wasn’t a perfect performance, but for it being only the second time I’ve ever run the act with music, I felt pretty damn good. Plus, Andrew spun me so fast that it took me all night to stretch the pain out of my right foot from all the g-force pushing the blood down there….which is really a cool feeling.

********************************************************
I just got in from a day of shows and end-of-season barbeque. It just goes without saying…I’m exhausted. Silks is getting much easier (though today, after being announced as having “amazing grace”…I stepped out of the ring curtain and promptly got tangled in the silks while still on the ground. Once backstage again, I laughed until I cried. I’ll just stick to being in the air, thank you.). Doubles trapeze is also getting less arduous. Disa and I rocked our act today. Again…it has a long way to go, but at least I didn’t drop. All shows were taped today and we just finished playing them back in the tent. I look so funny on the web rope. Like…is that really me? Web rope is a cool act to end with because, to me, it’s relaxing. All I have to do is let Drew spin me and I just go through the moves with a cheesy smile on my face. There isn’t any really difficult technique involved…and the crowd loves it. What is it with seeing people spin that’s so fascinating?

I find myself getting exceedingly stressed out, fostering great feelings of inadequacy, so I have to consciously count my triumphs. Here are a few:
- Beginning of season: Came in with a silks act that was as slow as molasses. Now: Moving faster, using harder tricks. I’ve cut my silks act down to around 5 minutes and I’ve thrown in a lot of new material. Ann’s also cleaned up my technique tons.
- Beginning of season: Never touched a circus trapeze bar. Now: Have a doubles act with Disa that we plan on expanding upon once back in the States. I can now really call myself a “trapeze artist”. Ha.
- Beginning of season: Hula hoops? Like as in plural? Now: Getting “pick-ups” solid and starting split-work with multiple hoops. It’s a loooong road.

Martin comes again tomorrow to meet with all of us. Good night, good night!

2008-08-29T14:15:00.000-07:00

Friday, August 29, 2008: La La La Long Hair and Potholes

Bedford has been a unicyclist’s worst nightmare. Well, actually, the ground has been pretty nightmarish for all of us. It’s very bumpy and there are potholes everywhere. I keep finding them…but luckily, I haven’t taken out either ankle. This morning, as we finished up seating, Carola, Drew, Tam, and Ian peeled back the ring mat to fill in the holes. They had to take a shovel to the ground, scooping up bumps and placing them where needed. Bless them.

******************************************************************

Yesterday was, as expected, a very very long day. Call time was at 10:30 am in full make-up. Martin showed up around 1 pm. We ran through every single act, stopping after each one so that Martin could critique. Hoops was an absolute train wreck. We were the first act through the curtain after the opening number. I was so worried about keeping my pink wig nailed down to my head that I completely forgot I was still wearing my clogs when I stepped through the curtain. Fuck me. It all went to hell after that.

Backstage, I made myself start thinking about my silks act right away. I would not let this hold me back. I have a philosophy that just because something starts out rough (the day, a performance, a job), it doesn’t mean it can’t do a complete 180. Suddenly, I was standing on the runway about to step through the curtain. This would be the first time running my full act…I knew not whether I would have the stamina to get through it all. It was also only the second time I’ve been on the silks with my new long hair flying free. In the past, I’ve always pulled it back. My music started and I stepped out.

“Christophari’s Dream” played over the speaker system. I started to climb. I came to the point where I mentally prepare for the sudden change in music…and my first drop.

And suddenly, instead of hearing Apocalyptica, Tool blared loudly instead.

“This isn’t my music!” I called out. They were playing my original compilation. No one heard me. And apparently…no one noticed. Do I continue on with my new act or resort back to the old one? In a split second, I decided that even though it didn’t fit the music at all, I would keep going with my new act. Someone would catch on eventually.

The song eased into Massive Attack. “Is this your old music?” shouted Ann, “I’m so sorry!!”

I came down to get blindfolded and my music was changed. Back up, final drop, and big smile for Martin. I made it.

“Come here,” he said, “Sit down.”

Here we go.

“It’s a great act.”

But…?

“In fact, I don’t have much more to say than that. It’s a great act. You perform it well and everything is just great. I like the costume, too. I’m not sure the braids really work, but I’m not sure that they don’t work. You might want to try harder to prove that the blindfold is real, since it is.”

That’s it? He's supposed to tear it to shreds!

I thanked him and ran off stunned. Small triumphs of today: Did my act full out with long hair and wrong music on the bouncy silks (which make the act about five times harder because they’re harder to climb)...and Martin liked it. Oh yeah…and I didn’t give myself whiplash.

Doubles trapeze came next. To Disa’s dismay, she was told she needed to get a hairpiece to maker her hair longer. The act itself had no critiques. “It’s a good solid act,” Martin said, “Jolly good. Now go away.” Hmmm…

Martin spent much more time with some of the other students which made me wonder…were my acts just shit, so he didn’t feel the need to waste time with me? Ann says he’s honest…he wouldn’t tell us it was good if he didn’t see it as such. Well, that’s comforting.

********************************************************************

I just got in from the most amazing show ever. Disa NAILED her new swinging trapeze routine. There’s one move that she’s inconsistent in getting and usually ends with her flying down the safety line. When she landed it, we screamed at the top of our lungs.

The audience was amazing. Our tent was absolutely packed, which is a first for a self-promo show. I got through my full silks act…correct music and all. =) Jo got chucked into the ring with her contortion act…and she rocked it. She’s doing it to a Prince song, and it’s so fitting.

Tomorrow, Disa and I are getting chucked into the ring with our doubles act. AAAAHHHH!!

So tonight, fare thee well. I’m passing out.

2008-08-27T10:35:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, August 27, 2008: A New Me

Martin (owner of ACA and Zippos Circus) is coming tomorrow. We’re having a full dress rehearsal with all acts being thrown into the show. I predict…disaster…though I’m open to being pleasantly surprised.

Disa and I finally have our doubles costumes. We kinda look like Who-villers straight out of “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas”. They’re cute…and functional. We’re going to test run them today.

****************************************************************

Once again, my life has taken an unexpected turn. I am seeing a possible alteration in my very muddy future plans. So…maybe it’s not really an alteration. Maybe it’s just my future taking shape. Please send good energy to me. I am facing some very difficult decisions. Not so uncommon…I have no idea which way life is going to swing. I take comfort, however, that I have a soul mate who’s life is paralleling mine at the moment. Yay for support systems. =)

***************************************************************

I walked to the next town over yesterday to get my hair done. I had very cryptic instructions from Fatu, the woman who was to do my hair: Walk down Midland Road. Enter the Post Office, buy hair supplies. Wait for her to arrive.

It seems that my mood set off the scenery, the sky became lead gray and a small breeze blew through my bangs. I looked at my surroundings. Oh. I’m not in Britain any more, I thought, I’m around 76th and St. Clair in Cleveland. All up and down the street litter traveled on the wind. I stepped over an apple core as I glanced through iron bars into a clothing boutique. Every other door opened into an off-license liquor store. Most everything in between was either a Kebab shop or greasy fast food joint. I resorted to my default city mentality…no eye contact, both hands clutching the straps of my backpack, and keeping my awareness extended far behind me.

After stopping in the post office/beauty supply shop (oooohhh…it all makes sense now), I picked up my necessary items, called Fatu, and made my way over the rusty bridge which was supposed to lead me to her apartment. I passed billboards that had not been changed since 1976…faded, peeling, desecrated. Shadowy figures slumped up against buildings and watched me intently as I passed. My eyes took it all in. This was a very ethnic neighborhood. Is it true for every light-skinned country that those of darker skin are pushed out to the margins of society? Rage flared up inside of me.

Fatu greeted me at the door….a beautiful African woman whose main language is French. The entire time, we communicated with short phrases and smiles. It was like every other time I had gotten my hair braided in the past: I sat in a wooden chair in a small room while talk shows (mostly American, interestingly enough) fuzzily blared over the television which rested on an impromptu stand. Seven hours later, I walked out with long braided hair.

The response to my new look was overwhelmingly positive back on the lot. Ann screamed and jumped up and down when she first saw me. “You look like an entirely different person,” someone said. It’s funny how hair can do that, huh? I’m just happy I don’t have to do my hair for six months. Hell yeah. Greg just walked by the box office where I sit. “I notice you have it draped on the left side,” he said with a kind smile.

I know. I like to indulge in my insecurities every once in a while. I’m fully aware of the actions I take on behalf of this malady I was born with…and I’m absolutely ok with myself in every way.

And now, I’ll be doing my silks act with my hair down. Wee! I feel like I just got a new toy to play with. (I know that sounds weird, but I’ve just been given HOURS worth of new entertainment…not that I have that much time, but ya know…).

Sunday, August 24, 2008: Surrealist Goggles

Training has started at 8 am every morning since Wednesday and has gone until 6 pm (officially…there’s always “open ring” afterward). Granted, we get breaks here and there. I think I’ve only been training for 7 hours a day. It’s been very demanding having such an early call time, though. Tomorrow, I get to lay in until 8 am. Warm-ups are at 9. I’m so exhausted that I feel like I’m living in a Dali painting.

I’ve mostly got the web rope routine down. It’s not a very hard act, but I’ve never spun so much in my life. Andrew and I are getting more comfortable with each other, as he’s my web-setter. The final trick is a “fast spin”…weee! Because he’s so strong, when he gets me spinning, I can feel my cheeks pulling back and pain in my fingertips from all the blood being pushed in that direction. It’s insane.

Hoops is still kicking my ass. You’ve never been confronted with real anger management issues until you’ve tried your hand at manipulation skills. I flung two hoops clear across the circus tent today. I think I’ve cried more over hoops this season than any other skill. To be fair, I fully plan on building myself a set when I get home. I like the art…it’s just frustrating at hell. I comfort myself with this: at least if everything goes to hell in a handbasket during our act, I’ll still boop away with a smile on my face.

Doubles trapeze is coming along. We have our opening dance bit and we made it through our whole act yesterday….well, except for our finish trick. We’re still working on making that happen. Gotta kill off a few more nerves before we can pull it off. But still…even with our act being hella rough, I expected to not have the strength to get all the way through it. So bam…baby steps. I have nice Disa-shaped bruises all up and down my legs. Disa is far worse-off.

*******************************************************************

I received a couple packages in the mail the other day. One from Aaron, one from Jules…both contained MASSIVE amounts of chocolate. Mmmmmm…..

Aaron also sent me the DVD of my bits from “Not Exactly DanceWorks” (the show I did a week before coming here). Shit. I do hope I’ve come a ways in my performing life since being here. Perhaps I am being overly critical, but I can definitely say I am not proud to be putting my name on the work presented in that show. *Sigh*. Try and try again, right? I wish these things came easier to me. I resign myself that I will probably never be a choreographer or performer extraordinaire, though I ease my mind by telling myself this is not what I am chasing after.

*Sigh*….*sigh*….

*SIGH*

Though on this note, I do have a nugget of inspiration. We went out for a “family dinner” the other night. Someone ordered a bottle of wine and on the back was printed:
“Be passionate.
Love.
Dream big.
Be spontaneous.
Celebrate.
Change the world or go home.”

Ok…so the “go home” part is a little weird (like, where are you going to go…Jupiter?), but it spoke to me. “Change the world (or go home…*snicker*).” Ok. So…ready, set, go. World, I’m ready to change you. And go. Ready…be changed. Transform. I will you to morph.

Alright. I’m still stuck…five months after I left the US, one month before I return. Still…stuck. Ideas are welcome at any time.

Beeeeed time.

2008-08-22T12:09:00.000-07:00

Thursday, August 21, 2008: Bedford, Sweet Bedford

It feels like we’re permanently here, although it will only be for two weeks. How strange it is not to have to prepare myself for shows tomorrow. I’m planning an evening of a nice, hot shower and hula-hoop practice. The characterization for the hoop act is so easy…huge Muppet smiles ala the Andrew Sisters. Now I just have to work at convincing the audience I know what I’m doing.

******************************************************************

We pulled into Bedford Tuesday evening. As we sat waiting for our other vehicles to arrive, I noticed I had missed a call from Andy (Cleveland Magazine Associate Editor) and promptly called him back. Now, I’ve never called myself the brightest crayon in the box, but two things happened that I believe authoritatively confirm my IQ is around 30:
1) No matter how hard I try, I am not at all adept at translating my thoughts into spoken word. My mind to mouth process is kind of like a finished jigsaw puzzle that got thrown out a train, stampeded by a herd of wild mongoose, reformed into vinyl and thrown onto a broken record player. I think I said “incredible” about 37 times.
2) I didn’t actually realize Andy was officially interviewing me until about, oh, halfway through our conversation.

Ok…3.

3) I just had to look up “mongoose” to make sure I was making the correct animal reference. Ok, so they’re not herd animals…whatever.

I always hate being interviewed. I mean, I would love it if I could express myself intelligently, though this talent seems to incessantly evade me. I think I am much clearer with written word, albeit being overly verbose.

“What are you talking about, Sora? You’re well brainy,” comforted Jackie, “You’re always using all these big words and stuff.”

Big words? Really? Like superduperfantabulistico?

At any rate, if this article does in fact get approved by the higher powers that be, I will be in the October issue of Cleveland Magazine in all my troglodyte glory.

2008-08-21T05:45:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, August 19, 2008: May the Gods of Circus Shine Upon Us

We got word yesterday that we may not be going on to Stockton-On-Tees because it’s been raining non-stop there. The ground will be a mess. There’s chance of canceling the entire festival…if it rained again last night.

Which means…we may be moving onto Bedford right away. Bedford is going to be a self-promo, not a gala. This is fabulous because it means staying for two weeks and training without shows for an entire week. This also means it gives us a whole seven days more to promote our show. Since Bedford loves us, we’ll probably sell out.

“Everyone, do a rain dance for Stockton-On-Tees….and pray to the gods of circus. Let’s hope we get to Bedford next week!” said Greg during a meeting yesterday.

I sit in my bunkroom at the moment waiting for word on whether we’re to pull down our tent today. There are two factors that need to be settled before we make a move: whether the festival will indeed be canceled and whether the ground at Bedford will let us move on a week early. The nice people here in North Hampton have told us we can stay for a couple extra days if need be. Bless them.

And I’m sending energy out for Bedford like crazy. I think everyone is. We need the training days.

*********************************************************************

Drew and I sat down the other night and decided it was best that we not go through with our adagio act. We only have two weeks left, and we really have nothing to show. His wrists are still injured too…and I don’t want to break him more. We both have a lot on our plate. Carola and I started counting how many acts we’re in, and I had a mini panic attack. Here’s the line-up:

Opening Number (50’s Dance Contest ala Grease)
Vaulting (Jungle)
Solo Silks (Weird Sora Shit and Land ‘O Whiplash)
Doubles Trapeze (Zimbi Sisters + Massive Attack…YEAH!)
Ensemble Hoops (Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy…groooaaan)
Ensemble Web Rope (60’s Themed…neon go-go boots and all)
Dancing for Craig’s Act (Very contemporary…I’m currently costumed in halter top and ass-shorts that cover nothing)
Assisting with Drew’s Act (Hard rockin’ in my Tinker Bell on Acid costume)

*********************************************************************

Greg just told us we will not have an update for another hour. I’m going into the tent to train.

**********************************************************************
We got word that no matter the outcome, we WOULD be moving today. So we jumped into our grimy clothes and started pulling down. The skies darkened quickly and suddenly, a torrential storm was upon us. Our tent seemed as if any minute, it could fly away into the sky. Rain poured down in opaque sheets. Orders were being shouted at us left and right through the howling wind. Waterfalls were coming down off our roof. Ian and Andrew dove into the billowing canvas to keep it on the ground.

And then instantly, it was over.

Only minutes after things had calmed down, Greg got a phone call. He walked away, a grim look on his face. Carola came up to me. “Looks like bad news,” she signed. I agreed.

Damn it. We had all been hoping and praying to go to Bedford early, and now, not only would we not be going, but we would have to build up our tent in a mud hole.

Greg called us in. I looked at him as people gathered, and he gave a sympathetic smile.

“Ok everyone. I just got off the phone with our contact in Stockton-on-Tees,” he said.

My heart was sinking. I hate it when I know bad news before it’s broken to everyone else.

“…and we’re going to Bedford!”

Everyone cheered. Unbelievable. Everything fell into place perfectly…Bedford is letting us come early and the Stockton festival was canceled.

This means that we’ll only have to build-up the tent and do seating once in two weeks time. It also means that we gain what would have been a travel day in training. Seven straight days of training. HOORAY!!

***************************************************************
We’re in Bedford now. It only took about an hour to get here…which is the shortest jump in the history of this season. It’s been pissing down rain, so the ground is soggy, however, it’s beautiful here. There’s a bank of trees with a canal right behind it. The picture windows of my eyes are filled with a weeping willow and it stirs something akin to nostalgia within me. It seems like such a romantic place. It twinges my heart a bit because I do not have a love here with whom I can revel in this natural grandeur. And even as I type this, I can feel my heart encasing itself in armor again. It is an expected response these days.

***************************************************************
I am in constant contact with my best friend again. He’s been over in Iraq and my heart has felt a massive void for years now. Communication between us has been scarce, though I know we keep connection through other, less tangible means. We had almost an IM conversation over e-mail the other night. I fell asleep feeling like I was holding him in my arms. I cannot imagine how my life will be changed once he is physically back in it. There is much to look forward to in these upcoming months.

Which brings me to reflect upon the end drawing near. It almost seems impossible that in another month and a half, my feet will be planted firmly in US soil again and I will not be sleeping, shitting, and cooking in the same 6ft x 8ft box anymore. Weird, man. I’ll even get to shower regularly again. What will I do with myself?

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. I predict that because life moves so incredibly fast here, I’ll have a bit of trouble acclimating to “normal” life again. I assume I’ll go stir crazy. I know I need to find a job relatively soon after I get back home. Oh the list of things “to do”…it’s growing.

********************************************************************

As I descended my ladder yesterday, a random thought coursed through my head. I wonder who actually reads my blog. I’ve already gotten a few surprise e-mails from distant friends saying they’ve been keeping up on my life.

Yesterday evening, I got a voicemail from a random 216 number. “Hello, this message is for Sora Sol. This is Andy Netzel from Cleveland Magazine. I’ve been reading your blog and would like to talk.”

Erm…Hi, Andy! Andy is the Associate Editor of Cleveland Magazine and a lovely person. He did a whole immersion experience interview with me last year when he was doing an article on couchsurfing.com, as I am a firm supporter of the site and its mission.

I love it when paths continue to cross. It makes me smile and giggle a little.

*******************************************************************
I’ve been writing from one of the parked transits over the past hour. Tristan just came in plunked down, and I think is off to dreamland now. I think I’m off to do some reading. Cheers!

2008-08-17T12:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday, August 16, 2008: On and On

Well, the seating trailer didn’t show up until 2:30 this morning. Luckily for us, Ann and Greg told us all to go to bed around midnight. We got up early this morning and just put out blue chairs…not full seating. Thank the gods of circus.

*****************************************************************
Dear Sora,
Please stop giving me whiplash.
Cordially yours,
Your Spine.

I’m standing backstage about to go on. I can feel a pulse in my forehead: residual pain from yesterday’s incident. Should be alright. I step through the curtain and begin my act. First drop to knees. No problem. Climb. Second drop to ankles.

Fuuuuuuucccck.

My head is pounding. My vision is blurry. WHY so early in my act? There’s no way I’m going to be able to finish. Concentrate.

Third drop. Wow…did I really just drop? I don’t remember even wrapping for it.

Legs straight? Check. Smile? Still plastered. Head? Oh fucking god…please just let it fall off.

Fourth drop….wait for it….head is still attached…don’t forget to….ok and DONE! I triumphantly manage to finish my act. I descend the silks and take my call with bullets pummeling through my forehead, eardrums throbbing, neck in a noose. Once backstage, Disa hands me a water bottle and I collapse in a chair…and start hyperventilating. Ann is called backstage and she works with some pressure points. Jo is awesome and offers to assist with Steph’s hoop act by herself. I lie in the cool grass and try to relax, but the colors swirling in front of my eyes make it very difficult to calm down. Steph’s act finishes and the clowns burst through the curtain into the ring. I need to get dressed for Drew’s act. I get into my costume as fast as possible while still feeling blind.

I’m out in the ring again. I’m not even worried about smiling…it’s just cemented to my face and it helps with my breathing. I can still feel the wetness of tears on my cheeks. Ann leans over to Greg at the sound desk. “Wouldn’t know she was puking outside the tent just thirty seconds ago, huh?” she whispers.

And then, in a poof of smoke, the show is finished, I have drugs coursing through my body and I’m passing out…the only way I’ll ever be able to get rid of the pain. Still two more shows to go. At least I get an hour in between to try to kick this.

And I do it all again tomorrow, hopefully with a new method of keeping my head from thrashing about.

That’s show biz, folks.

************************************************************

It’s now 11:30. Drew and I went for a wander tonight around the fair. Our first objective was to get fresh donuts for dessert. We thought we deserved it. (So much for being on a diet.) I also got my palm read. Long life, success, and a passionate heart are mine. Hey…long life? Right on. I can stop worrying about dying young. Whew.

The night came to a close with a fireworks display….and Sabrina with a wine glass in one hand, a bubble gun in the other, and a wrestling mask encompassing her head. A lovely evening it was.

Friday, August 15, 2008: It’s Gonna Be a Late One

It’s now 10:15 pm. When we made the jump to North Hampton, our seating trailer blew up on the M6 motorway…which means that we haven’t had our bleachers for any of today’s shows. The ERF has been replaced, but our new driver, Costi, was supposed to drive to the North Hampton services to meet Greg and Ian. He drove to the wrong one. So now, we probably won’t get to begin putting seating into our tent until midnight (we’re hoping for earlier). Our shows don’t start until 11:30 am tomorrow, but that still seems early compared to how late we’re going to be up.

*******************************************************************

There’s a strange push and pull going on in my life and art recently. I feel like I keep trying to improve my silks act, make it more dynamic. However, the minute it feels like it’s reaching a new level, something comes up, holding me back. Stupid obstacles. Damnit…I want easy!!

I’ve put two new drops into my act. One is the drop to ankle hang and the other is called a “bomb drop”. It’s called this because you climb to the ceiling upside down and then drop head-first straight towards the ground. It’s supposed to lock right before your head hits the floor. Now, I say “supposed to” because last October, I miscalculated distance and left a nice head-shaped divot in the dance floor of Skully’s Nightclub. Maybe it’s the ghost of this experience coming to haunt me, but I definitely got whiplash today while executing this drop. Oooowwww. (Don’t worry…my head was nowhere near the ground.) The beautiful thing, however, is if I pop an Ibuprofen and pass out for an hour, the pain magically disappears. I know I’ve been breaking my “no drugs” rule a lot while I’ve been here, but desperate times call for desperate measures, man.

*********************************************************************

It’s 11:00. Still no trailer. Still no sleep in sight. I’m gonna take a quick napsie while I wait.

Thursday, August 14, 2008: She Came, She Saw, She Conquered

The day’s only half over, but I feel like I’ve overcome so much fear.

Silks rehearsal was my first lesson of the day. There’s been a trick I’ve been wanting to try for the longest time, but have been too scared to do it. I’m scared, partly because I was taught the correct wrap two years ago and then went a whole year without practicing it…so I’m not really sure anymore if the wrap I’m doing is correct. The trick is done by dropping straight-bodied into a double-ankle-hang. I’ve been doing the hang for about a year…but I’ve always just lowered myself into it (instead of just letting go and falling backwards...imagine a bungee jumper).

I now have bruises on my legs and a hoarse voice. Steph spotted me, lowering me down the first couple of times. Then I went for it. I screamed the first time…and the second. I thought surely I would die. I now no longer scream, but it’s still damn painful.

Directly after this lesson, I had web-rope. I did a “fast spin” for the first time today. A “fast spin” is where I’m hanging by one arm from the hand loop at the top, and Andrew, acting as my web-setting partner, spins me with such velocity that my body becomes completely parallel to the ground. It’s a rush. I’ve been putting off learning how to do it until now mainly because I had visions of my arm ripping out of my socket. Drew got me going so fast that my cheeks pulled back from the g-force….but I still have both arms in tact. =)

Am I prideful?

Maybe a smidge.

***************************************************************

I just finished the day with doubles trapeze. It just doesn’t seem logical that someone should be able to pitch their body at another person…and catch leg to leg. It doesn’t make sense…but that’s what we’re doing. ”. It’s taken me quite a while to come to grips with myself that I’m not going to go plummeting to my death during our act. There are tricks called “release moves”. For one in particular, I hang under the bar while Disa sits on it with her feet apart. I swing my legs back and then pitch my legs over my head, flipping upside down and letting go of the bar. Magically, my legs always end up locked with Disa’s. And by “magically”, I mean…Disa’s a fucking strong broad with mad skill. We use something called “Firm Grip” (a sticky gel…kinda like tree sap…it’s intended for baseball players) on our feet, ankles, wrists, and hands so that we don’t slip away from each other…it’s literally a lifesaver. It provides for a few good chuckles, too…within five minutes, we look like hobbits because our feet are furry with the other person’s leotard lint. Ewww….

Wednesday, August 13, 2008: One Month

Today is August 13. Our showcase is on September 14. Oh good god.

Disa and I have finally settled on music and a finishing trick for our act. We’re really super excited. Tomorrow, hopefully, we’ll be able to start toughening up for our finale. It’s going to be so painful…and absolutely brilliant. Not letting our secrets out yet. Soon, soon. =)

I just got my mid-season evaluation. Here’s what my daily workout should be for the rest of the season:

1 hour silks
1 hour double trapeze
30 minutes web-rope
1 hour hula hoops
30 minutes juggling (ha)
30 minutes tumbling
5 elbow bridges with straight legs
2 minutes in over-splits (right, left, center)
Climb rope freehand to top 3X

Just a short entry tonight. I need to get to bed…it’s already 11:30. I’m bright and hopeful for the rest of the week. We’re at the Northampton Balloon Festival. I think on Friday we’ll get to see 70 hot air balloons take off at the same time from the best seats in the house…the top of our tent. =D

Monday, August 11, 2008: Just Another Day

We’re sitting and waiting to be rescued at a service station. Our journey has been rough today. We finally got out of Scotland at half past noon today after mud-wrestling with our vehicles for the better part of the morning in the pouring rain. Just another typical jump day.

I was put in Hobbes (the generator truck) with Greg and Craig. We stopped at the side of the road to help couple up the bunk rooms to the truck. One hour later, we were on our way. It should have only taken 15 minutes, but we have a new driver who isn’t very skilled at backing up. (On a sad note our old driver was sent back to Zippos. We were all sad to see “Grandpa John” go. He was so sweet.)

Two hours later, we received a call that Jackie was on the side of the road. Apparently, her accelerator broke. Big problem. “We need to send someone to get her off the side of the road before the police come,” ordered Greg, with urgency. “Let’s start making calls.”

Almost immediately after, we got another call saying Zorig had been pulled over by the police for a “random check” (random, my ass). The tent truck was being impounded and Zorig and Jo needed rescuing.

So here we sit at a service station. Our rescue mission is half-over, but now, it’s 6:30 pm and we’re not even close to North Hampton. We’re waiting for Ann to come with Betty so that we can tow both caravans. We’ll be staying the night at another service station about an hour north of here (where everyone else has already grouped). *Sigh* I wish this wasn’t so typical.

*******************************************************************

Conversations about what’s going to happen post-course have already begun. I am a bit stressed out at this, surprisingly. There is a possibility floating around of working in a group with a couple other people, though with this option, I see myself being extremely lonely for an entire touring season (on average, about eight months). Will it be worth it? What if we end up in a country where English is not the main language? Do I rely on serendipity to make an appearance in my life again?

2008-08-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday, August 9, 2008: Do Nothing

In the past week, I’ve reconnected with my friend, Adam, over in the States. It has felt so good to hear his voice. It’s a piece of home I’ve been missing.

We had a pretty wild show today. This morning, a torrential rainstorm decided to sweep Dalbeattie. Our ring was soaked and the backstage area turned into a giant swamp. It looked like the earthworm Holocaust…dead tube-like bodies floating by the hundreds in the muddy puddles. Pretty horrific. Everyone was wearing wellies (rain boots) up until the very last second before walking through the curtain. Well, I suppose everyone except for me. Ann and Greg thought it would be funny to allow me to enter for my aerial act with my wellies still on. So I stepped through the curtain, struck a pose, and then…oops!...realized I still had them on and hurriedly stepped out of them and tossed them aside. Not being a clown, it feels good when I can elicit laughter (purposely) from the audience.

What a weekend it’s been. I think I’ve been bagpiped out…though it’s kinda cool to say I got to hear live bagpipes in Scotland. Every night our tent has been used for different events: fashion shows, pet shows, a really horrible Rod Stewart impersonator. I’m not quite sure what’s going on tonight, but I think some people on the lot are going to get dressed up and see what’s up.

****************************************************************

Drew had his first no-drop show yesterday! I was so proud of him. He ran backstage and started hugging everyone after it was over. So cute. As Ian puts it, he never knows if Drew is going to come backstage and punch something or celebrate, so he usually lies low until he can decipher emotions. =)

****************************************************************

British Lessons:

Courghette = Zucchini

Aubourgene = Eggplant

Pram = Baby Stroller

Dummy = Pacifier

Biscuit = Cookie (with the exception of big soft cookies and crunchy ones with chocolate chips….those are just called “cookies”)

Pudding = Dessert (…kinda….pudding can be “savory” [see definition below], but the most common use for this word is for “dessert”)

Savory = Salty

Darkie = Pejorative word for someone of African descent (though it’s strange…most white Brits don’t see this as offensive…racism is on a completely new level over here)

Bollucks = Testes

Sorted = It’s been taken care of

Sod It = Fuck It

Cue = Line (as in, “people stood in a cue”)

Fanny = Pussy (if you use the word “fanny” over here, you’ll probably be thunked over the head with an old granny’s cane)

Roasted Monkey Nuts = Peanuts (see pictures from previous entry)

Tele = TV

Bin = Trash Can

Skip = Dumpster

Rubbish = Trash

Toastie = Toasted sandwich

Pants = Underwear

Trousers = Pants

Waistcoat = Vest

Wellies = Rain Boots

Mac/Macintosh = Raincoat

Jumper = Sweatshirt

Brolly = Umbrella

Lecky = Electricity

Mozzy = Mosquito

Trolly = Cart

Washing-Up Liquid = Dishsoap

Launderette = Laundry Mat

Post = Mail

Footie = Soccer (British religion)

I can’t be asked = I can’t go through the trouble to do something

Lorrie = Semi Truck

Motorway/Dual Carriageway = Highway

Petrol = Automobile Gas

Gas = Propane

Haberdashery = Sewing odds and ends

Chemist = Pharmacy

News Agent = Small Convenience Store

Solicitor = Lawyer

VOSA = Nazis (ok…well, motorway Nazis…think of it as Big Brother in high vis)

Go back on yourself = Make a U-turn

Half-one = Half past one o’clock

Mushy Peas = Mushy Peas

Bangors and Mash = Sausages and Mashed Potatoes

Tatties and Neeps = Potatoes and Turnips

Bubble and Squeak = Leftovers from the night before all mixed together and either fried or baked (being that I haven’t tried this yet, I’m not too sure I understand this Englishism yet)

Spotted Dick = Some form of popular dessert

Cream Tea = Scone with almost-butter (“cream”) with jam and…tea with milk

Climbing Structure = Jungle Gym

Swimming Costume = Swimming Suit

Trainers = Sneakers

WC = Bathroom

Loo/Bog Roll = Toilet Paper

Nan = Grandma

Interval = Intermission

Chips = French Fries (main food staple of England)

Crisps = Chips

Friday, August 08, 2008: This Life

I went out to a proper cream tea with Sabrina this morning. “Cream tea” means you are served tea with milk plus a scone with cream and strawberries. The cream is like butter, but no salt and a little less stiff. We sat and talked about what lay ahead in our futures. As you may remember, Sab is the one who had a tightwire fall on her foot. She’s still on crutches a month and a half later.

“This life is so hard sometimes,” she said, “I would be in physical therapy right now, but I can’t because we’re always moving. If I could just stay in one place, NHS (National Healthcare System) would put me in with a therapist, but because I travel, they won’t do anything.”

I have to agree. Touring is rough…especially if you’re from another country. Managing my life from overseas is crazy. I feel guilt almost every day for putting Brian through everything he’s had to do for me…sending in bill payments, dealing with my car getting broken into, fixing my car window. I’m weighing very heavily if it’s worth it. I wonder, though, if it would be any less stressful touring in America. I think part of my stress manifests from being away from everything I know.

I also understand now part of the reason why people push so hard for marriage (or at least, long-term relationships). Life seems so much easier as a team. There’s…stability. And I laugh at myself as I write this because I know damn well that there is “family” in my life whom I can depend on for anything.

Ring’s open! Jumping at the chance to condition.

******************************************************

I sit on my bed, piles of make-up containers spread in front of me. I twist to the side so the sunlight from our window catches my face as I apply color. It’s our only source of light at the moment.

“I’m not doing anything in the show today,” I say offhandedly.

“What do you consider nothing?” Disa asks, applying glitter.

“Opening number, vaulting, dancing for Craig’s act and fluffing for Drew.”

“I love how we consider that to be nothing.”

I’m slightly bummed as my act isn’t in the show today. I understand the reasoning, though…Craig’s rope act got chucked in the ring for the first time yesterday. When it comes down to it, though, I’m happy for the respite. It kinda feels kinda good having a no-pressure show.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008: Rain, Rain Go Away

I melted my toothbrush this morning. And that’s not the worst of it. I melted it knowing it was going to melt before it happened. I woke up and put in my contacts. After brushing my teeth, I put it back down on the counter, while simultaneously filling a pot of water for tea. I looked at where I had placed it. Better move that or else it’s going to get caught in the gas flame. But then I got distracted by the delicious carton of smoothie sitting on our counter.

So I finished filling the pot of water. And lit the gas stove. And melted my toothbrush. God that’s annoying. It’s a vicious circle…no caffeine, do stupid things….but I needed the pot of boiling water to provide my artificial intelligence. Arg. I can’t win.

***********************************************************

It turns out that I’m probably not going to be going to the other show this weekend….and I’m absolutely ok with it. Martin (owner of this school and Zippos Circus) didn’t really do his homework, and found out the other show already has a silks artist. So, that cuts me out…but it’s ok because I’m feeling a backslide into some pain down my left leg again. During my doubles trapeze lesson with Disa today, my back did a mini-seize and I declared myself done. Well, after trying a neck spin…then I was done.

I’m frantically trying to find an osteopath to check me out.

************************************************************

Scotland is mystically beautiful. It’s everything found in the fairytales: mist over rolling green hills, little cottages with perfect gardens, haggis….canned haggis, at that. I mean…for real?! That’s just gross. It’s like trying to can sushi. Eeewww.

I get sidetracked so easily. Everything here has a feeling of mystery about it. Gosh, I think I was even visited by a spirit last night. A bag of granola went flying off my shelves right before I went to bed. Ah well. At least they didn’t bother my sleep. It would have been war then.

**********************************************************************

Disa and I have been plugging away at doubles trapeze. It’s fabulous in lessons. I’ve seen other people trying to make multiple-person acts, and it doesn’t seem nearly as nice as ours. Thankfully, Dis and I aren’t in the habit of blaming each other when things go wrong which ultimately makes our experience exponentially better. We’ve even found a way of hoisting me up onto the bar (since Dis is a good two or three inches taller than me). We call it “The Elevator”: she gets herself up to sitting on the bar first. Then, I stand below her, tug on her leg twice, shout “Ding ding!”…and she hauls me up. I suppose the tug and dinging are superfluous, but you have to make the elevator work somehow! A typical doubles lesson goes something like this:

Ann: Sora, I want you to do a birdie on the ropes while Disa gets into position on the bar. Reach as high as possible before going into it.

Me: Ok. Bye, Dis!

Dis: Bye bye! I’ll miss you! I’ll write you every day!

Me: I’ll send postcards! Miss you already!

Dis: Take lots of pictures!

Ann (shaking her head): You two are total wakadoodles.

I feel bad because I am not nearly as advanced as she is on the trap, but I’m trying my hardest. If my body would just pull it together, it would be wonderful. One day at a time. I DID, however, learn how to do a neck spin today. Right now, both Disa and I are learning, but in our act, only one of us will do it…probably hanging off the neck of the other person. Since I’ve been hanging from my neck in my silks act for the past half a year, I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

I was so wrong. The loop on the neck swivel is actually made of a thin piece of canvas. Compare: big squishy silks…thin stiff canvas. It fits right over your occipital lobe at the base of your skull (which, I was informed, is also a trigger point for your sinuses. When you come out of a neck spin, you usually spend the next ten minutes blowing your nose.) It then wraps around your cheekbones and the point rests right over your nose. You use a leather “keeper” (ring) to keep the loop in place.

And wow…even though it hurts a lot, it’s so much fun!! It’s kind of a crazy feeling knowing I’m being held up with only my neck and spinning at high speeds. YEAH!

*********************************************************************

I can feel some pretty big changes going on within my heart. I’ve been having a yearning for more worldly knowledge lately. My ability to retain information is quite limited, though. I’m not sure why. So I’ve been working on making my mind more like sponge and less like Renee from high school who insisted on plugging her ears so that everything she knew wouldn’t leak out.

I’m also seeking some sort of stability. Things that feel unstable at the moment: body, career, future living, my heartbeat in a couple of relationships. I am fully cognizant, however, that there IS much stability in my life: my mom and sister, my non-blood family, my fierce desire to do something good for this world.

****************************************************************

In a sweep of my mind's eye, two hands hover close but never touch. Intense heat harvests my attention. The meshing and exchange of a logician's impossibility manifests.

~August 22, 2006

The rain pounds down outside of my door. For brief intermittent moments, I am swept back to a warm August evening in 2006 when, for the first time in my life, I began to fall in love. Warm rain always takes me back to that night, to that playground, to that part of my innocent soul where my eyes began to open wide to an entirely new plain of consciousness…to a reinvention of self. Everything began to make sense. As my head rested on his chest, I could hear his heartbeat murmuring secrets in my ear. Our palms drew near to each other. I closed my eyes. “Do you feel that?” he whispered. I did…intensely. And I knew: this connection of souls would not ever be broken.

My dear friend, our paths will find each other’s when the time is right again. Until then, my love is always with you and I am comforted that I do not spend a day without yours.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008: Winds of Change

I’ve realized there have been a few stark differences between Me Now and Me Pre-Circus School. Here are a few:

1) I’m obsessive about keeping the kitchen area clean. It drives me crazy when there’s no room. (*Hold for gasps and applause*) However, this is only about 70% of the time. The other 30%, I either don’t have time to clean or am adamant it’s not my turn this time.

2) I wake up without hitting my alarm 50 times. I’ve got it down to three hits.

3) I write unremittingly. Not quite sure where this habit came from.

4) I hold the phone up to my ear an average of five times a week…and that’s shooting high.

5) I walk around with pre-show music in my head. “Pre-show music” is a playlist of the most ridiculously cheesy circus songs ever created. And it drives me looney.

6) I no longer notice that our tap has one temperature setting: freezing cold.

7) I read nutritional labels in search of fat content.

8) I have a cup of tea every morning.

9) My vocabulary has expanded to include “rubbish”, “bloke”, and “fucking hell”.

10) I know the fine line between a “gypsy” and a “pikie”…and realize that to the outside British world, I fit despicably into both categories.

11) I am trained to think that at any given time, I may not have water, electricity, or my home. I keep myself prepared accordingly.

12) Washing clothes in a bucket outside is a part of life.

13) I’ve gone on hiatus from caring what other people think. So what if I’m wearing wellies, jeans, a velour track jacket and beaded scarf around my head?

I have a bit of exciting news. On Thursday, I will be sent to another show for a week. It’s a circus at a theme park in Scotland. Since we’re in Scotland this week, I won’t be far away from my family. One of their aerialists (or probably, their only aerialist) is out for some reason and they need some one to fill in. I’ll be going with my silks act.

But don’t get too excited. There are three aerialists this year who are already performing: Disa, Jackie, and me. Since Disa got a similar opportunity in 2006, she was not an option. Jackie was the next pick because she’s a second-year student and she has a trapeze act ready. She adamantly said no, as she feels she would be missing too much training time. Thus, I was asked last in line. I’m not bothered at all, though…because I’m going! =) I was concerned, as well, about missing training time…though Ann assures me I will only be missing one day of practice in the week I’m gone. I think I can deal with that. I’m a bit torn…missing a week with everyone…but at the same time, it’s a new adventure. Too fun!

Saturday, August 02, 2008: Moo

It’s very hard to look down after a month of not exercising and feeling like I’m in the fifth month of pregnancy. I feel like any day now, some stranger is going to come up to me, pat my stomach and ask when they’re due. That’s right…twins. I should be enrolling in lamas classes. All that breathing would probably calm me down…and hey, no one would suspect a thing.

My most recent frustration came yesterday when, not only did I realize my body is drastically different than it was, but I couldn’t get through my new silks act because my muscles have melted away. My finishing trick became a one-ankle hang with contortion-y moves…boring as shit. I couldn’t do my final drop because my arms became comatose. I came down, took my call, and exited with a forced smile. The minute the curtain closed…well, let’s just say Warwick now has a new river. Where has my strength gone?!

Today was better. I cut an entire section of my act. I’ll hopefully be adding it back in soon, but for now, it’s better. I realize I need to build my muscles back up. I need to condition hard, lose my stomach, and gain my stamina back. What an uphill battle.

I’m putting myself on a diet (a healthy one...not going overboard). I’m not sure what the average person eats…I don’t pay that much attention. I’m deciding that one “fun sized” chocolate bar (the little mini ones) is enough for one day. I’ve been eating two or three a day. I also need to cut out my favorite “between lessons” snack: whole wheat bread with butter and honey. I usually only eat it once every couple of days, but I still think it’s too much. That’s going to be a tough one. It’s back to fruits and veggies for me. Hopefully I’ll be able to burn this tummy off soon!

We finished our week long workshop with the kids…erm…children yesterday. It was amazing! They finished the week with a proper circus showcase. My kids got up and did fabulously on the silks. Admittedly, I had a favorite. His name is Kieran….CUTEST kid I’ve come across in a long time. He reminded me a lot of how I was at his age…really eager to learn, but very very shy and stand-offish. If I had a younger brother, I would want him to be like Kieran. I wish we were staying longer.

Need sleep. Badly.

Thursday, July 31, 2008: Children, Not Kids

It’s so funny here. Apparently, it’s considered pejorative to call children “kids”. We had some parents get in a tizzy about it. Interesting.

Englishism #7420: There’s an aisle in Tesco (the British equivalent to a Fry’s or Giant Eagle) devoted to “Pot Snacks”.

…i.e. Cup ‘O Noodles or Ramen.

*******************************************************

Body update: Still can’t feel the last two toes on my left foot. Leg is still numb up the side. I can’t “releve” on my left side…meaning I can’t push up onto my toes. It’s weird…I seem to have lost all muscle function there. It’ll come back with time…it’s just a weird feeling right now. I’m still walking with a limp, but it’s better than three days ago. Less Quasimodo, more Kevin Spacey’s character from “The Usual Suspects”.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008: Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs

I realize there’s a ton of fairytale references in this blog. I can’t help it. They are near and dear to my heart.

Disa is sitting in front of me reading “Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. In the back of the book (which, in reality, comprises about half of the book itself), are the original Grimm fairytales that he references for his story.

She looks up.

“The dwarfs must have been so tired! In the original fairytale, she’s first suffocated by her evil stepmother with a bodice, then brought back to life. Then she’s killed again with a poisonous comb, then back to life. THEN she eats the apple.”

“I know! Poor things,” I said, “They must have been like ‘Oh my good god. She’s dead again!’ That’s ten years of therapy right there. She’s kinda like the mother of all zombies.”

“No, that would be Jesus,” Dis says resolutely, and then thinks again, “Well, I guess father of all zombies.”

“Well, no, because Snow White died three times. Jesus only died once. But then again, he did stay dead for three days.”

“I guess maybe it evens out.”

“Yeah, maybe they were right for each other. Like, maybe Snow White found Prince Charming to not be all that. But then again, Jesus liked that Mary chick, so I don’t know.”

“True. Oh! And THEN after she eats the apple, the prince comes to the dwarfs begging for the coffin, offering gold. The dwarfs say, ‘Not for all the money in the world.” The prince begins to cry and asks again. And they just give it to him. It’s like, ‘I’ll give you money for that there coffin.’

‘No!’

‘Ok, well then can I just have it?’

“Um, well, ok.’”

Fairytales make no sense. And yes, I know I’m going to hell. Meet you there. =) (A note of care for my Christian friends reading this blog: I mean you or your beliefs no disrespect. Think of this little exchange like you might a conversation joking about “making it” as an artist or running away with the circus.)

2008-07-31T03:49:00.000-07:00

Laundry Day!!

Syphalis, what?

Exotic English Foods

2008-07-29T13:53:00.000-07:00

Monday, July 28, 2008: Victory

Saturday night, continued: I’m all happy and cozy on the inside. I’m still bedridden and my left leg is throbbing from the shooting pain extending down from my back through my foot, but my heart is comforted. I love hearing Aaron’s voice on the other side of the phone. I sigh and tell him it’s time for me to mosey onto bed. “Tomorrow,” I say confidently, “I will not feel any pain.”

“Ok babe. You have a good day tomorrow,” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

“No, no,” I giggle back, “You watch…tomorrow, I’m going to wake up and I will feel no pain. It’ll be gone, I know it will be.”

It’s now 10:30pm. Time to get started on Project No Pain. First, I reach over to the hanging basket beside my bed and, against my “no drugs” rule, quickly pop a codeine pill. At least it’ll help me sleep. Starting tomorrow, though, I won’t need to rely on a substance to control my pain…because the pain will be gone. Like, poof.

I slowly raise myself out of bed, making sure not to hit any trigger points…or what I think are trigger points. Right foot down. Good. Left foot down…oh…oh…oh god that’s painful. Damn it! I was so close to ending the day without my body spasming again. I wash up, take out my contacts, and try to ease myself back under my big purple comforter. I look like a very stoned Pinocchio.

I lie on my back, palms up. That codeine is good stuff. (On a side note, you can get it over-the-counter here in the UK. To us Americans, it’s kinda a crazy concept. Ann had a stash, so gave me a row. I’ve been saving it for just such emergencies.) My body feels heavy. Now…what shall I concentrate on?

I have control over my body. I don’t need to feel this pain.

I visualize my nervous system. I visualize my back muscles clenching around my spine. I try to visualize everything releasing. Relax, I tell myself. I drift off into the land of infinite possibility.

Sunday, 6:30 am: I wake up and do a quick body-scan. There seems to be no pain. I roll over onto my side. Eeep, a bit too much pressure there. Back to my back. In my groggy morning mind, I start a mantra. *Deep breath in* I have control over my body, *deep breath out* my body does not have control over me. *Deep breath in* I have control over my body, *Deep breath out* my body does not have control over me. At 6:30 in the morning, it makes sense, man. I drift back to sleep.

In retrospect, I find it somewhat ironic that this is the mantra I chose the morning after I popped a pill into the driver’s seat. I’m also now struggling with the fact that I separated my being into two very autonomous entities…something obtusely contrary to my usual spiritual views. Hmmmm…

7:00 am: My alarm goes off. Today, I need to pack my bags as quickly as possible so that Ann, Steph, and I can get on the road. We’re leaving a day ahead of everyone else, as our next destination is Playbox Theatre in Warwick. We’re doing a week-long circus camp for kids between the ages of 10 and 18. The three of us are going in as an “advanced team” to get the things started. Everyone else is staying behind to do the shows and pull down the tent.

My eyes are wide open, but I stall at moving. What if I’m going to be in pain forever? No, that’s impossible, because clearly, I have control over my body. My body does not have control over me.

I sit up and swing my legs to the side of the bed. Little bit of pressure, not bad. I have control over my body…my body does not have control over me.

I walk three steps to the sink. Deep breaths. I have control over my body, my body does not have control over me.

God I’m a klutz. I sumo squat down to get the tube of toothpaste I just dropped. A squeak escapes my throat. Ihavecontrolovermybodymybodydoesnothavecontroloverme. Ihavecontrolovermybodymybodydoesnothavecontroloverme.

And…stand back up. IHAVEFUCKINGCONTROLOVERMYFUCKINGBODYMYFUCKINGBODYDOESNOTHAVEFUCKINGCONTROLOVERME!!!! IHAVEFUCKINGCONTROLOVERMYFUCKINGBODYMYFUCKINGBODYDOESNOTHAVECONTROLOVERME!!!!

There’s no way I’m telling Aaron about this.

Ok. Maybe I need a new mantra.

*Deep breath in* I have control over the pain. *Deep breath out* The pain does not have control over me.

I mean, logically, this is more sound, right?

10:00 am: There’s a problem with the tail lights on Steph’s caravan. I go over to try to help. I squat down next to Ann without thinking about it much.

Shit.

Deep, centered, teeth-clenched breath in. I have control over my body, my body…no wait. I have control over the pain, the pain doesn’t…

Fuck this. I’m going to go sulk in the truck.

5:00 pm: Sitting in the middle seat and watching the road, my new mantra continues, but I currently am not really in a whole lot of pain because my ass has fallen asleep from being on the road so long.

8:00 pm: We pull into the Playbox Theatre parking lot. It’s been a long journey. We finally hit the road at 11:30 this morning…almost two hours behind schedule. We all jump out to unhitch Steph’s caravan. “Careful, Sora,” Ann warns as we three try to push the caravan into a practical parking spot.

“I’m fine,” I say offhandedly. It’s my automatic response.

And suddenly, I stop. There’s something funny going on. I back away from the caravan.

In the next second, my hands are on the asphalt….but my feet are still planted solidly on the ground…and my knees are straight. Am I….???

“ANN!!! LOOOOOKK!!” I yell out. Ann peeks around the truck. Steph turns on her heel. They both look at me as I bend over and touch my toes.

And like magic, there is absolutely no pain in my back or my left leg.

It’s Monday now, and I still have no pain, and no explanation. A logical person will say it was the chiropractic work I had done. A metaphysical person would clap me on my back and congratulate me for using the powers of my mind to heal myself. I’m going to go with some smorgasbord of the two.

Here’s the trade-off (why, oh why does there always have to be a trade-off?!)…I still can’t feel most of my left leg, including my left foot. I’m kinda walking like Igor. I know my left leg and foot are still fully attached, but I can’t feel them, so it’s making a steady gate a bit of a challenge. My new, new mantra is WALK NORMAL!! It’s ok…I’ll trade this for the pain any day.

My battery’s running low. More on this fabulous circus camp tomorrow.

2008-07-26T12:11:00.000-07:00

Saturday, July 26, 2008: Round Number Two

I stepped into the tent. Tristan looked at me and called me angelic. He’s of gypsy blood and spirit…and for the night, I was very gypsy. The moment everyone entered the tent, the festivities began. Food, drink….musical chairs, sardines, and donut bobbing. Oh god…to feel as if we were five again. The party games were mostly Sab’s ideas. She’s turning 30 in a few days.

************************************************************

I lie here flat on my back in my bed, my computer set securely on my hips. It took me a good 30 minutes to get to this level of comfort. My back feels great. However, now, all the pain is centralized in my left gluteus. It starts at the top of my ass and travels down to the mid-back of my thigh…kinda feels like a cramp that is simultaneously lit on fire and numb. Interesting feeling. (For those of you who know anything of nerves, I was told not to worry…from being cracked back into place yesterday, slight nerve irritation is a side effect.) Just moments ago, as I lay here, I stuck out my hand in the direction of my idle computer on the floor. Surely it would float out from under Disa’s computer, off the blue Astroturf and into my hand. No such luck. My Jedi powers are clearly lacking. So, the next best thing was to utilize a clown as he passed by my open room door. Thank you, Barticus.

*************************************************************

British buses are set up in a way that you pay the driver when you get on. Carola was the first to get on and offered her £2.30. The driver simply stared back at her. “Erm, um…we’re going to Seaham,” I said. He blinked.

“Seaham is a large town, madam. What part are you going to?”
Shit.

“Town center?” I offered help(less)fully.

So he printed out our tickets and I tried to hand him our money. He gave me the same blank stare (and did I detect condescending undertones?).

“Put it in the tray please,” he said.

People are so weird. But I smiled to myself. Perhaps he’s a biblical literalist who is forbidden any physical contact with menstruating women. To keep it safe, he probably doesn’t have ANY contact with women. I wonder if he tries to send his female colleagues to a red tent every month.

Or maybe he’s just a germaphobe.

Today, we had the same bus driver as we came back from round number two of chiropractor magic.. I resisted the urge to slap him five when he indicated to the tray.

*****************************************************************

We left the office in high spirits today. Bron, the receptionist (well, she's was playing the part of receptionist today...she actually co-owns the practice with her partner) gave us all hugs as we left. And invited us to her wedding in October.

I love love love people. We’re now friends on Facebook.

*****************************************************************
Because I’m lying here with nothing else to do, I offer this next segment.

I realized I haven’t really given a profile of everyone here. I’ve mentioned people in this blog, but I haven’t really introduced. Originally, my intention was to get to know everyone a bit better before I wrote about them….and then I just flat out forgot.

Here we go:

Students

Tam-Tam: Our soon-to-be 23-year-old Scottish neighbor. At first glance, one might take him to be a hardened man, a formidable scar extending from his eye to cheekbone, shoulder covered in tattoos. No no…he’s the biggest fluffy bunny space cadet I’ve ever met in my life….and I adore him. So cute…can be very effeminate. I’m so proud of him, too. He possesses a great amount of talent and he’s been making the most improvement of anyone I’ve seen here. He’s generous, kind…and absolutely crazy. He’s studying meteors and comedy.

Bart: The other Scotsman. He’s the Inspector Gadget of our lot. I think I’ve mentioned this before. This guy can fix anything…an aptitude of which he is quite proud. Bart also overflows with generosity and a compassionate heart. He has a caring spirit and I can always count on him for moral support. He also enjoys feeding people…something that I do not turn down often. =) He’s an over-the-top clown who’s also dabbling in meteors.

Jackie: Jackie (one of our resident Brits) is one of the most fabulous people ever. She’s stands about 5 ft tall…and is an absolute fireball (she can also burp louder and with more vibrato than any man I’ve ever met…quite an accomplishment, in my book). She’s tenacious and motivated, and she’s a natural leader, which sometimes translates to others as being bossy. I’ve never viewed her as such. I think she can keep people on task better than most people I know. Plus, she’s a second year student and knows her stuff. She love gossip in a non-malicious way but also has a heart of gold. She’s always the first to bring me chocolate on my cloudy days. She’s studying cradle, swinging trapeze, adagio…and has the same ill luck as I when it comes to being thrown into the hula-hoops act.

Andrew: EXTREME CANADIAN!! Haha…actually, as our friendship has grown, I’ve come to see Drew as someone very much like myself…a geek at heart. I always tease him about having ridiculous amounts of rage…I do believe at some point he will have to come up with some good plan of anger management. For the time being, I simply chortle at him when his temper gets the better of him. He’s absolutely endearing to me…always ready with a hug and sweet words. He’s one of my closest friends here. He is also outrageously random, which keeps me laughing. He’s primarily studying juggling, though he’s also perfecting his unicycling technique and building a partner act with me.

Jo: Jo hails from Australia. She is quite beautiful in a non-conventional way: she has her septum pierced, bleach blonde hair, pale skin and a slight frame. I love her clothing style. It’s reminiscent of vintage meets Andy Warhol. She’s sweet and quiet…but she definitely has lungs when it comes to her contortion lessons! She can be heard screaming far outside of the circus lot. We affectionately call her lesson times “Birthing of a Transit Bus”. She studied naturopathic medicine for three years before coming here, and it’s always interesting to have conversations with her about it. On top of studying contortion, she’s also concentrating on hoops.

Carola:…another one of my best friends on this course. She’s a Norwegian television star who’s mischievous as a sprite. She loves practical jokes, and rightfully, she’s studying clowning. She’s also quite gifted as a contortionist, though with her neck and shoulder being out, she may have to take a break. I think if I ever go back and immerse myself in the American Deaf community, no one will know what I’m saying. Since Carola knows so many languages, I’m afraid my sign vocabulary has become a modpodge of German, Polish, Dutch, British, and Swedish. I can’t begin to describe the depth of beauty Carola posses…her heart overflows with love and compassion.

Tristan: Another resident Brit…Tristan looks like he stepped out of the famous Margritte painting…the one with the man in a bowler hat with an apple as a head. While Tristan’s head does not resemble fruit, his fashion sense seems akin to the painting’s. On most days, he looks as if he’s just stepped off of a gypsy caravan: button down shirt, vest, brown coat, colorful pants, complete with bowler hat. He’s a lover…lover of art and humanity…and women. He has a dream-like quality to his demeanor. He’s often living up in his head, writing or drawing in his notebook. “Aw man…it was magical,” can be heard departing his lips on a semi-regular basis. He almost reminds me of Ewan McGregor’s character on Moulin Rouge. Tristan is studying juggling, clowning, and rolas…and is pretty damn talented at all.

Craig: ANOTHER Brit. Craig is hilarious. He can play the part of a queen with the best of them. He’s the youngest of the students this year…just turned 19. His name sign is “baby”. He’s affectionate always, my sweet teddy bear. While he has a reputation for whining, he works very hard. He came into this course with no aerial skills…and is now so close to having his own corde lisse act. He’s also picking up tightwire quite quickly. I hold him very close to my heart…he’s like a little brother.

Tomasso: “Princess,” we call him. Tomasso is originally from Sicily. He’s TINY…with long curly dark hair, pronounced Sicilian nose, and a quiet almost-whisper voice. Most of us feel like if a strong gust of wind comes up, he’ll just fly away…and not even fight it. In fact, he would probably just wave goodbye in his delicate, good-natured way. I’ve spent nights talking to him, sharing stories and chocolate. His heart is much larger than his body. He’s studying contortion and tightwire walking.

Ian: Oh Ian. The last of the British students. He’s also a young one…is turning 19 in two days. While he’s incredibly mature in many aspects, I find in others, he lives up to his 19-year-old-ness…which is not necessarily a negative thing. He’s hilarious…a most effeminate straight man. The Americans have given him the “metrosexual” label. He’s a Cinderella story. Apparently, when he came in 2007, he was a right rollie-pollie. Now, he has the aesthetic of a male model…rippling muscles, triangular body, boyish smile. Though he’s not studying clowning, he’s our class clown, ironically. We call him “Short Bus”, a name he earned in 2007 when he tried to put diesel in a petrol engine. I love being his navigator on jumps. Good times, good music, good conversation. Ian is studying straps, diabolo, cradle (with Jackie), and adagio (also with Jackie).

Disa: My wonderful pixie roommate. I affectionately call her “Hermanita Aranita Bonita GRACE”, which translates to “Beautiful Little Spider-sister GRACE”. “Aranita” is a name that was given to her in Wisconsin, as her mother’s name is “Spyder”. Grace is tacked on in the end because outside of the ring, she has little (much like the author of this blog). We tease each other about it. Disa is a free spirit…a young child in a 19-year-old’s body. She loves to climb trees, play on playgrounds, chase after pretty, sparkly things. Though in this child-like innocence…she’s super mature and intelligent, and I have never found anyone who works harder than she. She is truly dedicated to this life, and she excels because of it. Her super-talents reside in clowning, web, and trapeze.

Staff

Steph: Out of the teachers, I feel closest to Steph (and in typing this, I realize the entire time I’ve been blogging, I’ve been spelling her name incorrectly. I think she prefers “Stef”…but for this blog, it might stay “Steph” because I’m not sure I can un-train my fingers at this point.) Steph teaches corde lisse, basic trapeze, silks, and hula hoops. She’s a tough broad…which is a high compliment. She can pound stakes better than most of the men here…a very independent woman (of 27 years)…an anomaly amongst others of the female gender in British culture. She’s beautiful inside and out…her caravan is always packed with students, and she lends her caring ear anytime it’s needed. She has a quiet demeanor and subtle sense of humor…but man does she have a fiery side. I respect her as a teacher and I love having her as a friend. She is truly an amazing human being.

Sab(rina): Our lovely dance instructor, originally from Wales. She looks as if a time machine swept her out of 1950’s America. She loves 50’s style clothing, music, memorabilia. Her range of dance experience and style is quite versatile. She’s quirky, funny, and a “party lion”, as Carola deemed her. She’s sweet as sugar and tough as nails. I do hope to become better friends with her by the end of the course. She’s a fabulous, fun-loving soul.

Zaya: Zaya comes to us from Mongolia. She’s a quiet 21-year-old girl who is teaching contortion and handbalancing. She has the most amazing girlish laugh I’ve ever heard…it sounds like little bells. For real…that’s not just a cheesy cliché.

Zorig: Zorig is also from Mongolia. While his culturally-induced sexist views are annoying, I do think he’s a good teacher. And I generally like him as a person. He has patience on his side, and he seems to connect alright with other students. He used to have an aerial act with his wife with such a high caliber, it would close whatever show he was on. Unfortunately, he suffered a major back injury, was in bed for a year, and has not been in the game again since. I think it shattered his heart, and I think, unconsciously, he’s trying to find his confidence again. My heart goes out to him.

Greg: Greg, Greg, Greg. A New York secular Jew…so cuttingly funny…most times at other people’s expense. Usually, you’ll hear my, “Greg!!!” hot on the heels of his latest punch line. He’s had an enormously successful career as a clown…graduated from the Ringling Brother’s Clown College and has traveled all over the world with his work. He and Ann make a fabulous team. I absolutely love his style of teaching, and I’m happy to have been able to engage in the conversations we have over the last few months.

Ann: Ann is an anomaly. Period. She’s outspoken, hard-driven, stubborn, with razor sharp honesty….and a nurturer. She has also had a hugely successful career as an aerialist. For a time, she was the world’s ONLY female catcher on the flying trapeze. It just goes to show you how tough she is. I’ve never met someone with such a vast bank of intelligence. I’m amazed anew every day. I feel a deeper connection with Ann. I hope our paths continue to cross after this course ends.

Friday, July 25, 2008: Snap, Crackle, Pop

I woke up at 7 am this morning. Today was a day of exciting prospects. Today was the day I would see a chiropractor.

One epic car-ride later, I hang up the phone with the receptionist at the clinic as she jumps in her car to come rescue our terribly lost transit van. I never knew a town could be so incredibly confusing.

I cannot begin to describe the incredible spirits that resided in this office. Our chiropractor, Jason, has been fabulous. He is gentle and sweet. We have to go see him again tomorrow. However, he told me my back is, indeed, NOT sprained…a notion that has been tugging at the recesses of my subconscious ever since my last visit to the hospital. When I vaulted over the box one month ago (the trigger to this whole saga), something twinged in my back before I even landed. This, explained Jason, was my back muscles sensing my spine slipping out of place and clamping down to protect it. For some reason, I am comforted by this information. I mean…really what it translates to me is all I have to do is relax and it’ll work itself out. Talk about a life metaphor. Jason realigned my hips and cracked my back in a major way. He told me I would be sore for the rest of the day…an accurate prediction. I also found out that all this time I’ve been putting heat on it, I SHOULD have been icing it. Oh…but the heat just feels so good! =(

My mental state has been lifted. This back injury no longer feels like something life-crippling. I know I’m going to be back in the game soon. I’m still needing any healing energy anyone can spare, though. =)

*************************************************************

My round mirror, five inches in diameter, sits on our kitchen counter. I stoop over it, examining the reflected image critically. Hmm…should have gone with earth tones on my eyes. I am wearing a cream gypsy shirt brazenly sliding off my shoulders, form fitting jeans that hug my hips. My hair is wrapped in a delicately beaded brown chiffon scarf, the trailing end which seductively drapes over the left side of my neck and over my breast. It sparkles subtly in the fading sunlight. I’ve braided my bangs and they sharply jut out beneath the fabric. I rotate my looking glass downward, hoping to get a fraction of the effect of a full length mirror. For the first time since I’ve been here, I feel comfortable in the image on the other side. Wonderful Steph unloaded a ton of clothes onto me so my wardrobe no longer consists of only black (in my hastened packing, I didn’t realize that the ENTIRE contents of my suitcase were monochromatic). Though I am not comfortable physically, I am at least alright with my aesthetic, at least for tonight.

We’re about to celebrate the birthdays of Disa, Sab, Ian, Tam, and Bart…yay for big parties!

2008-07-24T04:41:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, July 23, 2008: (To) Be-Mused

We’ve just arrived in Seaham. We’re pretty much right on the North Sea. We have a beautiful view right over a cliff and out to the water. It reminds me of an abstract painting I once saw. There’s a mini-Great Wall of China looping around from the shore with a lighthouse at the end. Tristan is leaning on the blue iron fence that separates the carpark from the grassy cliff. “This should have been orange,” he says, running his hand along the cold metal, then turning his gaze out over the water.

We’re waiting to build up the tent. Apparently, the event organizers didn’t expect us to arrive until Friday. This means, the carpark hasn’t been cleared out so that we can park our homes. Annoying. We’ve currently settled on the side of the street.

I’m astonished at how warm it is here. I’m sitting on a street corner with the sun nibbling at my skin with the sea not 100 feet away. It’s glorious.

****************************************************************

It is now just about 12:30 am. I should be going to sleep, but my mind is still wide awake.

We just came home from a grocery store run. On our drive back, we plastered ourselves to the side window as we ogled the moon’s reflection on the water. I said, “It makes me lovesick.” Tristan put his hand comfortingly on my shoulder.

*******************************************************************

I think I’m not able to sleep because I’ve spent the day sitting down. I felt terrible all through build-up. I couldn’t do a thing. I realize now that almost every task involves either lifting something or bending over to complete a task. Arg.

I sat on my ladder watching guiltily as my classmates were hard at work. The Norwegian film crew are still here and Carola caught up to us today (they’ve been in London for the past day and a half). As I was wallowing in simmering frustration, the director walked over to me. “Excuse me, Sora, but would you mind doing a short bit with Carola here? I just want you two to talk about your injuries.”

The last thing I wanted today was to be on camera.

One thing led to the next. First they’re staging Carola, Sab, and I talking about our injuries, to us walking over to the café down the street…to us sharing in tea cakes and chatting away….everything staged. Is there anything real about all of this?

So I guess I’m going to be on Norwegian television….no make-up, ratty hair, dumpy clothes and all. Joy. Did I ever mention my loathing of video cameras?

***********************************************************************

I was remembering back to a conversation I had with Orion not too long ago. He ended the conversation with, “Hey…I find myself using you as a muse for my art. Is that ok with you? Do you mind that I use you as a muse?” I told him how honored I was.

What struck this conversation into my head, I suppose, is a rapidly depleting sense of self-worth. Why would he want to use me as a muse? Why would anyone want to do such a thing? I guess at the time, I had a strong body, a useful body…capable of creating art and inspiring. These past few weeks, I have been a bump on a log….and in a very self-degenerating manner, I find myself hoping he has found someone else to inspire him.

I know my back injury is temporary. It’s like when I blew out my knee…I’ll be back on it in no time…but these days that pass me by feel like Salvidor Dali’s clocks melting dismally through my fingertips.

I received a message from a love today. “I’m sending you healing energy,” it said, “ I picture the color green for healing--i don't know if that's "right" but it is what i sense when i think of healing.” I glowed. I sometimes feel like it’s impossible to love someone more.

If you are reading this blog, please send healing energy. I am off to bed now.

2008-07-23T12:53:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, July 22, 2008: Circus Twister

I’ve been put in Betty (the props trailer) with Ann for the jump today to Seaham. She power talked the whole way to our resting place (which is a good four hours). She essentially gave me the entire history of the English class system, starting with…..St. Paul. I LOVED it. Hearing Ann recount history is like listening to a wizened and animated storyteller. She is so insanely intelligent…and hilarious.

We’ve arrived at our first meeting place in Woodall. As I walked in, there was a lively conversation going on about travel games. Then about games in general. “I think we should make Circus Twister,” said Sab.

“Yeah, we could make the dots really far apart,” added Bart.

With firm resolution, Ian blurted, “I’m not playing with the contortionists!”

*******************************************************

It is now 11pm at the Wooley Edge service stations. We are staying the night here.

I’ve just had a bit of a strange experience. Since Disa and I have no ladder to our room currently, I decided the best activity for tonight would be to hoist myself into my bunkroom once and just stay put. With my back being out again, I don’t want to be doing too much strenuous activity. So since about 8 pm, I’ve been in here, drifting in and out of consciousness, finally deciding it would be best to simply call it a night.

As I lay in my darkened bunkroom, I went through my nightly ritual of consciously feeling gratitude for everything in my life followed by generating healing energy to send to my back. Just before all of this, I had been running through choreography for my new silks act in my head. Now, I tried to visualize what I wanted my body to feel like…jumping, bending over, climbing the silks free of pain.

As I started to drift off to sleep, I could swear I heard music in the distance. It sounded like stringed instruments. Maybe a lorrie driver left their radio on. No…my mind had to be playing tricks on me. I could swear I heard my new silks act music playing.

I reached over the edge of my bed and thrust my hand into my backpack, producing my Ipod. I held it up to my ear.

In some entirely inexplicable event, my Ipod had not only turned itself on, but had jumped over to my “ACA” playlist and was playing….my new act music. The last thing I had been listening to was B-Tribe in my “New Music” file. There’s no way that it could have jumped lists without someone doing it manually.

I am puzzled and confused…and, admittedly, just the slightest bit freaked out….but at the same time, oddly comforted. Perhaps it is a sign?...or perhaps someone is trying to tell me something? I put the headphones on, started the music over, and ran through choreography once more.

But I am too tired for all of this musing now. Off to bed with me.

2008-07-21T14:18:00.000-07:00

Monday, July 21, 2008: I Love Andrew

Aaron just sent me an e-mail asking for the online ASL dictionary link…and I thought…why didn’t I just post it on my blog?

If you’re at all interested in learning basic ASL vocabulary, here you go: http://commtechlab.msu.edu/sites/aslweb/browser.htm

Keep in mind that not all the signs may be accurate. You have to be careful with these online dictionaries…plus, dialect is different in different parts of the US.

**********************************************************

I walked into the tent last night to be alone. I was very near tears and I wanted to collect myself. The lights were disconnected, so I walked into a darkened arena. Disa came after me briefly, lovingly holding me while my heart tried to purge its frustration. She stayed for a bit, and then I was alone with only my Ipod and knotted stomach. As the muted moonlight shined through the roof of our tent, the ring became a magical space. Soothing music drifted into my ears, and my feet began to glide over the white ring mat. I felt as if I were skating, but without the biting cold. The canvas easily slid beneath my feet as I slowly contracted, extended, flicked, and swirled. I lost myself, but the pain in my back brought me back into my body. I cried bitterly again.

What seemed like hours later, Disa entered the tent again and told me Ann wanted to see me in her caravan. I packed up my emotional baggage and was on my way half an hour later.

I knocked tentatively on Ann’s caravan door and walked in. Ian stood up, shot whatever was left in the cup in front of him, and left. “Sit down,” she said while pouring a copious amount of straight amaretto into the glass Ian was just drinking out of. I laughed. For real?

“This is the poor man’s Prozac,” she offered.

Over the next hour, I explained my frustration, issues of ego, yearning to participate fully in build-up and pull-down again. I'm not having a breakdown, I'm just trying to work through all of this. She knew…she just has that sense…and she offered kind words of encouragement...her words always lift my soul...even if they are biting in their honesty. And the alcohol kept running freely. “It just seems appropriate for tonight,” she said smiling.

And over the next few hours, the room began spinning. A handful of people entered the caravan throughout the night. The laughter rolled, and I came to realize that I have not had this much alcohol in my system in years. Years. Surprisingly, I felt fine…no headache, no nausea. This is surprising.

We talked about everything from human sexuality to absurd songs. As everyone thought long and hard about their sexual orientation percentage, I settled on 70% straight and 30% lesbian for myself.

I am so grateful for Ann and Greg. They seem to know exactly what is appropriate when needed.

Large quantitiess of amaretto, spiced rum, and two glasses of wine later, I spun off to bed. Bart made sure I made it into my bunkroom alright.

***********************************************************************

I woke up today with no hangover. I think it’s because I made a concerted effort to douse my stomach in water.

My back has been in so much pain today that I could not train. In fact, my hips are so out of line that my left leg is about two inches longer than my right. Arg. However, at the end of the day, Andrew knocked on my door and offered to try to work some things out with my muscles. We went into the tent, and for the next 15 minutes, he massaged, pulled, and pressed into my back. When I sat up, not only did I feel no pain, but my legs were the same length. God…I love Drew so much. He’s been such a good friend on this course. I told him he’s magical…he replied, “No, just a wrestler. I did this kind of work with my teammates all the time back when I wrestled.”

Unfortunately my feelings of painless euphoria only lasted about half an hour, but I still think things are better than they were.

Ian tied me to a chair during pull-down today. Tied me to a chair!! I gave him my most menacing face and sank my teeth into his back as he threw both me and the chair I was tied to over his shoulder, plunking me down in front of Ann and Greg’s caravan. “There now,” he said, “no more working for you. Stay and keep Ann company.”

Oye. What a day.

2008-07-21T13:11:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 20, 2008: Smart or Dumb?

I sit here in the tent as Disa, Tam, and Bart perform their meteors act for Barrie the Agent. I feel like there is rain falling from my heart. Last night, Ann asked me if I would like to do my act in the last show of today. I was stunned…my new act? My new and rough act? Barrie was supposed to be here and she wanted him to see what I could do, even though it was still in “embryonic” stages. I was elated and grateful.

In an ironic twist of fate, I couldn’t perform today. I woke up and felt as if an ice pick had been shoved straight down my back and out my tailbone. I don’t know what happened.

Ann offered one last time later in the day…not for the last show but to do a private showing to Barrie afterward. My heart screamed that it wanted to fly. My fingers traced the calluses newly formed on my hands this past week…badges of pride. But this pride of mine was facing a hard decision. Do I accept and have this agent get a second look at me (for he saw me in our Horsham shows once before, though unfortunately, he does not remember). If I go through with my act, I could possibly be taking myself out of commission for another three weeks.

With tears hiding behind my smile and glittery make-up, I told her I couldn't do it. And here is where I hit my conundrum. A hardened attitude is always edified. The one who sacrifices their body in pivotal moments…those are the heroes. Those are the ones who have food in their mouths and money in their pockets because they’re dedicated to their art. They are their art. They are the ones who make it.

But how am I to know if this is a pivotal moment or not until it’s over?...or ever? My path will continue on, but will it matter that this one agent did not see me?

I feel as if I’m making the right decision. There will be those who say I am…there will be those who say I wasted an opportunity. In a battle between the voice that says “go for it!” and the one who is more cautious, the latter wins.

Disa is now flying above my head on the trapeze…and my doubts come back. I could change my mind. In an instant, I could tell Ann that I really want to run my act. But I cannot.

I just finished reading a book (“Peony in Love”) that revolved around the Shinto belief system. In it, it talked of ancestors speaking to the living and hungry ghosts influencing the behavior of those walking on this earth. Though it does not align with my belief system, I cannot help but wonder if this is a way of one of my ancestors watching over me. Rei-chan…thoughts?

My chance has passed. Barrie and family are packing up to go. It’s all the better. I want to keep this body as strong as possible, wearing it away will not do me a bit of good.

In addition to my already struck pride, a tv crew from Norway came to film Carola. She’s fairly famous over there, and people wanted see what she’s been up to since she’s been in the circus. They filmed many of the acts, and my ego ached when, in the slot that I should have been in today, Steph did her silks act instead. If I do appear on Norwegian television, I will be nothing more than a chorus member or bimbo assistant. I love Steph, so I could not be spitefully jealous, and she rightfully was in the air. But I was still sad.

I made a choice not to perform today, so I will stand by it. For now though, I will take up residence in my cold melancholy mood.

Saturday, July 19, 2008: Beautiful

I was asking around the lot the other day of anyone who practices Reiki. I was trying to find out if the person whose energy I felt the other night is here in England or in the States. I had convinced myself it had been my friend Brandon in Cleveland.

As I was asking around, a person’s name was suggested to me. I walked up to them and discreetly asked if they had been sending Reiki to my back. They looked at me and in mock surprise said, “Me? No…never.” Flashing a quick, knowing smile, they then walked away.

So I’m not crazy, and I did find who was healing me. And really, all I have to say is…damn. I’m still mystified that I could feel it. It means the practitioner is a very strong conduit.

Absolutely beautiful.

***********************************************************

Our showcase was a blast. Everyone had a good time and the evening was thoroughly enjoyable. I struggled through my new silks act…and Andrew caught it on camera. When I am able, I will post it.

I struggle with certain things in my life. Self-image is one of them. I would love for people to think me loving, intelligent, beautiful, witty, superhuman always. Really…is there anyone who doesn’t desire this at some point in their life? So when I say I have a video of me royally fucking up and am willing to post it on the internet, I am facing the fear of being watched in a light that is a bit more…colorful….than the one I would ideally choose to shine on myself. However, in starting this blog, I have committed to portraying my life in honesty. This means showing my blunders, my struggles, my darker thoughts….along with all the pink fluffy shit. I figure, when I can, I would like to show progress, or, God forbid, regress. I want to paint this journey as vividly as I can.

****************************************************************

I have finally come up with a solid concrete plan for when I get back to Cleveland. Well, ok…nothing in my life is concrete, but at least I have a goal now. Since, when I get back to the States, I will be fully unemployed, my plan is this:

1) Hug Brian until he can’t breathe anymore…then take him out to dinner and pamper him to show him my undying gratitude for all the shit he’s had to endure by my travels abroad. This will be the start to an ongoing project.
2) UNPACK! I assume all my belongings will need to be washed, so I will try to keep them in some reasonable order until I can do a power cleaning.
3) Assimilate back into “normal” life. I assume this will be a continual struggle.
4) Work on my promo materials. I need a neat package that I can send around to agencies and companies.
5) Look for a job….but not just any job. I am not getting myself stuck in a soulless office again.

It’s a skeleton of a plan, but hey…at least it’s a start. Since there’s no way for me to tell the future, I just want to have some means of feeling in control. So bam.

*********************************************************

Greg has lent me a book called “The Year of Living Biblically” by A.J. Jacobs. It’s a piece of non-fiction written by a man who decided to live an entire year following the bible as literally as possible. And it’s hilarious. Disa and I have started having story time…which basically means we sit in our bunkroom while I read the book out loud. One of my favorite activities is to read to people. My friend, Michael, awakened this love in me. In the past, it’s been mostly with loves with pieces of literature that are close to my heart. I mean…how romantic is it to share in the beauty of words?

However, with Dis and me, it’s a time to relax and laugh. Yesterday, we spent a good hour giggling non-stop (not an uncommon activity around here, I suppose). Jacobs is an incredible humorist…and quite intelligent. He also approaches this project in a very respectful manner. He is not cutting with his humor…quite on the contrary, he is very innocent. I have a great deal of respect for him already and I am only in the first 20 pages of the book.

Oye…once again, I have written quite late into the night. Need to sleep, as tomorrow, I want to get up and train before our shows. Good night!

2008-07-17T14:11:00.001-07:00

Thursday, July 17, 2008: Out With The Old, In With The New

I did, in fact, end up waking at 7 am this morning. I was in the tent by 8…except Steph wasn’t there like I expected her to be. With people not scheduled to be in the tent until 9, the tent was eerily quiet and deserted. There’s a rule here that we’re not allowed to practice aerials if no one else is in the tent.

I let down the silks and started warming up. I figure…I’ve been VERY good about following rules around here…but in Cleveland, I used to practice fabric on my own regularly…plus, I never used to use a mat during rehearsal. I did end up putting the red crash mat underneath me just in case. If I wait for people to be in the tent, I may not get ANY practice time…so I bend the rules a bit. Plus, Ann approached me yesterday and asked if my act could be ready this weekend. I was like “Ummm…there are still two moves that I’ve NEVER done in my life…but I’ll try.” Since I was banned from the silks last night, I feel I have lost a lot of valuable time. If I don’t have my act ready, I don’t perform anything solo…as Ann has prohibited me from using my old act anymore. She wants it out of my body so that I don’t get messed up with the choreography of this new one.

So I’m pushing hard. I’ve just about perfected the Coffin and Sundial…except that I now have to find a costume that will cover my neck and shoulders. The bruising on my neck doesn’t bother me, but the burn has gotten to a point where my skin is sticking to the fabric. I believe I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but I think I’m going to draw the line here. The move is best done with my eyes closed…it helps me keep my balance and feel where the fabric is. Since this move is done without hands, I have to be very aware of my body at all times. Ooo la la…moving up in the world of danger! =)

Lunch is over! More later, I’m sure.

******************************************************

We just found out we have a day off tomorrow. Hooray! We also just found out we have a showcase tomorrow. BOOOO!

I still need to work out the rest of my act. In fact, tomorrow night may be the first time I run it with music…full out. So far, I’ve only gone through certain sequences. Eeek! Well, since it’s only for the teachers and students, there isn’t SO much pressure. Though, sometimes I feel that it’s harder to perform for my peers than for a massive faceless audience.

Today has been a particularly rough day for everyone. One student stormed out of the tent, I threw a hula hoop in rage, Disa and Jackie are feeling insecure about swinging trapeze. I just don’t know what’s going on. I suppose with only two months left of the course, the pressure is on and everyone’s feeling it. I turned to Steph today and begged her not to put me into the hula hoop act. Sympathetically, she told me only Ann could decide that. I walked away with frustrated tears running down my cheeks. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.

While I’m feeling insecure in some areas, I’m feeling confident in others. Today, during warm-ups, I felt so free to have my body back that I out-ran everyone. I felt so happy. I was like a speeding bullet and no one could stop me.

Silks have been wonderful. I’m using Steph’s super-bouncy, super-stretchy silks. While it makes my life considerably harder strength-wise, the drops are oh-so-nice on my back. I love the buoyancy.

Time to do seating!

Wednesday, July 16, 2008: Banned

I am sitting in my bunkroom munching on a banana before bed. Tomorrow, I plan on getting up at 7 am so that I can practice silks before the official training day starts. I should be going to bed, but my heart is buzzing with excitement.

Today was another day of learning new things. I have learned a completely new sequence on silks and also on doubles trap. My right shoulder and neck are burned and bruised from the silks. It looks amazing…like a bright purple and red tribal tattoo. I wonder if anyone can understand how good it feels to have battle wounds again that I can wear proudly.

As I was practicing tonight, only Craig, Steph, Ann, and Greg were left in the tent. I was on silks, Craig on tightwire, Steph foot juggling, Ann and Greg observing and doing miscellaneous tasks around the tent. All of a sudden, I look over at the tightwire just as Craig steps onto the platform. In slow motion, I saw it collapse underneath him. He flung himself off to the side, but still managed to catch his ankle on the turfer. Poor poor Craig. He’s so incredibly accident prone. It seems that he trips from one injury to the next.

Anyway, in some very twisted way, I have now been banned from silks for the rest of the night. Only minutes after, as Craig sat on the grass nursing his ankle with an ice pack, I was practicing my new move (the Sundial). I didn’t quite have the balance right and I fell right off! No harm, though, because I only fell about a foot and right onto our cushy mat. As I lay giggling on the floor, Ann threw up her hands and said “No more! You are not allowed to practice anymore tonight because I don’t want anymore injuries! Put it up!” I gave her a pouty face and she laughed…but stayed firm. Oye.

I ended up conditioning and stretching. Now…off to bed! Early morning tomorrow!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008: From Condoms to Questions

It was a jump day today. We went from the very north of England (Wirral/Wallasey/New Brighton) to Dartford, which is a bit east of London. It wasn’t such a terrible trip…only one wheel blown out on the Crazy Train. All our vehicles made it here in good time.

I woke up this morning and the first words I spoke to Disa were, “I’m not navigating!!”

Funny how I ended up in the front passenger’s seat of the transit again.

I’ve forgotten how much love I have for immersing myself in literature. I’m also pleased to find that I have not become so hardened emotionally that I cannot be moved to and kept in tears by printed word. I spent the entire jump reading (while I wasn’t navigating). This tragic love story ripped my heart from my chest even more than when I read Romeo and Juliet for the first time.

God I’m a sap.

In other news, our generator was not working one hour ago. I was reading by candlelight in my bunk when I heard waves of laughter outside my door. I stepped out.

“I need a small thin piece of rubber to fix this seal!” Greg had shouted from the genny truck.

10 minutes later: Ladies and gentlemen! Step right up to see…The Amazing Condom-Repaired Generator!!”

Thank you, thank you…the Festival Circus will be here all week.

No really...we really did repair our generator with a condom.

Not five minutes later, Tristan and Ian walked up to Ann with four questions. Readers of this blog, answer these for yourself.

1) What’s your favorite animal?
2) What’s your favorite color?
3) What’s your favorite form of water? (i.e: snow, ocean, bottled, etc)
4) If you had to enter a room (with no windows and no doors) for eternity, and you were allowed to bring one thing with you, what would it be?

The answers that popped into my head first are as follows:

1) White Tiger
2) Purple
3) Mist
4) A box of letters from all my friends and family

Tristan explained what the answers supposedly say about a person:
1) The animal represents how you see yourself
2) Color represents how others perceive you
3) Water form represents how you view lovemaking
4) Thing in eternal room represents how you view death

I absolutely adore Tristan. He took the night from laughing about generating electricity with a condom to philosophy and psychological analysis…and he didn’t even break a sweat. =) This is one of the many things that are so endearing about his personality.

Sleep now…long day tomorrow.

2008-07-15T06:54:00.000-07:00

Monday, July 14, 2008: Back’s back

I had my first full training day since my injury today. In my mind, I have been skipping about throwing daisies in the air all day. I was scheduled for silks, hoops, doubles trapeze, and adagio. Silks was amazing…I was in the air for 50 minutes out of the full hour. I allowed myself two five-minute breaks.

My back is holding up. When people ask how it’s doing, I say “ok”…because it just takes too damn long to explain. It’s confounding…I feel pain when I sit with my legs together straight out in front of me…and I feel pain when I try to pick something with weight up off the ground. ALL other times, I feel nothing. I didn’t feel anything during silks today. There way one move that I couldn’t do because it put me into the uncomfortable sitting position. I’m baffled.

My new act is coming along nicely. Since I’ve been internalizing the choreography for the past two weeks, I was able to get up in the air today and translate it without too much trouble. I’ve thrown in some never-before-used moves (at least, on my part)…and am trying to iron out transitions and build new tough spots (kill some nerves).

I decided to start a new project today. I guess today is a day of new beginnings. I decided that there is quite a volume of experiences and thoughts I have not been putting into this blog due to a need to keep some things to myself, to protect other’s privacy, to not offend by my written offerings. I’ve started a private journal which will not be seen by the outside world. It’s amazing how freely my words filled the screen. Everything I’ve been keeping to myself, emotions I have not expressed, tears whose meanings I have not shared painted my mind’s eye in black and white text across the luminous palate in front of me as I sat in my darkened bunkroom. How amazing it feels to write uncensored. I always say I have no secrets if people ask me honest questions…but I suppose there have been a lot of questions not yet asked.

2008-07-13T15:10:00.000-07:00

Saturday, July 12, 2008: Anything

It’s been a full day. We’ve had three shows so far, one more to go. Richard, the physio Carola and I went to go see the other day, is coming down to our circus lot and will be doing work on most of us. He’s exceedingly kind. As we were paying him during our visit, he told us that usually, he charges £30 per person. He only charged us £15 each. And today, he’s traveling to us with his table and everything…and will only be charging £10 per person. He’s really excited to be working on circus performers….I don’t think he even wants to charge money because he wants the experience so much. Such a nice man…his energy is wonderful.

Speaking of energy, as I was going to bed last night, I felt someone sending Reiki to my back. A warm, almost hot, sensation washed over my lower back and it was both calming and soothing to me. I fell asleep as the sensation continued, and I was dead to the world…so much so that I slept through my alarm clock this morning. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Reiki, it’s a Japanese form of energy healing. The basic concept revolves around channeling energy from the universe and directing it in a healing manner into the chakras. Practitioners can either send Reiki directly (with physical contact) or long distance. I will have to ask around. I couldn’t read whose energy it was, but it was lovely, and I am grateful.

As I’m sitting here writing this, music from the Windsor Theatre Royal show is washing through the air from the fairground. It’s a cheesy Kylie Minougue song….and all I can see is girls dressed in Powder Puff-esque dresses dancing around and Guy Barrett making Ann, Greg, Steph, and Zaya appear out of a box. Memoooorrriiiieees.

I would do anything to have my silks act in the show today. ANYTHING. I can’t even do vaulting because I tried this morning and it made my back tighten up. I can, at least, participate in the opening number (which is all dance), so this is a step. I’m also assisting Drew. I’m very happy to help him, but really, I hate having to fluff when I don’t have a solo act of my own. I feel like a ridiculous worthless bimbo that doesn’t have any talent beyond smiling, shaking her ass, and presenting/assisting the solo artist in the ring. UGH! Maybe this is my envious green ego emerging. Ann thinks next week, my back will be strong enough to do my silks act again. I hate being this idle. I feel like my muscles have melted away and my energy has been zapped.

Almost showtime! I’m sure I’ll write more later.

**********************************************************

Richard came to our lot tonight, looked at pretty much everyone on the circus lot (there were WAY more injuries than I had thought)…and didn’t charge a pence. I’m dumbfounded. How is it that such amazing people walk into my life? He even said he would come back tomorrow…mostly to see our shows, but to check injuries afterward as well. Wow…that’s all I can say.

***********************************************************

I sit here as people are congregated inside the tent…drinking after a long day’s work. I was social for most of the evening, but it’s time now to be a hermit. I do enjoy my alone time to internalize. Tonight I found the group split off into two smaller gatherings. The one I ended up in chatted merrily about random and meaningless things. We all had a few good laughs. As I would occasionally glance over at the other group, I could see they were deep in discussion about ideas, bigger things. It’s strange. I’m usually in that group. However, tonight, I found it nice to not have to think that much…to just laugh and be entertained…to throw out inconsequential jabber and share smiles all around. As a friend and I walked the other day, he asked me, “Since people are naturally drawn to you because you’re spiritual, loving, and a deep thinker, do you ever get tired of deep conversation and want to say “fuck off…I just want to play!”? I laughed. Come to think about it, I much prefer deep meaningful conversation to worthless pitter patter. I do like to have a good time, but I myself am naturally drawn to meaning, depth. Call me boring. =)

And speaking of boring, while everyone else is continuing this light social evening, I’m going into the ring to train (as much as I am able). Peace!

Friday, July 11, 2008: Summer’s Over

…and it’s, like, 40 degrees outside. It’s the middle of July and I feel like I’m back in Cleveland, early-winter. There are some who are hopeful we will see a few more sunny days, and then there are those who have lived in England all their lives. We did two shows today, and my teeth chattered violently through both of them. I haven’t been this cold since the beginning of the course. Granted, we’re right on the sea…maybe we’ll get a few degrees warmer when we move away from the water.

My morning started off with a phone call from my Jules. God…I miss her so much. It was almost four in the morning her time and she was just getting out of work. She’s so incredible…I wish I had the stamina and work ethic to do half of what she does and still be the kind and beautiful person she is. I love you, girl.

I just realized that I haven’t been this idle in years. I haven’t needed to be. Today, I had another very light training day. I was scheduled for hoops, practice for assisting Andrew, and choreography for my new silks act. I feel so useless right now. It’s only 10:30 and I feel absolutely exhausted. I think it’s a combination of the cold and the rise in activity in my day. God…it’s only been a week and a half…I feel as if I haven’t exercised in a year. I’ve been watching what I eat, trying not to put excess unnecessary food into my body, as I’m not burning it off.

I was talking to Ann about my act today. I was contemplating cutting the David Lanz piece (Christophari’s Dream) altogether and just using Apocalyptica. Ann was like, “No no…I like the contrast in music. It’s YOU. You come out and people see you like la la twinkle twinkle little star and then BAM! I’M A LION!” Ann’s always teasing me. She says I’m this little kitten that sees itself as a lion. I just laugh…but I AM a lion! =) It’s all in perspective, I suppose.

Ann’s keeping my silks act out of the shows for one more week. She has visions of me doing one Russian climb, my back seizing up again, and having to have the ring crew carry me out of the ring. I’m a bit more optimistic, being that my back is better yet today, but I am still grateful for the extra healing time. Jules gave me a good word of advice: “You want to have a strong body for long after this training is finished, so let yourself heal properly.” I am trying not to let my impatience get in the way of my healing. Bah!

Off to bed. Four shows tomorrow!

Thursday, July 10, 2008: Not-So-Deep Thoughts

After seeing the Blackpool Tower Circus today, I’ve decided two things. First, not all traditional English circus is terrible. In fact, this one was extraordinary….even better than Cirque Surreal (which was another tight show we saw a couple weeks ago). I saw for the first time a contortion act that didn’t put me to sleep and an ensemble juggling act that was entertaining. The show was well thought-out, and if you cut the tired clown acts, it would have been perfect.

I’ve also consciously realized that two of the sexiest looks on men are:

1) Black shirt and pants, suspenders, white tie, fedora…a full zoot suit is bonus. There was a Russian vaultige troupe who wore this costume. I caught myself drooling a few times.

2) Gauzy white shirt and flowy pants…barefoot. *Sigh* …this has always been a favorite of mine.

*****************************************************************

I’m missing companionship right now in a big way. Ann is my literature supplier at the moment, and she has given me a book to read that is centered on a tragic love story (and no, it’s not a romance novel). The imagery is immaculate and the feelings the writer invokes move persuasively inside me. It’s difficult beyond words to describe the experience of being separated from intimate moments completely…from those who have captured my heart….even from simply being held. To have all physical contact with loves removed, I feel an integral part of my spirit to be absent. To hear the voice of a love on the phone brings supple minutes where I can close my eyes and feel breath on my ear and soft skin pressed against mine, but it is only as strong as my imagination will allow. It’s not about sex, for I am harnessing my energies and directing them towards training. I do not lie when I say I really am having no problems being chaste in the interim. It is only that I have a deep longing to simply cuddle…to whisper and giggle and hug until I feel I am floating on a cloud. There is just no one here that can fill that space for me.

*******************************************************************

My epic story continues. Let’s refresh:
Car broken into, stereo and who-knows-what-else stolen. Check.
$800 racked up on my debit card at a Wal-Mart in Florida. Check.

Oh, and the device we use to get our internet broke, so I’ve been using Ann and Greg’s for the essential stuff (i.e: bank account). This blog probably won’t be posted for at least another week, I’m guessing.

I was online last night trying to work out the card fiasco. While I was checking my bank account, I saw on one of my other credit cards, there was a charge from Sprint for $150. I freaked out. Has my identity totally been stolen?!!

Phone call after phone call later, I found that on March 29 (the day I left) when I called into Sprint to have them put my phone on vacation, they didn’t.

They shut down my account instead.

The $150 fee was for breaking my contract. I was told that could be refunded, but they couldn’t open my account back up because it had been closed for more than 45 days. I asked the man to try anyway.

Magic. I have my account back (same phone number). The man who was helping me was completely baffled at what he was able to do. Laughing, I told him he must be a wizard. He was so nice, and on this night of high stress, I was grateful to have him on the other end of the phone. We even had a nice little side conversation while he tried to work things out. Ironically, he’s British but now living in Canada.

So my bank account is on its way to being fixed, someone DIDN’T use my other credit card, amazing Brian got my car window fixed, and my phone will be waiting to be activated the minute I get back into the States. The only thing now is we need to get our internet back. Things are on the up and up.

***********************************************************************

We were on our way home from the circus today, and Greg commented about how the director of Blackpool Tower said silks are not really a relevant act anymore. They’re only used in big shows these days as a throw-away act…fluff, if used at all. My heart sank. If I’m not going to get a job, then why the fuck am I here?

I am not hitting bottom…and if I am, there’s a trampoline down there. So what if big circus shows aren’t using silks anymore? I may not have traditional circus in my future anyway and how does silks being tired and overused take away from the fact that my life mission isn’t to become “Sora Sol: Silks Artist Extraordinaire”. It’s to save the world. =)

So there. I refuse to let my sunshine be stolen. Every obstacle is a window for opportunity.

*****************************************************************

My back is better. Carola and I went to go see a physio two days ago, and I’m progressively getting less gimpy. I was even able to participate lightly in the training day yesterday. I hung on the trapeze, and something in my left back muscle went “twing”…and suddenly, everything seemed to loosen up. It was already getting better before then, but I think that was the icing on the cake.

******************************************************************

It’s been interesting (but a good experience) acting as a translator for Carola in our innumerable medical trips. I now have a great appreciation for translators…I could never do it. For one, I cannot talk and sign at the same time. It just fucks me up. The grammatical structure is so different that you have to separate what comes out of your mouth from what shows on your hands. It’s like splitting your body in two. It’s also hard because my vocabulary is somewhat limited. So when we’re in the doctor’s office, I have to sign to Carola, then tell the doctor what I just said to her. Then when she signs back, I have to translate…but only after she’s finished because I can’t simultaneously talk and process what she’s saying next. Good news, though…when I DO have internet, I found a fabulous online ASL dictionary with videos for every word. I love it.

*****************************************************************

Tomorrow, we have shows. I’ll be assisting Drew with his act, in my new, crazy costume. Well, my new new crazy costume. I never even got to wear the Tinker-Bell-on-acid one. I replaced it with one that more matches the style of his costume. It’s a fluorescent green mini skirt and fishnets with a fluorescent yellow top. Bam diggity.

****************************************************************

And to end on a high note, I’ve selected new music for my new and improved silks act. Since apparently silks is so “out”, I have no pressure on me…which will, ultimately, make the act kick ass, I’m hoping. I work so much better when I’m relaxed. =)

Oh wait…I lied. One more thing: Ann thinks she’s going to put me in a hoops ensemble act. She obviously hasn’t seen me in practice. I laughed heartily when Jackie told me…and then asked if she was serious.

K…off to bed. Tomorrow will bring great things…I’m sure of it.

Monday, July 07, 2008: Onto Liverpool

We got on the road at a little after noon today. I had gotten an e-mail from Jules right before we left. There’s a book she references in which one section is focused on linking physical ailments with things that are going on in one’s life which may be causing them. According to the author, the lower back is linked to worries over financial troubles. Wow…dead on. Perhaps I need to re-find security in the fact that I have always been taken care of. Thank you, my Julia Rose. Once again, you have found the words which comfort me most.

Disa is behind the wheel for her first journey in England. Well, I suppose yesterday was her first, but today, she’s driving across country. Poor girl. Before we left, she cried. It’s scary…I don’t envy her for not wanting to do it, but it’s out of necessity. Sab’s out because of her toe, and Disa is the only other student that knows how to drive stick.

I’m in the navigator’s position and I truly wish I wasn’t. I hate navigating…always worried that I’m going to get us lost…which happened today…and it wasn’t easy because Disa sat in the driver’s seat freaking out. There was stress everywhere. I’m now catching shit for not knowing how to read a map…and I’m still in the navigator’s seat. If I can’t navigate, then WHY PUT ME HERE?!!

Today hasn’t been a great day…filled with tendrils of stress wafting from everyone. I think everyone is still recovering from the airport gig. I am not in a great place, myself, but this is because life is so much harder when I have no access to money. I know Ann and Greg will front money for me until my card shows up, but I just hate asking to be covered. Grrrr.

Though I love Disa, I have now put on my headphones. She made a comment about using a map so that we don’t get lost, and that was a last for me. I know she didn’t mean it maliciously, but as I am already stressed, I just am closing off for now. I would do anything to be in the back right now not having to worry about anything…yet here I stay. I just want to say “fuck it” and just go to sleep. But no, I will stay awake and hopefully not get us lost again. Ugh.

It’s weird how communication must be so much more direct here. I’ve found that it’s most effective to speak my mind and then work it out rather than hold it in. Like just a few minutes ago, to Disa, I said, “Look, that comment was really antagonistic. Just letting you know.” Bam. Done. And now I’m making my own space with headset and computer until I cool down a bit which shouldn’t be long. When you’re living with people 24/7, I’m finding that even more than in the normal world, I have to follow a pattern like this or end up not being friends.

Hopefully tomorrow, I’ll be able to go see a chiropractor. My back is better, but now the pain has moved down to the tip of my tailbone. Weird. Hmm…maybe it’ll just move its way out. I mean, how much lower can it go? =)

Since I’ve been ordered on strict rest this week, the plan is that I will be performing this weekend again. Awesome…fingers crossed.

**********************************************************

I received an e-mail from a past love today. There have been a few things in our friendship that we’ve been trying to iron out, and the good thing is that both of us are willing to communicate. Good first step. In a past message, he wrote some lines that made it seem he had found no value in the relationship we fostered. He made it seem that because we were not monogamous, that there was not true love present. Ouch. When I asked him about it and expressed my hurt, he wrote back and said that he had been brought up with the idea that true love was one person committed to another. In my reflection on this perspective, I cannot say that he is wrong. I can say that I do not agree in the least with his views. In this funny concept that no one can make tangible, this “love”, how does one define where truth lies? My heart is less sad in knowing that we are simply two entities with separate universal views. I have had to resign myself to this stopping point many a times. It is not of any good use for me to chase around in circles something that cannot be proven in one direction or another. Here, I release any control I would like to have on the situation of our friendship and leave it up to the thought that perhaps our paths might cross again sometime in the future. He has distanced himself, saying that in order to respect his current relationship and show true devotion, he should not see me one-on-one anymore. Woah…I don’t understand, and I’m hurt, but I accept that it’s how he feels. So be it.

‘Puter battery is running low. I have much more contemplation to run through my mind, but unfortunately, it will not be processed through writing just now.

2008-07-07T02:48:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 06, 2008: Aw, man…SO CLOSE!!!

Ok, so everyone is at the service station right now except for me and John, our Romanian mechanic/driver. At around 9:30 pm tonight, we were all in the middle of a “Circus History in America” lesson, when Greg came over to the table and announced that someone needed to go with John in the tug to go back to the airport and pick up our seating trailer. Since it didn’t require any lifting and since I did a fraction of the amount of work everyone else did at the airport, I volunteered to go. I had an inner battle right before I offered….I really wanted to be part of the lesson, but my conscience got the better of me. Oh well, I’ll just have to do a little more reading.

I sit here in the tug right now. The actual distance hasn’t been bad…it only took a little over an hour to get there. I glanced at my watch when we got on the M25 (home stretch)…Great! We’ll be home before midnight!, I thought.

No such luck. We seem to have reached a traffic jam and it looks now like we won’t be home for another hour. DAMN IT!!! SO CLOSE!!!

The day has been…interesting (when has it not?). We all woke up around noon and were on the road by 1pm. For the first fifteen minutes of being awake, my body felt AMAZING…no pain…anywhere. Sadly, though, my back pain came crawling back. Since it’s a travel day, I’ve been forced to sit still…exactly what I need to be doing. When we get to Liverpool, I’ll be going to a physio (British term for a chiropractor) to get checked out (and hopefully cracked back into place).

We arrived at the services a little after 2pm and snatched up a free area to sprawl out in. I went to go get a coffee. When I got to the register, the woman handed back my card. “I’m sorry,” she said, “your card has been declined.” I quickly paid with the last bits of cash in my wallet and made my way over to the ATM. “Declined” flashed across the screen.

I hopped online….to find that someone has been using my card in Florida and made two purchases amounting in just under $800. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but I stayed surprisingly calm (exhaustion can do that to you).

No worries…it’s being taken care of. However, at the moment, our phone has run out of credit (it’s a pay-as-you-go sort of deal), and the card that I’ve been using to refill minutes has been frozen. They’re sending me a new card, but with how mail gets to us, I won’t get it for another few weeks. So, I’m out of a means of accessing cash, and I’m out of my main link to the outside world. I can still get incoming calls (I think)…so PLEASE CALL ME!!!

With my car getting broken into last week, I’m very surprised at myself that I’m not more freaked out Ann was very shocked, too. “Man…I think that would have pushed me over the edge. I’m surprised you’re so calm.” Maybe I’m just being numb to it all…or maybe I’m finding that I just don’t have the energy to devote to being upset over things like this.

Ok. List of sucky things at this moment:
- Shitty people breaking into my car
- Shitty people using my card at a Flordia Wal-Mart
- Being crippled
- Losing the little handle thing that winds my flashlight up (to charge it)
- Essentially not having a phone

List of good things:
- Got some exciting news from home (but am not going to publish it just yet)
- My back, though painful, is making progress towards healing
- Might get to see my friend, Alesha, this upcoming weekend
- Get to hang out/chill out at the services with my computer and a cup of coffee (aaahhh)
- Money is getting reimbursed to my debit card
- Even though I don’t have water or electricity, I still get to sleep in my own bed tonight.

This little trip to the airport with John as been quite the adventure. He only speaks a few words of English, so trying to navigate for him is sometimes a little bit hard. And on top of that, trying to navigate in the UK is a nightmare to begin with. John is so nice, though. All the Romanian workers at Zippos want to come work for Ann and Greg because they actually get treated like people here. Greg carries around a Romanian/English dictionary with him. At the main show (Zippos), they just get yelled at in English, as if that’s going to solve anything. It seems that immigrant workers get treated like animals in most circuses. So so so sad. Before John joined us, we got word that we were getting the mean/grumpy worker. I haven’t seen mean OR grumpy out of him yet. His wife was just here visiting and she was incredibly sweet as well.

***********************************************************

Ann and Greg have been incredible. Last night they not only let me hang out in their caravan during pull-down, but they also let me sleep there (being that I was homeless). I told them I would sleep in the transit. “You are NOT sleeping in the transit,” Ann told me.

I’ve never met two hard ass people who are so freaking compassionate and loving. They give everything they have to the students and their staff…emotionally and materially….but they’re not afraid to speak their minds when they feel people are out of line. When it comes to being direct, Ann gives it to people straight and while being diplomatic, does not beat around the bush. I get the feeling that a few people have not recognized this as such an admirable trait, but I definitely see it as a virtue.

All of this teaches me about those little boxes we compartmentalize people into. Both Ann and Greg bust out of these boxes with elbows flying. I love them so much and I am so grateful they have walked into my life.

It’s 1 am…sleep time!

First video!

2008-07-05T13:28:00.001-07:00

Ok...be kind. These are the basic trapeze skills I've been learning that I threw together in about 30 minutes for a student showcase a few weeks back. Weeee!!! Thank you for the inspiration, Orion.