Recent Travels pt.1 - NYC, London and Wales

Recent Travels pt.2 - 2 parts UK, 3 parts Bombay

Recent Travels pt. 3 - Bombay (and one from Goa)

Recent Travels pt. 4 - Sikkim

Recent Travels pt. 5 - Sikkim

Hedonism

If I could fill my days with all of my favorite things, what would become of me? First and foremost I think music and dance should happen, in one form or another, as much as possible. There isn’t really a need to force the issue—what’s important is the opportunity and means available to do it when so inspired. Likewise, it’s nice to have art supplies handy so I can exercise my visual senses and witness beautiful designs. Good food is a must, organic and fresh—I like the food I’ve grown the best, not so much out of pride, but because I watched it grow from birth and feel connected to it. On that note, water, loads of water, enough so there’s always plenty to drink and preferably from a spring. My family, albeit in much smaller doses, but equally as accessible, especially my nieces and nephew (when they’re not cranky). A yoga mat. Funny how this one was overlooked, even though ideally I can practice anytime I want to (and perhaps take for granted that I have the time to do it everyday should I so choose). I love yoga, it is the root of all of this. Healing—I’d like to do this every day, as well as playing outside with my dog. Time in the sun, the wind, the woods, and under the stars. Time to stick my feet in the ground and just be. Swimming. Cooking. Dancing again—it keeps the spirit moving. Friends, particularly other dancers—it’s as if we exist in another dimension. Our communion is effortless, as it is with some of my musician friends (because they’re dancing on the inside). Love. I haven’t had enough of this, intimate love that is. But thinking of this makes me sad, so why should I go there? Love. For life. Filling the heart, brings joy right back, feet in the Earth, breathing. Breathing. Writing—so good for the soul. Allowing positivity to flow any way that it wants. Being free and motivated. A space to be free and motivated.

Oh yeah, and frequent massages.

Dancing and the Luminous Sea

Over the last few months I've been extremely fortunate to have integrated a regular dance "practice" into my general routine, which isn't structured down to the minute but does include a minimum amount of physical activity, art-making, work, writing, yoga, meditation, music, time in nature, time spent talking, etc., throughout the course of a week. I've been dancing sporadically for over ten years now and have subsequently developed my own style, drawing moves from other dancers I've admired at gatherings, though I've never taken a formal or traditional dance class. In this sense, my movement has evolved from within and is essentially an exercise in raising my energy level while exploring my luminous sphere (i.e., the space extending all around the axis of my physical body--see Da Vinci's "Vitruvian Man"). I do this by becoming the sphere itself--my body is the engine, so I work it like a wheel or piston, maintaining a certain rate of locomotion by bouncing from foot to foot in time with the rhythm. Meanwhile, I move my hands gracefully through the space around me, below me, above me, sometimes creating symmetry, and at others simply allowing my fingers to guide me. The feeling is most similar to swimming, actually, as it's as if I'm treading, expanding and contracting through an infinite sea of energy. Recognizing that the sea is in a constant state of flux brings awareness to my own fluidity, like an orb floating through a clear void, separate from the whole, yet composed of it entirely. My aim is simply to remember this and to stay with the breath as a means of cleaning it out.

In the past I traveled across the globe looking for parties where the music didn't stop, where the vibe was positive and celebratory, the greater sea passive in demeanor yet ecstatic in motion. Oddly, this scenario has consistently been difficult to locate. All too often people use dance as a means of escape rather than as a form of prayer, and with this comes the pitfalls of dark clubs and synthetically-driven raves. Don't get me wrong, I learned how to move in these places, but at some point began to wonder why I had to go out at 4 A.M. to dance. Furthermore, since the "clean" events are so rare, I learned that I needed to dance for hours on end, working my body into utter exhaustion, never knowing when I'd have another opportunity to get down.

This Fall I've discovered (with the aid of a great teacher) that an hour a day, three times a week, is better than ten hours every-so-often. My body stays ripe and I'm able to achieve the same states of bliss just by diving into the movements. As the practice has become regular, I've found that my connection to the luminous sea has been strengthened, and with that has come a greater awareness of how to swim within it. Furthermore, I've noticed a direct correlation between hyperactivity and one's ability to relax more fully. In other words, the more kinetic energy we work through us, the more equipped we are to dance without moving a muscle.

Rebirth, 2008