Once upon a time I called myself a dancer. I danced my whole life until the end of last year when quite suddenly…I stopped.
No more teaching, no more leotards, no more performances. Just like that.
Such a monumental transition in my life was very hard for me to swallow, and most of 2013 was spent figuring out who I was beyond the dancer. When you’ve been doing something for over twenty years, it has a way of becoming a part of you.
I wrote I Found Some Change, which some of you may remember, when it all happened.
Recently Mr. H was out of town and I had this crazy urge to dance.
It was dark, the cats were asleep, and uncharacteristically I felt lonely. So I threw on jeans and a tank top, some music, and filmed this in one shot.
It wasn’t about choreography or perfection, it was simply about moving.
Mr. H threw in some nifty video effects after he saw it. So even though we were apart when it started, we came together to create something in the end.
The video is silent, due to music rights mumbo jumbo that I didn’t want to mess with on YouTube. But I realized that the silence itself was beautiful, because when I move everything becomes still and quiet. The music, even the sound of my own breath.
This project taught me that entirely letting go of something isn’t always the right thing to do. The dancer is still inside and I’m OK with it being right there.