Pay total atttention to every movement

This morning I woke up to a 2 Aleve, 2 Aciteminiphen, ice pack kind of day. My back was screaming from overworking from last night's performance.
Pay attention to me.

Even a long hot shower didn't help enough, so I scheduled an appointment with the acupuncturist where I stayed for over an hour.

By the time that Amy arrived  for the warm up I could move well enough to dance with modifications based on the pain calibration scale (1-10  1-3 okay 4-6 be careful, 7-10 not a chance).
Too much sitting and standing 6
Bending over to pick up the piano bench   8
going down to the floor  8
Getting back up   10

So, we decided that I wouldn't sit back down except to play the piano and wouldn't go to the floor. It even was going to be hard to walk fast enough to get the Snapple in time from the refrigerator, so we put it on the counter.

And so it went during the warm up. Adjusting, revising, noticing the muscular boundaries. I found  a playful yet subdued, fulfilled yet cautious side. In some sense I had always been marking the dancing, moving from the outside in. Tonight was from the inside out

The question tonight: What did it mean to pay total attention to every movement, and fullfill that movement instant by instant?

Remarkably, I had more fun tonight not pushing outward, but being contained and true to what was possible.
Playing and storytelling came easily. The doorway dance more subtle and carefully crafted.

The food tonight was a bountiful feast, each dish carefully prepared and chosen to honor the evening.

A woman told a story about how her life was changed dramatically when  her entrance to kindergarten was delayed because of a lunch box thermos. Another found the piano storytelling reminiscent of her daughter plunking an imagined story from a picture in a music book.

Several people clapped after the very first piano piece. They all laughed at the overlap of recorded and live playing.

I was offered this poem after the performance

As swimmers dare

To lie face to sky

And water bears them

As hawks rest upon air

And air sustains them

So would I learn to attain

Free fall and float

Into creator spirits deep embrace

Knowing no effort earns

That all surrounding grace

                          -anonymous

Things unsaid to be left answered

Two dress rehearsals and two performances, 4 startlingly different experiences.
the first two: friends  Lots of laughter and recognition. In fact, at least half of the audience  had participated in at least one of the stories. Some had been primary actors in several. My friend who came with me to the hospital after my accident. My friends who came and cooked and cleaned for me. My friends who celebrate with me in my home and at the ball park.

young dancers just arrived for the Headlong Institute.
"I moved here a week ago".
"I moved here yesterday."

I am touched by what touches people.

Coffee drinking, doorframes, summer camp, joy from tragedy, cats, piano playing. Things unsaid in the piece that leave so many questions left unanswered until the potluck.

The piece in some ways is still a mystery with very different aspects revealed to me each night.

We  may talk about the theme song from our households, and everyone chimes in to wistfully sing Joni Mitchell's song Circle Game. Or we  may talk about our summer camp experiences, our cats and what we love about our neighborhoods.

One woman who has just moved here says "I live in Spruce Hill' which in fact is not an actual neighborhood, but I am delighted. If I can make up a holiday, she can make up a name for her proximate set of streets that cozily surround her.

One man shares the pain of losing a parent.

One shares that his wife is adventurous and he timid, then she tells a wild and hilarious story about walking on glaciers.

Someone wants to know what happened to the rabbinical student. That is a story for later.

I feel that I am talking too much. unleashed, as Amy would say.

Visions and wishes

My house is filled to the brim with my 'crew'. Costume, production, stage manager, writer, music and Andrew of course.

We dance some wonderful quirky versions of 'Visions'. In this improv each of us takes several turns starting movement danced to the same music each time. It may be 48 seconds or over a minute, usually soft repetitive sound. After 3 rounds of this we sit quietly while the music plays one more time remembering what has just been danced in the space.

Today we end up with more contact in our dances, the first time really. Usually we have spied each other from across the living room and played from a distance. How joyous to find ways to connect, very gently even hesitatingly.

Last rehearsal we danced the 'compulsion' improv. We start out with a movement and work it knead it, blast it from all angles, spacial volume size rhythm attitude seeing how far it can go or even how subtle it can be. At first Ididn't understand and held back from the exploration, but the second time felt freer to let it rip. Wish I were in a study to do this to have the space to move in.
I do miss dancing in the studio.

then the walk through. now with 5 people watching me doing this solo that i don't yet understand. I'm still feeling so inadequate in the piano playing for the Story about coming Home.  My strategy is to do more practicing of my Bartok and other mentors to find more variety and tools. I want to play bigger lusher with an ability to change keys more consciously

Singing my song Filled at the end seems so melancholy. I like singing it quietly gently with less emotional baggage than when it was first written.
Wish I could sing one of my more spunky songs.  WE are All or Neurontin blues. Would like to have the whole piece be more playful.

what else can I write about my hand for the body musings. how about the blog post from the game.

My house

My abode, my body, my life, my home, my shelter, my safe space, my ground, my house

I moved  furniture around in my living room. took out the bookshelves, moved the clunky entertainment center into the corner, set up the green chairs to that the wooden airloom chair is framed and highlighted.
Now most of my cds and cassettes are packed helter skelter in boxes. I made no attempt to put them in any order which means i will have to go through them carefully when they are returned.
Also culled out books upstairs. these too went into boxes and need to be disposed of (unlike the cds and cassettes)
The piano remains in the same spot.
Bought a cream colored rug for the living room and a blue and beige rug for the dining room. Am looking forward to getting the cream rug next week. It will dramatically change the room.

Able to swim at least 5 laps these days though still very conscious of protecting my back. I don't feel free to move in daily life. Cautious and always nervous that a small movement will trigger a relapse of pain. Not as fluid or as full bodied dancing either.


life is more than half full, but there is some emptiness.

I just turn the lights off and play

This was a rough night. So hot the air conditioner couldnt keep the room cool. I had a hard time playing my song 'filled' without singing along. It sounded so clunky and simplistic at first. Only when I played it while singing the verses in my head was I able to add color and tone to the simple piano lines. Then when I heard it, I felt a sense of accomplishment allowing me to sing. When I play and sing at the same time, I have to stretch and overreach the words, but when I sang it to the recorded music, it felt lighter, less dramatic, less hyperdramatic. I liked singing that way..

Andrew outlined a draft of the piece, and it remains a mystery to me what this is 'about' or how it will fit together. He has this understated aesthetic that is fascinating to me  I remember one of the first choreographic exercises "a phrase based on fighting with your body'. My face  paralleled the contortions of my body. Andrew, speaking softly and without criticism in his voice told me not to use my face. I distinctly remember that it was not a suggestion, but a direction. That is how our rehearsals go often. He is the director and is always pleased with the work I'm doing while simultaneously giving cues of how to improve it. I think this has left me free to just create, recreate, and mostly learn.
I am happiest when we are dancing  together, or when he leaves me to create a phrase or take on a challenge.
And I have been challenged both in piano playing and in  the doorway dance. I have been put 'under duress' when he ups the ante. For example, we created a phrase based on some spacial or timing prompts (fall and rise slowly, turn, 4 steps, 3 sharp movements). Then do that phrase in the linear space of the doorframe. Then do it faster. Then sandwich an improv between the repetition of the choreographed piece.

I wonder how this will turn out...

What I've learned so far

Now that I've been rehearsing for the performance of This Town is A Mystery, I can say that some unexpected gifts have come my way.  Andrew seems to be smitten with my piano playing or at least using the piano as much as possible.

As a result, I have had a chance to go through my music books and find all of my 'comfort pieces' the ones that I used to play well and have at least one or two achingly beautiful passages in them that I look forward to getting to when I play them.

Least satisfying has been my range in improvising. I have a sensitivity to rhythm and mood, but not a great deal of skill in chord structure or depth in using the whole length of the piano. Over the past month I've been revisiting my classical pieces, reminding myself how to practice, and renewing the dexterity in my hands and fingers.
Last night Andrew asked me to improvise for 10 minutes so they could record. I wanted some music with an edge that I could dance to, and with that intention found that I was able to expand the width of my playing range on the piano and incorporate some of my 'comfort motifs'. There was a bit of Bartokian motif and the run from the Mozart sonata, a bit of badly done Gypsy Rondo and riffs on the Chopin waltz.

Very satisfying and illuminating to see even this subtle transformation after a month of practice.

The beginning

I have followed Headlong for a while and have enjoyed, been intrigued by, longed for an inside look at their sense of play and unusual juxtiposition of movement words, props and pure fun. When I received the email inviting applications for the project, I immediately filled it out. I mean immediately.
How fun then to have them come to my house for the 'interview'. Apparently, I was early in the process because there was no particular format other than me talking alot about my life and why I live in Mt Airy and some disclosure that I am a trained dancer and performer.
The piano caught their eye. When asked if I played, I said that I was 'okay'.

It was such a surprise really when Andrew wrote and said that they wanted to do the performance in my house. My living room is tiny, fits maybe 9 people. Not too much jumping or leaping movement to be done here. I wondered how in the world this would work out.

And when we talked about the scope I was even more shocked. This is a Live Arts production, 50 hours of rehearsal, lights camera, sound.

I decided to jump head first-and to surrender myself to the process with faith that the product would reflect a way of moving or being or creating that I would not have come up with on my own