I (Still) Don’t Know.

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Image“Eeire” is not quite right. “Freaky” makes it seem a little overblown… maybe “serendipitous?”

Yeah. Serendiptious.

That’s what I would call looking up to realize that in a city with hundreds of thousands of vehicles registered, you’re behind the exact same vehicle that prompted a blog post several months about signs from the universe. The same car, same license plate proclaiming with that loaded phrase that carries so much weight with me.

And nipping at its heels, the same unanswered questions, the same desire to find some hidden, emotional significance, the same residual feelings that leave me feeling raw and wrenched apart.

Leaving is not Enough

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Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell
by Marty McConnell

leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses,
you make him call before
he visits, you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

I Don’t Know.

Posted by meganhartmann on

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I heard those opening violins right trailing out of my speakers right as I pulled up behind the van.

I froze, staring at the license plate, wondering about the synchronicity of it. What it all meant.

Because for someone as emotional and watery as me, every little coincidence had to mean something… right? I was always searching for some deeper, hidden, sometimes unfathomable significance.

Make peace… my heart whispered, before my brain could slap a protective hand over its mouth.

Ah, that old romantic idea: Try to fight for resolution, peace, and call a cease-fire. Try to explain myself one more time in a vain attempt for resolution. Not to win anything back or regain old ground: just a simple, optimistic effort to rid the world of just a little of that fierce hatred I still felt rippling in burning waves across the empty space and radial silence.

A different version of myself might have tried to explain yet again, but when it came down to it, I kept arriving at the same conclusions: I had to leave. We weren’t right together. And if I really cared about this person, is was better to remove my brain’s gag on my heart and let it speak freely.

And deep down I know that I will never be forgiven or understood, no matter how I try to explain it.

So my whole heart wished him well, while my brain switched songs and drove away.

February

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Sometimes it would be such a blessing to just forget, but I never do. I never can. Instead I sit and replay, dwell, linger over every hurtful word and every broken moment.

It doesn’t help when that bitch Winter really takes her time, slowly and cruelly, before she lies down to die. With her last remaining gasps, her claws gouge hateful curses over ice, shit, and snow, while we hide, huddled inside and curled into blankets, waiting for it to end, hoping just to endure.

February can suck it. Good riddance.

New Year’s Eve

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I’ve never been much of a Christmas person, but I’ve always had an interest in New Year’s Eve for some reason.

I’m not quite sure why it is — possibly because of the promise of self-reinvention that seems to accompany it, or perhaps because of that old adage I heard years ago that however you spend your New Year’s Eve is indicative of how you spend the rest of your year.

That last part is so delightfully “When Harry Met Sally” and it appeals to the romantic in me. If I could only design the perfect night, with the perfect person to smooch at the stroke of 12! Guaranteed bliss for 2013!

But life doesn’t always work out quite that cleanly. When I look back to last year, I spent New Year’s Eve stressed about my job and commuting to St. Louis to perform with the phenomenal Beggar’s Carnivale. The man I kissed at the stroke of 12 didn’t end up being the Harry to my Sally, and later on we parted ways. I lost many people I hold close due to death and it hardened me for awhile.  I got a new job midway through the year, and I began pursuing new leads and branching out to work with new dancers and learn new styles.

I learned a lot, I endured a lot, and I emerge at the end of this year a little battle-worn and scarred but pleased with the work I’ve done so far. I feel much more focused on what I want, and more driven to create the year I want to live.

I go into this New Year’s Eve negotiating contracts, trying to be a smarter and more driven dancer. This show will be the largest show I’ve performed in and is proving to be a lot of work — in addition to belly dance, I’ll be dancing back-up for Bollywood celebrity, which is a bit daunting. But I’m so ready for the challenge.

I’m going into this year prioritizing my health and my training. I’ve been working hard these past few months, and I want to enter the new year with momentum as opposed to getting the ball rolling beginning January 1.

And I can’t really afford to NOT prioritize these things, since in the first three months of 2013, I already have I have 3 out-of-town dance trips planned, 15 Chicago shows confirmed and 2 being solidified, and a TV appearance on the docket.

It’s gonna be one hell of a year…

On the Horizon…

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Fate has a funny way of comin’ ’round.

I’ve been working as a Leasing Agent for over a year, and I was getting burnt out. I had to work every weekend, which interfered with my ability to travel and perform, where my heart truly lies. I had tried unsuccessfully to move around to a different position within the same building I worked in, and got overlooked for a promotion every time. I was surly, burnt out, and questioning what I wanted my life to look like and wondering why things were unfolding the way they were.

As soon as I put it out in the universe that I wanted weekends off and time and money to pursue what was important to me, then all of the sudden, a job opened up at a different building within my company. Before I knew it, I had raced through two interviews and landed a sweet Monday-Friday position at a new building right by Navy Pier. And interestingly enough, it was more lucrative and better work than any of the other positions I applied for in the past.

With this new change, all sorts of doors open. Finally I think I will have the time and money to pursue the lifestyle I want. As a result, I’m pouring myself full-force into my upcoming shows, and I’ve already begun booking for 2013 for both myself as a solo artist and also with my dance partner Jessica Beuckman. Look out for us at the following shows:

October 26: Performing “Mehbooba” with Jessica at The Meadows Club in Rolling Meadows, IL

November 17: Performing an all-new piece that I’m pretty excited about and a repeat of an old choreography TBD with Jess at the Meadows Club in Rolling Meadows, IL

November 30: Traveling with Lady Jack to perform at the Holiday FEAST of FANCY Burlesque Dinner Show in Rochester, MN

2013: Trips in the works to Columbia, SC and Washington, D.C.!

Please contact me if you’re interested in booking me or Jess for 2013, and I’m looking forward to completing 2012 with a bang!