Hires, Pliers, and Nose Rings

She screwed her eyes tight, shutting out the light, trying to shut out
the realization…

SNAP.

“There. Take a look.”

She opened her eyes.

Blue eyes she didn’t recognize stared dully back into her own. It was
a cleverly painted face, individuality concealed under a thick
shellack of conservative pale foundation, Feminine and Sexy all
covered up with non-offensive and subtle tones. Nondescript earrings
and a slick, severe bun, meant to be noticed and then promptly
forgotten… Gingerly, she fished the broken half of her nose ring from
her face. The empty hole glared at her.

Her eyes dropped to her suit: pressed, starched, crisp, corporate
and fresh from its plastic garment bag. She didn’t know the child in
this costume, this bland business face…

His arm around her shoulders jolted her out of her reverie. “You look
so grown-up!” he said with a proud laugh, his smiling face appearing
behind hers in the mirror.

She turned to her father, holding the wire cutters in his hand and the
other half of her nose ring.

Déjà vu hit her in the form of another face, another tool, another
state, and another state of mind…

***

A dusting of freckles lay sprinkled across her tanned nose, and her
face was screwed up in a look of intense concentration, willing the
pliers not to slip…

There.

She stepped back to survey the results. She turned her head from side
to side, examining her nose ring that she had just pinched closed, her
uncontrollable curls fanning out in all directions. It was July in
South Carolina, and the heat hung on the air like a shroud… any
attempt to control her hair was simply an exercise in futility.

She sighed and smoothed her vintage apron over her cloth skirt.

Kind of a wild outfit, but what the hell. Fashion is negligible, I’m living amongst a damn circus, she thought wryly.

The thought made her breath catch in her throat for a moment.

I can’t believe I’m here, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m so lucky. I’m so
damn lucky…

***

“—Lucky.”

“Huh?”

“Spacing out already, nice. Try not to do that in your interview,” he kidded.

“Sorry,” she said, forcing a grin, “I was a million miles away for a
minute there.”

“I said, ‘You sure are lucky.’ I can’t believe you got an interview
in Chicago in a field you’re not experienced in,” he said, shaking his head. He clapped her on the shoulder. “Welcome to the working world.”

With a teasing grin and another shake of his head, he headed for the
garage, wire cutters and the twisted metal remnants of a gypsy
identity she knew and loved in hand.

“I just wish I knew what I was working toward,” she said to the empty
house and the warring factions of her mind.

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Gypsy Life: ¡Viva España!

Fiona Apple once sang, “But I’m good at being uncomfortable, so I can’t stop changing all the time.”

A few weeks ago, I decided to leave St. Louis, put in my two weeks, move out of my apartment overnight, couch surf through mover’s limbo with all my shit and Little Orange Cat (creativity abound in that name, I know…), drive home to Illinois, and it’s finally starting to hit me that I’m leaving for Spain TOMORROW.

Life has been so insane the past few weeks that I haven’t really had time to just sit down and even think about moving… again. I just moved to St. Louis this past August, and now I’m moving to Spain for three months with a rusty grasp of Spanish, no real thought of how I’m going to make money, and not knowing anyone but my sister.

Still, it’s the right move for me. It really is. Fiona hit the nail on the head, and I am a full-blown change addict. It didn’t help that to me, living in St. Louis was like being being at dinner with someone that you really WANTED to like, but couldn’t help noticing their little dealbreakers the whole damn date (“Jesus, how many times is this guy going to use the word ‘literally’ incorrectly…?”).

I tend to assign colors mentally to towns I’ve spent any real time in — maybe just because I would have loved to have been a painter in some other life. For example, South Carolina was green — everything was new, thriving, and just so alive. I remember my first night outside in Natalie’s backyard, barefoot in the dirt as music cut through the muggy air, fire blazing, people dancing, and I would swear that the air around me was vibrating, ripples of pure energy coursing through me. And it was smacked me in the face — that gratefulness of being exactly where you want to be and knowing that something incredible was just beginning. Something, some seed of a thought, some grain of an idea of what I might really want in my life was planted in me that trip, surrounded by that crazy circus.

Green.

St. Louis was gunmetal grey and brick red. Hard and toughened. People carried that hardness with them in a sense. I remember one time when picking up my friend Sierra downtown when she came into town from Columbia. I watched her run across the sidewalk, in a classic Sierra outfit (a hot pink jacket and pink boots), she sat down in my car and immediately said, “Wow, I wore the wrong thing for St. Louis.”

St. Louis just isn’t pink.

I’m not knocking St. Louis. From what I saw in my brief time there, St. Louis is filled with really good people who work hard and stay grounded. I appreciate that there are people pushing to expand the art scene on several different fronts. I met some people there that have had such a profound impact on me and how I’m moving forward in my life… I Don’t Know if they realize how much they’ve changed me.

But the longer I lived there, I noticed that while St. Louis is a city with lots of potential, but many people I met described landing here by chance and getting stuck in a sense. A lot of people affectionately joked with me that St. Louis was a bit of a black hole for travelers. It’s uncomplicated to live there — good people, cheap expenses, etc. It’s an easy city that is hard to leave.

It was easy for me to live there, but not good for me. I didn’t have to work hard, so I didn’t. I didn’t want to make decisions about my life, so I didn’t. I look back on my time in St. Louis and have regrets.

I feel like I have learned all that I can from living in places and waiting for life to happen to me. When I go to Spain, I’m going to study flamenco. I’m going to figure out how to live there comfortably. I’m going to absorb the culture and every experience I can squeeze out of this. I’m going to surrender to the fact that while I might hate structure and loathe routine, it really could advance me.

I cannot wait to go to Spain and refocus on what I love to do, my passion, my art… dance. I cannot wait to feel alive again, I’ve been hibernating far too long and I’m ready to thrive.

Here goes…

5 AM, St. Louis

Ah, insomnia, we’re starting to become good friends, aren’t we?

I still can’t really believe it that I’ve been here in St. Louis a month already. So much of my mind is still in South Carolina, living on a couch in the Circus House…

I have started this blog post countless times over the past few weeks, but somehow I haven’t been able to write down what I’ve been experiencing in any sort of meaningful way. Let’s just start at the beginning:

A lot has changed. My couch surfing has landed me in the abode of Ms. Lola van Ella while I attempt to figure out life here in St. Louis. I’m working at a diner in town. I’ve begun teaching classes at the Dance Co-Op on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 8 PM (my website will soon be updated with all the pertinent information). I got to take an incredibly rejuvenating Level I workshop with Suhaila Salimpour, one of my biggest dance influences and mentors. I got to work with a gifted local photographer, Tim Barker. I’ve had a breast make a surprise guest appearance at a gig, and performed at another (difficult) gig that taught me a hard lesson about making sure the places that book me understand what exactly it is I do.

But all of my experiences, positive and negative, just seem to keep circling back around to the same questions:

Who do I want to be, and what do I want?

It’s quite a jolting question when you start to realize that the universe is offering you a rare chance to redefine several important factors in how your day-to-day life is structured. All of the sudden, I need to think about what part of the city I want to live in. I need to figure out how I will make my income. I need to figure out what to fill the hours of my days with in an unfamiliar city with few friends. I need to figure out what direction to take my dancing with — what image to market, what material to teach.

I’m not trying to whine — it’s definitely an exciting prospect. I’m truly looking forward to living on my own for the first time EVER, and I’m glad to be in a new city. But I’m starting to realize that I am procrastinating (are you surprised?) really identifying what I want out of a city, dance… and life in general.

All my life I have wrestled with unrealistic expectations. When I was in Columbia, I dreamed of getting the hell out, getting to a new city, and starting a new life for myself. Now that I’m here, I realize that I was an idiot for thinking I would come to a new city and things would be different without a clear idea of what I wanted my life to be like. You have to know what you want before you can devise a plan to pursue it.

I think a lot of my indecision centers around jobs. I have been dreading getting a full-time job because I’m not ready to give up my focus on dance. I worry that a full-time job will prevent me from touring with the Happy and Humpy Traveling Medicine show. I worry it will hurt my dance education. When I think about the highlights on 2010 so far, all have centered around me traveling to study with some of the best instructors I’ve ever worked with. I really don’t want to give that up for a desk job. But I also want to be able to support myself, particularly now that I’m on my own.

And unfortunately this all-too-familiar indecision has begun to push my life back in a direction I don’t want to go in. I’ve become indecisive about everything, from what I should eat to what I should teach in class. When I start to think about a way to be financially stable while pursuing dancing the way I want to (traveling, taking lots of classes, starting on bigger projects here), the indecision and procrastination pull on either side of me to prevent me from committing to anything. The fear of “not getting it right” has begun to dominate my life.

I think we’re all familiar with how crappy day-to-day life feels when fear is your primary motivator. I truly believe what Amy Sigil says, that “Fate favors the risky.” With dance, I have taken a lot of risks — some which have panned out, others that were epic flops; all were totally worth it– but in my life off-stage it’s proven to be more difficult. I incredibly frustrated that my fears of failure have jolted me into this long, unsettled period, especially since this was the type of path I was hoping to avoid by leaving Columbia.

All of this stupid angst and fear has had a definite impact on my dancing. I feel unmotivated to dance at all, and when I do, it is flat and emotionless.

As I mentioned earlier in this post, I had a really hard time writing this post. Part of me feels like a failure that I do not have these life questions figured out. Part of me reads this post and thinks, “No one wants to hear you whine.” Part of me thinks that it’s important that I’m honest when I blog and post about my experiences, positive and negative. Part of me is ashamed to admit that I have struggled so much with feeling unmotivated.

But writing has always served as a way for me to articulate everything that has been floating around in my brain and begin to make sense of it. I have noticed that many times once I get to this point of blogging, I often come out the other side with a better sense of what I need to do and where I need to go from there.

So, I’m putting this out into the universe:

I am going to find an apartment, where I can live on my own, have a dance space, have my cat back. I am going to find job(s) that allow me the freedom to travel but allow me to support myself. I am going to take more dance classes and continue to teach. I am going to make a goddamn try at this whole “living in St. Louis” thing. No more bullshit, no more excuses. I will take a risk, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll try another.

Fate does favor the risky, as I’m told.

Welcome to the Circus…

The heat clung to me like a second skin as I sat in the darkness, feeling the drums and hearing the music swell louder and louder. In the small space illuminated by painter’s lights, a fairy with flaming metal wings entered slyly, carrying a small bowl of fire. Fire eaters solemnly filed in to receive the flame, and then there was an eruption of movement as dancers came whirling in, like leaves scattering over a forest floor.

Welcome to the circus, Megan.

I came to the Alternacirque the week of their monthly show at the Art Bar in Columbia, SC. 8 months out of the year, hoopers, fire performers, belly dancers, musicians, magicians, and freestyle dancers gather to put on a free show in the parking lot of a local bar. What started four years ago as a small show has grown to have audiences of several hundred people, and the community — including the Art Commission here and other local dance companies — has sat up and taken notice. The first night I was here, I got to sit in on a rehearsal in Natalie’s backyard, and it truly is something to see. I can’t wait for Friday’s show.

Coming to South Carolina has been extraordinarily good for me. I’m eating better, dancing every day, getting inspired by the talented artists that filter through the Circus House (where I’m staying). This whole trip is kind of a detox for me — I’m mourning the losses of my old life and identifying what I want to bring with me into the future. I’m cutting out bad habits, and I’m establishing new practices.

Seeing Natalie organize costumes, makeup, hair, musicians, dancers, staging, and keeping practices on track has been helpful to see, since someday I hope to establish my own artistic projects in a similar vein.

Right now I’m making no big life decisions, just sitting back and letting the circus life sweep me away. It feels pretty damn awesome.

On the Road Again…

Within about five minutes, I knew tonight would be my last night in Columbia.

“Hi, Megan…” I heard my mom’s voice on my voicemail. “Well, ” (pause) “Granpa Joe died, he died this afternoon.  They’re thinking that the funeral will be this Friday.”

My Grandpa Joe. He was an odd guy. But a good odd — he sent me $2 bills and a Calvin and Hobbes book for birthdays, he told me that there was a law that allowed those over 40 years old to swear freely when I called him out when I was younger… he was a smart ass, but everyone liked that about him.

I love him, and I will miss him.

But as my good friend Steve pointed out, the good thing about knowing someone is about to die is that it gives people a chance to really find connection with their loved ones, say everything that needs to be said, and truly process everything. I’m so grateful for my family, and I’m looking forward to heading to Florida to celebrate his life — and ours.

I was planning on starting to move things to St. Louis this weekend, but it’s been pushed up a bit — I’m currently frantically packing in order to move everything but my furniture to St. Louis tomorrow.

Wednesday I leave for the funeral from St. Louis to Fort Myers, Florida, and I will stay through the weekend.

Instead of flying back to Missouri, however… I have decided I need to get out for awhile. I need to explore and train more and get refocused on my dance. More than that, though, I think I need to really put some thought about what I want in the next part of my life.

So I’m finally getting out of Columbia! … And guess where I’m going?

Columbia.

Well, Columbia, South Carolina. I’m truly running away to the circus this time — I will be staying with Natalie Brown (check out Alternacirque and Delirium Tribal) and Asharah and training with them. I’m really excited, both ladies are phenomenal dancers and pretty bad ass women in general.

How long will I stay there…? Who knows.

Then it’s back to St. Louis to figure out my life.

Columbia peeps: I need to get all my furniture and my car at some point, so I will be back. At that time, I want to have a soiree and party with all y’all, so get ready. I imagine I’ll be back in July sometime.

St. Louis Bound

I haven’t wanted to write for awhile.

Every time I sat down to write a blog post, I didn’t know how to put into words some of the changes that have been occuring in my life lately. I didn’t know how open to be, how personal to get… I can barely synthesize what’s going on in my brain, so forget trying to get it into words.

Simply put, I am moving to St. Louis as soon as I can find a job. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I think it’s time for me to try and pursue dance in an area where there are more opportunities for me.

I’ve been in a rut in Columbia. I’m not creating enough, I’m uninspired, and I haven’t been able to find a full-time job here. I’m through living in stagnancy. I’m ready for a new challenge and the growth it brings.

However, my anticipation for change lies cheek to cheek with another concept that is a fundamental part of my personality — procrastination as a result of a fear of the unknown. This will be the first time I move for ME, and not for another person. I lived in a small town my whole childhood, went to college in a smaller town to be at the same school as my sister, and I moved to Columbia to be with my boyfriend and dance with a group in Columbia.

The other big change in my life is that I recently ended a long-term relationship with a really wonderful person who I grew apart from. I wish him the best, I truly do. He changed my life for the better and was a constant source of support. Unfortunately, sometimes life pulls two people in different directions. We both owe it to ourselves to walk our own paths.

This morning has been job interview craziness… I’m sitting at a coffee shop between my second and third interviews. Wish me luck!

New Year’s Resolutions v. Old Year’s Reflections

I hate New Year’s resolutions. Every year I set three or four completely unreasonable expectations for myself (“I will never eat chocolate again”; “I’m going to go to the gym every day”; “…I suppose I could limit my Taco Bell visits to once every two days?”), and each year I last three days or so before I mess up and then say, “To hell with it!” (Cut to Megan, sitting depressed on her futon, chasing a Crunchwrap Supreme with an entire box of Fannie Mae).

Furthermore, resolutions have an inherently negative nature — “What’s wrong with you THIS year? What do you want to fix?” No, thanks. I have resolved to be done with negativity (sorry, couldn’t resist).

Goals are great, I’m not knocking that — I just feel like our culture takes an inherently positive thing — self-improvement — and interprets it all wrong. Besides resolutions seeming to always have a negative flavor to them, it always seems like there’s a lot of talk, and little action. And it makes sense why SO many resolutions fail and why so many people don’t act on their resolutions. Many resolutions go against months — and sometimes years — of habitual behavior to the contrary. Getting into a daily exercise routine, for example, after two years of limited activity is a DRASTIC departure from your old habits, and therefore can be very difficult.

Please don’t walk away with the idea that I am saying, “Don’t make resolutions, because you’re going to fail.” I’m saying that maybe the problem is in HOW we set New Year’s resolutions.

So I’m not making any New Year’s resolutions this year.

Instead, I’m going to do some Old Year’s reflections. Instead of resolutions, I am going to analyze 2009 in its entirety, see what I’ve learned, and see what I want to bring into 2010 and what should just stay with 2009.

Want to try? Here’s what I’m doing:

1) CREATE A YEAR IN REVIEW

I found it enormously helpful last year to write down, month by month, what happened in my year. Old calendars, datebooks, etc. are helpful in remembering. Besides being kind of fun — I tend to forget some things I’ve done — sometimes you can spot patterns when looking at your year as a whole. Here’s my 2009:

January: Working at the Columbia Tribune, one of my favorite jobs ever. Was a flamenco dancer in the MLK breakfast in town! Found out I got the job as the Bellydance Superstars merchandiser.

February/March: Touring the US with BDSS. Completely changed my life. Drove a Penske truck across California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, Maryland, Delware, Virginia, South Carolina, Florida, Tennessee, Utah, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, and Michigan. THEN I had to drive the truck from Detroit to L.A.

April: Flew to California to get Level II certified in the Suhaila format — also life-changing. It was physically and emotionally one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. Worked and auditioned for BDSS at Raqs LA.

May: Went to Japan and Canada with BDSS!

June: Worked Raqs America in Washington, D.C. for BDSS… decided I needed to be focusing on training, and decided to leave the merchandise post. It was a hard decision — the BDSS gang is an awesome bunch. Asharah workshop!

July: A lotta sitting around.

August: Got second place in the Pro Tribal Soloist category at the MAQAM bellydance competiton in Chicago. Started Odissi lessons!

September: Eco Art Fest in Columbia, started teaching classes in Jefferson City.

October: Burlesque show in Kirksville with Lola van Ella, St. Louis Burlesque fest, AMY SIGIL WORKSHOP! GREAT month.

November: Artica fundraiser show — Love and Loss in One Act. Went to Florida to visit my grandpa. Planned trip for January to study with AMY SIGIL!

December: Training, training, training, creating, training… preparing for Amy Sigil and 2010.

2) ANALYZE

I still remember it — in December 2008, I became convinced that “2009 was going to be my year” — that something amazing would happen. And looking back… I had a heck of a year. A lot of positive growth, a lot of travel, a lot of new opportunities and new acquaintances.

I learned some hard lessons. I’ve learned living life on the road and touring is an experience that you can try to explain to someone, but it’s hard to understand how simultaneously awesome and difficult it is unless you’ve done it yourself. I learned that people sometimes represent someone they’re not. I’ve learned how it feels to be physically and emotionally drained — and how powerful you feel when you overcome it. I’ve learned that the more I connect with the universe and the more good energy I put out, the more good the universe sends my way. I’ve learned that experiences aren’t “good” or “bad”, necessarily — they are an opportunity to grow and learn. I’ve learned that the best judge of my self-worth is myself.

3) TAKE WHAT YOU’VE LEARNED… AND APPLY IT.

• I’ve learned that I really love traveling. I would definitely tour again, if given the opportunity. I hope in 2010 I get more opportunities to do so — and I should pursue those opportunities.
• Through all of my adventures in 2009, I have had some really important people in my life to help me through it. I’ve learned I am very empathetic, and I absorb people’s energies. Therefore, in 2010, I want to invest time in my relationships that manifest good energy — people that care about me and people that I would do anything for. I’m done with toxic people. I’m so fortunate to have so many caring, wonderful people in my life, and I want to give my time and energy to them.
• The highlights of my 2009 are mostly centered around (surprise, surprise) dancing. I feel happiest when I am dancing. I want to earn more opportunities to pursue what I love in 2010 by training hard, nourishing my body to feel good and healthy, and by constantly focusing on creating positive energy.

4) GIVE THANKS FOR WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN.

I am so fortunate to get to do what I love so frequently. I’m grateful that I have had so many people help me through tough times — thank you. I’m grateful I got to travel and see a larger scope of the world. I’m grateful that I have been released from commitments that could have prevented me from pursuing my future. I’m grateful for a wonderful, supportive family. I’m grateful for Amy Sigil, Asharah, and everyone in BDSS, since they have changed the way I am pursuing belly dance. I’m grateful that people are reading my blog 🙂

Happy almost New Year, everyone. 2010 is going to be one hell of a year.

I’m Engaged.

Everyone, I have a very important announcement to make. I’ve been in a relationship for four years now, and something really special has happened to me that I want to share with you. After a long courtship, I finally have decided to make the most important commitment one can make.

I’M ENGAGED!!!

…What? Oh, no, my boyfriend didn’t pop the question yet. I realized the other day that I am engaged to belly dancing. Sound ridiculous? Probably. The other night I found myself thinking, “All right, belly dance, you win. You make me want to work hard and be a better person. I am completely and utterly addicted to how I feel when I’m with you, and I can’t live without you. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and build a future with you.”

Then it hit me: “…wait. Did I just propose to belly dancing?”

Nothing makes you question your sanity more than realizing that you just mentally proposed to something intangible. Believe me, I understand if you think I’m crazy. Belly dance can’t snuggle with you, give you a foot rub after work, help you raise a family. But for me, belly dance makes me feel good and special every day, it keeps me sane, it helps me create goals, it gives my life passion and purpose… if that’s not a relationship I could make a serious commitment to, than I don’t know what is.

So I’m going with this, as crazy as it seems. Starting now, I am committing to this dance and I am committing to making my dreams a reality, 100%. I will dedicate as much time as I can to my training. I am relishing the thought of working my ass off to get what I want. I am so excited to continue developing my voice and style as an artist, and I am craving opportunities so I can really start working on getting my career started.

Now I just need a wedding planner.

There aren’t a whole lot of books dedicated to the subject of breaking into the world of belly dance. A lot of famous dancers I have talked to have readily admitted to me that a whole lotta luck and serendipity factored into their success. My friend Nichelle Lawrence once told me, “I never dreamed of being who I am. I just… kinda fumbled into myself and my identity.”

But I do think certain things can help you create opportunities, build connections, and help you do what you love to do. I am reminded again of some of the best advice I have ever received, courtesy of Petite Jamilla: “Be your own business.” And because of my new commitment to this dance, I am putting a lot of faith and work into the business side of my art. But I’m slowly learning there is more to it than just the business side of things — along with being a shrewd businesswoman, I need to work on the product — me. Think about this if you are married, engaged, or in a relationship with someone who you could see marrying — how much has that person changed you for the better? I feel that belly dance has changed me for the better, and now I need to work on being the best person and artist I can be as I take this huge next step.

Recently, I have been fortunate enough to talk to several amazing, incredible, hard-working artist who have been where I am now and have figured it out — they are doing what they love and they are successful at it. The more I talk to these women — Nichelle Lawrence, a freelance photographer; Kandice Grossman, a belly dance instructor, choreographer, director and producer; Suzanne Vansickle, a costume designer and manufacturer, the more I observe several key things that these women are doing to further their success.

Ladies and gents, I give you… a work in progress. It’s not a foolproof plan to “make it,” but it’s what I’ve gleaned in my short time trying to navigate this crazy, sparkly, world of belly dance.

1) Figure out what you want to say. Nichelle (who I am considering paying to be my life coach; the woman is just so wise) asked me this one day: “What makes a great belly dancer? What is it about their dancing that intrigues you the most and is what YOU want to watch?” I thought about it, and I tried to explain to her what I connect to the most while watching a dance. Nichelle looked at me and said calmly, “You want to know how to find your voice? Start there.” That element is where I’m starting from in my discovery to add something unique and special to this art form that is ME.

2) Start believing in what you can offer people. I had a lot of hesitation putting myself out there because I harbored insecurities that people would not like what I had to offer. Then I realized something: There is going to be someone (maybe many people) who absolutely do not like what I want to create. And that’s ok, as long as I’m happy with what I am offering. Have confidence in the product you are selling — you.

3) Put yourself out there, again and again and again and again. Asharah stressed to me the importance of an internet presence, and she’s right. Get a website. Get quality videos of yourself on Youtube. Get visible. Get people interested in learning more about YOU. Perform as much as you can at as many events as you can. Study as much as you can with as many dancers as you can (although I personally think having a primary instructor helps tremendously, someone whose skill far exceeds your own and who inspires you at least weekly). You’re marketing yourself — show people that you have something to offer.

4) Collaborate with others. Talk to other artists. I can’t even begin to stress how much I have learned simply by asking people about their artistic journey. Not all of these people were belly dancers. The most important thing is simply to listen. Open yourself to ideas. Never stop learning, processing, or analyzing.

5) Put out the vibes you want for yourself. Try to do one selfless thing a day, or once a week. If someone helps you out, do something for them. Don’t it because you feel obligated, or because there is some score to balance out. Do it because it’s making you a better person and because if we all can help out one another, we can go farther than we would fighting to break into this world on our own. Help out other artists that you admire. Barter. That energy, that good vibe, what you put out there is what people are going to want to give back to you. Work hard, stay humble, never forget those that helped you along the way. Without them, you would be less of the person and artist that you are today.

6) Write. I am someone who ordinarily is not inclined to keep a journal. But once I started dancing, I found out it was essential. If you’re reading this right now and you’re thinking about skipping this idea, I urge you to reconsider — just try it for a little while. Write down your ideas, journal when can’t get that little voice out of your head that’s telling you can’t do it, journal not only about dance but about you as a person — your hopes, dreams, insecurities, frustrations. I feel like if we want to be artists, we need to figure out what we want to say. But if you don’t even know who you are, how can possibly hope to find the means to express it? That’s the true beauty of art — an artist finds a depiction of herself or of her reality and expresses that in a way that resonates with people.

7) If you really want it, commit to it. I am working part-time right now. I have minimal health insurance that my parents are graciously helping out with. There have been more times than I care to admit where I’ve had less than $10 to my name. Awhile back, all I could think was, “I need to focus on making money right now. I need to figure out what to do. I don’t have time to devote to dance, that just has to go on the back burner right now.” My heart wasn’t buying it, though. I was miserable, even though I was trying to make these sacrifices in order to be happy. Now, I realize, I need to adapt to what I have. I need to find loopholes. I need to budget my money and live frugally. I can’t lose sight of what I want for myself just because times are tough, now is just a time where I need to work harder. I’m committing to dance, even though now it’s more difficult than ever. And you know what? Every since making that commitment a few days ago, I have felt better than I have in six months.

8) Fight for your happiness. A week or so ago was one of those $10-in-my -bank-account days. I was sitting at home, wondering why I felt so hopeless and depressed. I was feeling like no matter what I did, no matter how much good I was doing for others and despite my hard work, the universe was just not throwing me a bone. It’s so easy to give in to that despair and give up. But then I got mad. I thought to myself,  “Goddamn it, I am working hard. I am living a good life. I’m a good person. I deserve to be happy, and I am going to fight for my happiness. I refuse to let the circumstances and the sadness overwhelm me.” It’s proving to be a really important life motto for me. I think this is really important as an artist to maintain. As artists, we’re vulnerable. We’re exposing our innermost selves for the world to see and judge. The losses, let-downs and frustrations, as a result, can be incredibly crippling. But fight for it, because you deserve it.

I’m committed. It’s going to be difficult at times, I know that. But I’m a romantic — I’m willing to sacrifice for something that I truly love with all my heart.