I had an existential artist moment.
I had all these great insights into how I’m going to approach this new choreography I’m working on in a really multi-layered approach — journaling, researching old videos to drill moves and combinations I thought were interesting, recording multiple improvisational videos to the same song to start establishing patterns, designing my practice to train for this specific piece.
Then I went through my practice video log.
When I started really critically studying my videos, I saw myself in a completely different light than I have in the past. I have always been horribly self-critical and have never fully liked any video of myself I have made, but this was different. I could not get past the fact that… I look amateurish. I’m not graceful. My arms are a wreck. What’s most important, almost all my pieces are completely emotionally vacant. God, after getting so excited about this new piece, I suffered the most severe bout of ego-death I’ve ever experienced.
For the first time EVER in my life, I questioned whether I was meant to be a dancer. What purpose does it serve?
I had a moment where I thought, “Maybe I’m never going to get to the point where I can create something significant, no matter how hard I try.”
I know, this sounds completely overdramatic. But you know what, it WAS pretty darn dramatic to me. I felt rattled in a sense that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. The phrase “shaken to the core” had new meaning.
I don’t know what it means.
I hope it means that I am about to move forward significantly as an artist. I think it means that if I want to create something really meaningful, I need to start choreographing pieces as opposed to just improvising. I need to work harder. I can’t give up.
This week is devoted to relearning how I approach dance. It’s time for a complete overhaul. Stay tuned.
Starving Artistry 