The Eve

Here we are, on the fence between two years and two decades. I have this satisfying image in my head of sitting on top of a flight of stairs, looking down at the ten steps below me as if each one was one year, and the whole flight the first decade of the 21st century. Turning around to look above me, the flights go on for so long they disappear into the fog. But sitting here now, I can easily see all that's below me (us) now, water under the bridge.

You can make lists upon lists of events, people, sounds, tragedies, glories, miracles that happen in a year or decade gone by. Throughout it all, that ghost is with us, taking it all in, growing with each year to encompass all that we've been through and help us move forward.

At moments like this one, that ghost helps us look back and remember: hold those memories close.

Together, we move forward into 2011. We are three artists coming together to create, to push each other and therefore ourselves. I can't think of a more inspiring, hopeful and fitting way to step into the second decade of the 21st century.

today i survived and managed to create at least as much as i reacted and kept a small piece of sanity protected while fear threatened to undo all that i cared about. to create is to work with what is, no matter what it seems to mean, and trust where it will all lead. a tall order in-deed.

Fertile Ground

During today's rehearsal, I brought up the idea of having the composer and poet run out of the room in the middle of the performance. Gavin immediately didn't like it and said so.

This is when you know a young collaboration is working--when artists begin to trust each other enough to quickly disagree.

We are still getting to know each other and how we work--what we have in common and how we come from different universes.

We may all respect each others skills and talents, but we can't be afraid to push back a little when somebody's idea doesn't feel right.

Too much reverence kills the collaboration. Trust between collaborators allows for the group to take greater chances and dig deeper until they hit fertile ground.

Three artists approach each other, eye each other's work while keeping time with their own, intermingle, and disperse.

Today, we went in circles but ended up in a different place than where we began. Interesting how that can happen.

Today I Witnessed

Today I witnessed a reflection of Gavin and a reflecting Gavin. I am still unsettled by what she expressed when she walked silently across the cold floor.

Still more unsettling, the stifling gymnastics of competitive high-school percussion ensembles I sat through, stinging my eyes and ears--an overhead projection.

How can we possibly know what to do now when the past is so fraught with hazy half truths and the future is so awkwardly unknowable?

Sensible words become poetry. Random gestures become dance. Noise becomes music.

Not once, but again and again.

This is not desire anymore, it's need.

What happens when the air stirs the branches, the wings fly around the room, and the world turns to parts? What made us the happiest?

We are turning to each other to find out.

Come see what Gavin, David, and Joshua are discovering.

https://www.hulahub.com/event?id=123135