A day like no other...

Working with narrative and movement, exercising the vocal cords, reaching in to find and untangle those complex,  beautiful and difficult words waiting to be born. Where do they come from? Where are they going? Can I find a pattern with my words and my body? Can I weave between these frayed edges, drawing my own pathway through a puzzle with disparate beginnings, indeterminate questions and gaps punctuated with silence. How I love those sweet and unnerving moments in movement! The confrontational places that ones body is invited into - the place where you cannot walk away from. Once upon a time I drew a simple line in my sketch book with the words, ‘today is like a day of no other’…. perhaps an obvious statement, but its sheer simplicity intrigues me each day I arise into my body. Surely today is really a day like no other! What happened today in my practice? I immersed myself in the ‘other’, the space between the familiar and the unfamiliar, the stretch in my body, the conflict and delicate poeticism between pushing, pulling, wrapping, unwrapping and clinging and pushing away. Always its comes back to finding the sweet mid point- the balance between extending and softening. Can I find strength in my body with a outer softness, a receptivity to what unfolds? Can I find balance between drive and rest? Often forfeiting the need to slow down to push myself to my physical edge, I drop deeply into a place of distance from my my path, from my creative impetus. Today was a day like no other…today I gently pulled back the reins, tweaking my awareness to deep listening. My body tells me its tired, its muscles are a little grumpy…what can my narrative tell me on a emotional level? Extending between left and right, rushing forwards and backwards, coming off centre I still feel largely in transition, longing for my tribe of dancers in California, missing my time on Lamma, re-adapting to finding my feet in the UK, keeping my focus on my creative projects, whilst filling the need to support myself.  To feel the emotions becomes an important part of the movement and healing process as it allows both objectivity with out letting an emotion ‘define’ one, and also allows for a patch of exploration to fully explore the feeling. Can I find a movement in my body, a stroke in my brush, a word on the page that ‘moves’ this feeling without losing sight of it? That allows for progression without regression? Lets see what unfolds these next few weeks!

There is a space underneath this...

Deep thanks to all you lovely peeps who avidly follow this blog, for your enthusiasm and positivity. Watch this space for upcoming creative projects currently in the working!

Extending into Space

My soul feels so nourished being back in Scotland - my eyes have the space to stretch out, my body feels lighter with the comfort and knowledge that I can extend without fear of being crushed, consumed by others in close proximity. The mystheticism of Scotland often captures me unaware as I find myself dancing  in distant memories from childhood, from a sense of freedom at being able to run around in nature unconfined. My lungs feel more open, my breath sinks deeper into the abdomen, away from the heavy pollution of Hong Kong. Returning to England was a decision my body made for me months ago in Canada, a decision that my ego fought against furiously, not quite knowing why, understanding why, but with the trust that I had to follow this leap of faith. I feel more rested and peaceful being on home soil, as if my legs needed this connection with my biological home, and yet why is this need so poignant? To be close to family and friends, to confront old shadows that were abandoned in hope of disintegrating with distance? A sense of not knowing fragments from my own personal history - my family roots? Or does it extend deeper than that - is it some kind of primeval need in the body, to return to the centre, the seed of existence - the mothers womb?  My own movement studies into the body provide signpost in this direction, working in close conjunction with the imaginable realm, abstract images of fetus’s, often painted with tenderness dance their way onto my page and a sense of retroversion encapsulates me. The theme of darkness and light - a fitting one with the arrival of the spring equinox, find their way into my own mythology, to the need of wading into the murky waters, the shadows and surrendering to those dark forces that are needed to help us grow and move into light. My time in Asia, albeit full of light and joy was a symbolic stepping into these dark forces that has shaped my past, my belief systems in so many different ways in my life. The trust in my body to guide me was my savor in  enabling me to surrender to that which was, to let go of people and places and allow myself to feel the light that exists deep underneath these shadows. Perhaps the need to return to my biological home has been a metaphorical conclusion of this journey through darkness and light - a stepping stone into this new space of clarity and indeed a wider, fresher, brighter space within myself and the knowledge that anything is possible!…