Category: About

Dancing Semaphore

A late afternoon session at my sewing machine, buried in piles of netting, finishing the costume for my current dance project Semaphore:

I’m excited to be presenting this new wee solo Semaphore tonight and tomorrow, at a coffee house presentation put on by students of The School of Toronto Dance Theatre (my Alma mater). I’m friends with Megumi Kokuba, one of the current graduating students there, and we decided it would be fun to work on something together for her last student coffee house. We settled on Semaphore Flag systems — in both English and Japanese — as an inspiration point.We choreographed together, Megumi is performing and I’ve made the costume and set, comprised of giant paper airplanes (it was fun learning how to fold them online. I was never a big on making paper airplanes as a kid, so I had to look ’em up, now I’m hooked).

Megumi models the costume in studio B (I have spent many hours of my life in this room, taking class, rehearsing, teaching class, choreographing, sigh):

The work literally uses Semaphore Flag positions to spell out the words “remember” and “solitaire” in English and Japanese. We created choreography using the flag symbols as a starting point, tracing their lines through the space. We also walked the points used in semaphore flagging across the floor. Megumi and I worked fast (we spent just 3 hours in the studio together, yikes!) due to mad schedules for both of us and I’m really pleased with the result. The music we used is by Buck 65, a fantastic Canadian artist. Both his music and lyrics in the song Paper Airplane speak to me of longing and reaching across space and time. A beautiful, lilting song, it felt like the right fit for this dance.

Check out a 3 minute clip of Semaphore I’ve compiled on vimeo. It was filmed during the tech run, first time under lights and with the “living set” of 3 dancers that walk with paper airplanes across the space and around the dancer throughout the work.

Rudi and Gene (3 1/2 years and 6 months respectively) both came to some of our rehearsals and also sat through the technical and dress rehearsals — they are superstars with focus and patience that belie their years and months. They actually enjoyed sitting in the dark theatre (for the most part, Rudi was a bit freaked by the super-dark between dances and the cheering from the fellow performers attending rehearsal) and watching the magic unfold under the theatrical lighting. Rudi’s quiet little wonderings were so charming, “Where’s the music?” (a legit question, oh contemporary dance in silence!), and “I see ghost shadows!” (oh massive shadows thrown by theatre lights!). As a mom it’s so rewarding to still be able to practice my craft and involve my wee kids in what I do. I love that they won’t remember the first time they attended a theatre event, it’s just part of their lives.

Well, as we say in dance before the show, merde (instead of break a leg, that’s for the theatre folk) and may your weekend be gorgeous.

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Click here for details on the show Coffee House: Dark Roast.

An Earthy Day

I am starting today with 2 things I love: soup making and contemporary dance. Food from the ground and feet on the ground — with consciousness and artistic purpose. A lovely way to enter the week.

I’ve got a pile of beautiful organic root veg (here they are enjoying the March sunshine!) begging to be made into soup. I shall oblige …

… and a deadline to have a wee solo completed for a performance this weekend. I’m working on a dance for Megumi Kokuba, a graduating student from The School of Toronto Dance Theatre‘s Professional Training Program. We’re collaborating on this solo for her, using both English and Japanese Flag Semaphore as a starting point for choreography. A dress is in the making and there are 3 huge paper airplanes as the set. I hope to share some video of the work later this week. In the meantime, feet-at-the-ready for final choreographic touches, which may or may not get settled on in the kitchen while soup making, just sayin’:

As per my post last Monday, I’ve spent the past week working on being conscious and present in the task at hand. Embracing or finding the simplicity of a job, a moment in time. And while soup-making and dance-making may seem disparate partners and dividers of attention, I think the cooking will provide some contemplation space for choreographic editing since the dance really is done, I just need to consider finishing touches, the editing of the movement and structure. And I think it’s working, this being present business; I seem to be a happier, more satisfied, less yell-y/cranky, exhausted and sad version of myself both as a momma and simply(!) as a being human. Happy week to all!

A pocket full of thoughts …

I love/need to mull things over, weigh thoughts and ideas thoroughly (sometimes that means ad nauseum, I admit it!), check ’em out in different lights, size ‘er up. I don’t have a lot of time for that these days, but I grab my moments, my in-betweens — in bed as I fade out, nursing on the couch, walking to the park, making soup, riding up the stretch of highway between us and Nana&Papa’s house for weekend visits.

Which brings me to:

As mentioned in last Wednesday’s post, I’ve been meditating on simplicity. For me, right now, I think simplifying means not planning too much in a day, a week, a month, something I was practicing when Gene was under 3 months, but since then I’ve shifted into planning/hoping to do too much and often end the day frazzled, thinking I didn’t do enough, frustrated by the unstarted or unfinished projects staring at me with longing eyes. I set myself up for failure every time I plan too much in a day because my natural response to having too many things going is to panic and run for cover, figurative and literal. I stop thinking clearly or being able to prioritize and I just sit on the couch hoping the things I wanted to accomplish will get some of that Disney-princess-story-magic where they do themselves and have a catchy soundtrack and a subliminal message to boot!

So last week I started consciously planning to not plan a whole lot. I do the basics of my stay-at-home-mom day (which is a full-time job, I know I know, I grant that to others in my position but have a hard time feeling legitimate in it myself) and then I choose one thing beyond that that might, just might, get done. And funnily enough, I’ve actually been more effective since it seems this approach has alleviated the flight response. We’ll see if I can keep it up.

I’m consciously working at, reminding myself, to be present in the moment I’m in. It feels a little cringy and trite to write that down. And I am fully aware it’s not original. But it’s exactly what I need to know and practice right now. Actually Being Where I Am — in heart, head, body.

All my life I’ve been a planner, an anticipator. I think and yes, definitely worry, about the mythic “down-the-road” days … the big one for me right now is what happens when the mat leave is up in August? I just don’t know. And the lack of security in the not knowing freaks me out. But then I sabotage the lovely, suspended, necessary time that I am so privileged and deeply glad to have courtesy of this mat leave, particularly because I know so many women that don’t even have the option to have this year of partially-paid mothering. And when I am fully present, I experience such deep satisfaction, in everything really.

Someone wise recently reminded me that as a trained dancer, I’m practiced at being acutely present in the physical moment I’m in as a mover. I am working on translating some of that knowledge from studio to living room.

My 3-year-old is in a creative dance class on Saturday mornings. He loves it, skips down the street, has a buzzing, jumping energy in anticipation. He’s in class with two little friends of his whose moms and I have grown into wonderful friends through our kids. The class is only 45 minutes but we go for coffee during that time and honestly, Saturday coffee with these ladies has been a fantastic anchor point in my quiet maternity-leave life. In a period without a lot of adult-only interaction, I revel in those minutes of catch-up, giggling and gossiping and trading stories. We’ve decided to keep it up once classes are out, because somehow knowing that that visit is set gives the week a marker, a turning point of shared-experience. I must say, I like having a regular ladies-visit in my calendar. I highly recommend.

Last week I got a joyful email on a sunny morning from a lovely friend with the following link she was inspired by. And I think it’s worth sharing. Thanks to the writer Amelia Olson,

Click for the whole thing.

This bit feel particularly relevant, not directly but something that I often sense, and subsequently temper myself because of:
“As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed.  Too sensitive.  Too mushy.  Too wishy washy. Blah blah.  Don’t let someone steal your tenderness.  Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart.  Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things.”

I’m going to keep feeling deeply. Cheers.

Quilting Challenge: February

My 2012 Quilting Challenge (to myself) continues today with February’s result. It’s a little apple! I’m pleased with the simplicity of it, the detached leaf.

Simple.

I’m working on simple in lots of places — sewing, walls, dancing, writing, art, teaching, choreographing, mothering, being. Simply being where I am. I tend towards complicated, tangled. I need to unravel, unfold, see more space, feel more space, give and have more space. Perhaps that’s cryptic, but it’s what I’ve got for today. More on that soon I imagine.

And here the little apple sits beside January’s leaf:

Rearview Fridays: rug hooking

On Fridays I dig up an old project, craft or choreography or costume, and feature it here. However I am not the star of today’s Rearview Friday. My Nana is. But my humble contribution is pictured, circa 1989. Hers is just a “hare” younger than I am because she made it for my toddler self. Read on …

I love rug hooking. And I don’t mean that awful, fluffy polyester latch hooking stuff from the 80s, though that has it’s place I’m sure, I mean traditional hooked rugs. Practical art made from wool on a burlap backing. My grandmother spent her retired years rug hooking and I knew implicitly that she loved it. As I write this post I realize I have no idea how she found rug hooking [note to self: check with auntie about that]. She and her group of “hooker” friends (my 6 year old self did not get the joke) made the most lovely, textured pieces. I think they even had lacquered, handmade wood name badges that said “happy hookers” on them. I remember watching her cut wool on her cutting tool, dust motes swirling, she leaning back and looking down her nose through bifocals then leaning back into her work. And I would hang about near her work table fingering the stripes of dyed wool, loving the texture, the variation in the dye and contrast in colours.

My Nana taught me how to hook rugs when I was a tween. She was both smart and kind enough to have me work on coloured burlap so that I didn’t have to fill in the background. The hoop still has my name written on it in her handwriting.

Thinking about Nana and her rugs has me waxing nostalgic. I feel a deep yearning for her and Edmonton, my home city of big sky and crisp cold. Thinking about this post also made me curious, prompted me to look for Ontario hookers — and it seems there’s a lot of action up North (that sounds so wrong, I’ll give you a moment to collect yourself, but I really am taking burlap and wool here ladies and gents) and I am sure that at some point, even if it takes me umpteen years, I’ll find my way into this art. It’s a meeting of painting and craft. I won’t be able to resist. But for now I should really stay on sewing and parenting task, plenty at hand. So many things to do with my hands and so little time.

My Nana bunnies:

I am so happy that I carry a piece by Nan. She made this one as a chair back cushion and my tiny self did sit against this lovely rug on my tiny rocking chair. As you can see, she wielded wool like paint. She also used a very fine grade or cut of wool that yielded finely detailed rugs. Her initials sit in the bottom right, RK, Ruth Kendal. My father’s mother. For her I am thankful in ways impossible to articulate in words, but I know her art and vivaciousness permeate my life and work inextricably. Happy, inspired Friday folks!

Monday delight

Monday morning and we’ve started right with giant pancakes – Rudi elected to have his formed into a train. I sported Saskatoon Berry syrup. Amazing. And I grated 2 apples into the pancake batter so he’s also eaten some fruit already, unbeknownst to his lovely, picky self.

Next thing that happened is that my new Fluevogs — *ahem*  NEW FLUEVOGS — (new Fluevogs deserve caps) arrived in the mail! Oh delight! I am going to be a bridesmaid this summer (awesome) and that obviously called for new Fluevogs (also awesome). Oh, and they were on serious sale (top-it-off awesome). If you don’t know Vogs, you should. Canadian designer, so comfortable, last for ages, unique, I could go on … been wearing them since high school. I’ll share the joy:

Now I should tackle the work at hand … the fabric pile for the new quilt design awaits. Hopefully I’ll have it to share by Wednesday! Happy week folks.

And she begins …

Here I am, joining the  blogging world, sending my humble, ahem, brilliant (obviously!) musings and adventures into the ether. I’ve been excited, heartened and inspired by many blogs by other artists and women over the past few years and now have the impulse to add my own voice to the mix.

The plan (a.k.a. my challenge to myself) is to write 2 or 3 times per week so as to be consistent but not ruled by the blog. In particular I’ll be writing about my adventures as I create and launch my independent sewing business, formalizing and making professional something I’ve done for years as gifts friends and for the simple joy of it. I’m sure that my life and whatever’s in front of me will leak in as well and am excited to be starting this record.

I started 2012 with the delivery of my very own rubber stamps featuring my lovely logo (designed by my excellent friend Christa Couture — tangent: she’s not only a great designer, she’s also a fantastic musician!) that I’ll use for labeling my work. They were beautifully made in Canada by The Old Island Stamp Company.

If you’d like to read a little more about me, check out my bio.

I think that’ll do as a starting point, til next time!