The first part of my summer was spent at a grueling 5 week summer intensive dance program in Carlisle, Pennsylvania where I learned an endless assortment of ways to make my body want to kill itself. Nevertheless, I got what I came for: rock hard calves and character built a mile high. I also got to reunite with one of my most treasured friends who I had not seen in a year which was great until we had to say goodbye when I cried like an idiot.
I spent a few evenings on the lawn of my dormitory teaching my roommate how to operate my camera. We had quite some fun with silhouette pictures.
This summer was filled with internal drama as opposed to previous summers where I was constantly at war with others whether over what air freshener to buy or basic human rights. I spent the whole 5 weeks killing myself trying to improve in my dancing and feeling like my efforts were fruitless. I didn't have breakthrough after breakthrough the way I had the previous summer and my self-doubt took its toll. Despite this, I believe the summer of doubt was necessary in my progression as an artist. I finally faced the state of my inner confidence and realized that my body's physical limitations are actually drastically less limiting than my mental ones. I had wonderful teachers whose words stuck to me like glue and convinced me for 90 minutes that I could do anything I dreamed of and still inspired me after the program. But sadly, I also had teachers who immediately threw me back into the funk I was in pre-inspiration. I've come to accept that not all teachers offer brilliance on a silver platter and what makes the good teachers so so good is equal parts wisdom and rarity. If I picture them sitting in the corner of my studio, I dance better.
And that's what I learned in part one of my summer away.
Love always--B
