It's been about a week since I had my final performance of "The Fourth Clause/the final love letter." And, it's a mixed bag of emotions over here.
It's nice knowing that it's over, and it's nice knowing that I will continue to work on this solo. It was a journey for me to step back create a piece about something so real for me, and true to who I am. I let a lot of me on the stage both at dress rehearsal and our final showing.
It was interesting to me during that time though. When I performed on Thursday (at dress rehearsal), I felt sad. I felt empathetic for what I had done; for running away from someone when they needed me. I felt guilty and wanted to just break down and walk off stage. The piece came from a different place inside of me than ever before. It came from a place of regret and sorrow. I, myself, felt a little broken and as if I had abandoned myself as well as him. When I performed on Friday, I just felt mad. I felt upset with him for making me do this, and pulling me into this world of sorrow; and I was mad at myself for letting myself get too deep too fast and not stopping it when I wanted to. All of my dancing came from a deep, dark place inside of me.
When I performed at dress rehearsal my energy and breath were both heavy but heavy in a sense of craving more, and gasping almost. On Friday, when I performed it was closer to this idea of being angry and wanted to throw something against a wall. Maybe him actually.
It's nice knowing that it's over, and it's nice knowing that I will continue to work on this solo. It was a journey for me to step back create a piece about something so real for me, and true to who I am. I let a lot of me on the stage both at dress rehearsal and our final showing.
It was interesting to me during that time though. When I performed on Thursday (at dress rehearsal), I felt sad. I felt empathetic for what I had done; for running away from someone when they needed me. I felt guilty and wanted to just break down and walk off stage. The piece came from a different place inside of me than ever before. It came from a place of regret and sorrow. I, myself, felt a little broken and as if I had abandoned myself as well as him. When I performed on Friday, I just felt mad. I felt upset with him for making me do this, and pulling me into this world of sorrow; and I was mad at myself for letting myself get too deep too fast and not stopping it when I wanted to. All of my dancing came from a deep, dark place inside of me.
When I performed at dress rehearsal my energy and breath were both heavy but heavy in a sense of craving more, and gasping almost. On Friday, when I performed it was closer to this idea of being angry and wanted to throw something against a wall. Maybe him actually.