people keep asking me: "so how does it feel?"
friends that i haven't spoken to in a while, or friends that aren't really in the art/theatre/dance world-- they all get it that actually *booking* a theatre space is a big commitment and a first for me in new york city. and, invariably, like the good friends they are, they congratulate me and ask how i'm feeling about it, and how it's going.
depending on the moment, i may break out in a big grin, or i may just look terrified. (or maybe i just make a terrifying grin? probably.)
as soon - AS SOON - as i signed the contract and left Theatre80, it started. it started saying, "ugh, the gershwin idea is old news now." "you're not really that good at making dances." "this isn't a very strong project." ... which spirals frighteningly into "well if you cancel now maybe you can get some of that down payment back..."
HOLD UP. what's that? something is starting to talk me out of what i've been working on for almost two years? yes. WHO?! oh, just what steven pressfield calls Resistance. and she's good. she gets tougher and tougher - the self-doubt gets more and more convincing - the closer we get to the point of creation. in it's way, it makes sense that at a big point of commitment (signing a contract, writing a down payment check), she rears her ugly head. so i'm doing my best, living through this scary part, laughing at how cunning my own inner resistance is, and just going ahead. writing grants, getting dancers committed to the project, developing a rehearsal schedule, and putting it all out there for the blog/social media world to see.
consider this my personal declaration that i am scared of failure. and i'm going to create something powerful anyway.
"when you are lazy, your art is lazy;
when you hold back, it holds back;
when you hesitate, it stands there staring, hands in its pockets.
but when you commit, it comes on like blazes."
- david bayles
