getting uncomfortably uncomfortable

i'm working on this project.  it's one of those pieces of art that's about art.  i never thought i'd make one of those.  but here i am.  the thesis question is "what holds you back from making the kind of art you want to make?"

now, the more appropriate question might be "what doesn't hold you back," but i digress.  despite the news about struggling dance institutions, lack of public funding for dance, lack of time, lack of space, 99.9999% of what holds us back is us.  we all know that. and that's what i'm interested in.

so i've boldly set out creating a dance film (a medium i've never worked in before) to explore a creative-process narrative (subject matter i've never danced about before) with a sports-media-video-journalist (who i've never worked with before and has never filmed dance before) incorporating more improvisation and less rehearsal than i've ever worked with before.  all in the name of NEW ART. and PUSHING MYSELF.

and you know what?  i hate it.

in rehearsal today i felt confused, frustrated, unclear as a director, uncertain if i should be doing this project at all, unsure i can pull it off/do it justice, embarrassed, sorry for my dancers, and sluggish.  for the whole two hours.

pretty sure i can see the discomfort in my eyes even here.  it was that kind of a day.

i like to play the part of a high-minded artist.  it turns out, i feel a lot better when i'm engineering-school-prepared.  but i mean, that's not really a surprise.  and when i decided to try this very un-jaema creative process, throwing myself into things i don't know, i knew it was going to be uncomfortable. that was the point! and still, STILL, when discomfort creeps up during the artmaking, i freak out.  i knew this was coming, and somehow i expected the awareness to be enough to fight off the anxiety and allow me to create freely.  it doesn't work.

so here i am, slouched on my couch on a wednesday night, stressing about rehearsal in the morning and two filming sessions next week.  i see three options.

1. i cancel everything.

2. i get out a notebook and do what i've always done for every piece i create... write out everything that happens.  stage directions.  choreography notes.  music cues.  i go to rehearsal comfortable, prepared, and confident.

3. i show up to rehearsal tomorrow with an open mind, plow through the blegh in my mind, film a bunch of stuff next week, and hope for the best.

okay, so, we throw out number one, because it's totally lame.  now number two... is very tempting.  i know how that works.  i'm pretty good at that one.  but how do i create something completely different and completely new and completely uncontrolled if i do what i've always done?  alrighty, so number three.  that's a scary option, because it didn't work today at all.  and how smart is it to walk into rehearsal tomorrow with the same kind of preparation (lots of thought, not a lot of specifics) that i had today, knowing how it turned out?

i suppose my bigger question is: how useful is the discomfort i feel?  is the battle about letting go of control (which i consider positive for this project)?  or is it discomfort of ill-preparedness and therefore mediocrity?  am i so trapped in these questions that i'm not even creative anymore?  is this really even my project?  is it really even dance?

who knows.  i'm not sure.  for now, i commit to you, internet, to lean into the confusion and see how it goes.  fortunately, the only thing i am certain of happens to be my definition of an artist - i refuse option number one.  over and over again, i refuse it.

practice makes practice

tonight i had the pleasure of practicing at mala yoga (which, by the way, is an amazing yoga studio in cobble hill, if you're in brooklyn).  they had a little flyer advertising a "yoga camp," basically a little morning intensive for two weeks, and the tagline was "practice makes practice."  i love that.

one of the reasons i put myself on choreography regimens for new years is the idea that 30 consecutive days of doing something creates a habit (the benefit of habit being, of course, that you don't have to TRY so dang hard anymore).  i want the creative process, and specifically for me the creation of movement, to be a habitual thing that just kind of pours out of me every day.  shocker - i haven't made it yet.  BUT, the more i do it, the easier it gets.

what i love about "practice makes practice" has two parts.  first, the idea that practicing creates more of itself is nifty.  like how smiling makes one feel happy, and happy people smile.  that's a pretty inspiring concept when applied to creativity.  you aren't going to "use it up;" rather, you use it and use it and there's just more of it.  (so the one or two good ideas i've had, those aren't the last two i'll ever have!  YES! sounds obvious when i type it out like that, but hey it gets scary up there in my mind sometimes and these things aren't so obvious.) similarly, if you love more, you aren't going to run out of love, you're just gonna keep loving and its going to keep coming back to you.  actually, if we take that a step farther, i think that's a pretty profound measure for things of value in life.  does "using" or "practicing" something create more of that something?  creativity, smiles, love, thoughtful yoga practice... yes.  money, gummy bears, positive reviews of my creative work... not so much.

the second part i love about it is the distinction between "practice makes practice" and what it's playing off of, "practice makes perfect."  fashion is never finished.  you're never done working on a successful relationship.  creation is never done.  it's about the process.  thank goodness, because turning out quality work, or the best work of my life, or constantly "improving" my craft can keep me up at night.

what's empowering about all of this is that we can create our own habits.  we can break the old ones, create new ones, and break those new ones if they're not working.  we can intentionally put the stuff we want in our lives until we don't have to focus on it so much, and then we can let those habits continue while we focus on intentionally adding something else.  sweet.