Several years ago, I choreographed a piece to White Heart's Desert Rose, arguably one of their biggest hits.
The song didn't 'take' for me, at first. It was 'too slow' for my high-octane brain, and there were so many other good danceable White Heart songs available to choreograph to.
Then I moved to the desert.
The desert is, quite literally, the place where dreams go to die. You are surrounded by nothing but brown, all year long. The grass never turns green. The trees... what trees? Those aren't a thing. Rain? Yeah, right. Cloud cover? Never met her. Cool weather? HAHAHAHAHAHA yeah that only happens in fairytales.
The desert is also home to the most formidable naysayer I have ever encountered. The church, the college professors, my extended family and multiple visits from the literal Angel Of Death combined could not do what this woman did: stop me from creating.
She stopped me from writing, from having opinions, from dancing, from choreographing, from talking, from thinking, from living.
She dug me a grave and kicked me into it, then forcibly held me her hands on my throat till I lost consciousness. I have been trapped in that grave for five years. And I'm tired of wasting the breath of my one precious life being silenced by somebody who, by her own admission, knows nothing about me. For the past few months, I have been excavating the ruins of my life, trying to find the faith and courage that was once my sole focus. I'm starting to find the jagged shards and piece them together, like a cosmic jigsaw puzzle. If I can solve it, I'll find my soul again.
For my return back to the stage and the screen, I want to make two dance films: Desert Rose and Hope.
Hope has seen a test audience, who seemed to enjoy it. What's more, that means it's already memorised. My idea for that video is pretty simple... probably just a studio video, no fancy sets or costumes.
Desert Rose, however, is a lot more complicated.
I want to film it in the desert that tried to strangle me and God's purpose for me. I have deliberately curated a bright costume to stand out against the scat brown. Because like it or not, that's what I do. That's what I have always done. I do not and will not fit in. I do not and will not hamstring myself to impress somebody else's imaginary social circle.
Desert Rose has been 'in production' (read: sidelined by my fear of her violent, vindictive oppression) since the summer of 2022. That's over three years now. Every single year, when the weather finally cools enough to even consider being outdoors for any length of time, I look at all my plans for Desert Rose. I think about what it means and how much I want to dance again. I think about how long it's been since I did anything close to fulfilling my dream.
Yesterday I was watching a YouTube video about the importance of backing yourself. Most of the points the presenter made were very similar to things I said on this very blog, years ago, that this woman forced me to stop believing. One of the points was 'compare the consequences of doing the thing with the consequences of not doing the thing.'
I went to my oft-viewed Desert Rose planning document and wrote the following:
'What happens if I DON’T do this?
You will regret it. You already are. You will have no self-respect. You will be disappointed in yourself for not making a way, not trying harder... That $45 you spent on that pink bodysuit will be a waste. This will become just another brick on the road away from your dream. You will never have more time than you do now. 18-year-old you would be angry and disappointed to find out about the fearful pansy you’ve become. She would be so angry that you didn’t fulfill her dream. That you didn’t push through, didn’t follow God, that you have become what she hated and swore she’d never be. You will have crushed her dreams — the only thing she had to live for for so long. You only live once.
If you don’t do this, then none of her pain was worth it.'
I owe it to teen Kate to get back up, to put on the gloves, to train until I'm untouchable again.
I am about to face what I hope is the final boss: the two-headed hydra of the desert environment and the violent, manipulative woman who tried to bury me alive.
I will win. And I will win on their turf.
