Crossroads

I don't know how to preamble this post.

 

I've been thinking lately about officially giving up dance. Possibly both dance and choreography.

 

I tell myself it's a time thing. While I like my job, it still takes away from my creative endeavours. I anticipate staying with this company for a long time (with construction and fast food, I always knew those were stopgaps and not a career). But I'm not fully convinced that's the real reason.

 

Maybe it's fear. Even though my two most recent performances were very well received, the memory of having an entire cast and assistant choreographer turn against me no matter how hard I tried to accommodate their self-professed 'lack of ability' (which was really a lack of commitment and/or self-confidence) still burns deep into my brain.

 

I know I don't really like making the videos. Shooting practice footage is fun, but I feel the need to make 'real' dance videos, with visual themes and costumes and stuff. I don't even mind editing, but I hate trying to scout viable locations and trying to motivate myself to practice enough and trying to put together a costume that isn't either stupid expensive or the same as literally every other dance video ever.

 

And I've 'locked' myself into making a dance video that's supposed to premiere in May.

 

I have the dance memorised and relatively clean (other than the ending -- which is probably also a contributing factor for the resistance I'm encountering). I love this song and I've been wanting to do a video to it since the song was released. I've already test-driven it in front of a live audience and heard nothing but positive feedback. There is absolutely no reason for me NOT to do this.

 

Am I just letting the fear and the bad experiences win, or am I finally being rational about my time and energy for once in my life? Is the distance in my soul a call from God or a siren song from Satan?

 

Despite all the pain and discouragement I've gone through in my career, this is the first time I have legitimately, peaceably, rationally considered quitting. (I had decided to quit performing once before, in 2019, but that was mostly for attention/as a way of self-harm. It was not, by any possible stretch, a rational decision.) I'm really not sure what to make of this. Even when dancing was difficult due to health, lack of motivation, busy schedule, emotional trauma... I never considered quitting, not truly. I still saw the dancers in my head. I still danced to music when doing housework. I still do.

 

What I loved about it was the feeling of flying. The air rushing between my fingers, my muscles firing, the elation of 'solving' a difficult passage and being able to perform it automatically. Performing in front of people or cameras was cool, but those weren't my driving force. I just loved the act of dancing. I love the way my body and mind felt when I danced. It cleared my head like nothing else. Maybe this is the same high people get from meditating?

 

As far as I know, I still love the act of dancing. The alphabet superset I did for Nachmo this year was a lot of fun. I've lost relatively little from the extended pandemic/apartment life drought, and what I had lost seemed to come back with little difficulty. I came out of Nachmo with one full piece that I really love, and some great starts to quite a few others.

 

And yet... I'm still sitting here, wondering if I should officially walk away.

 

It wouldn't be hard, really. I stopped posting the rehearsal videos years ago, when my in-laws banned me from posting on social media. As far as most people are aware, I've already stopped. If we're perfectly honest, the only person acting under the delusion that I'm still actively choreographing (let alone actually dancing) is me.

 

Would life be simpler without dance? Absolutely. Without a doubt. No question.

 

I would have free time. The imposter syndrome would have far less fodder. There would be less paper cluttering the house and annoying my husband (I find it easier to choreograph longhand). It would be so much simpler to just stop even thinking of myself as a choreographer and focus on my day job, or marriage, or housework, or entertaining, or writing.

But twelve years ago, I was on this very blog saying that I felt called to walk this path, no matter how difficult or lonely it got. I believed it then -- in many ways I still do believe that. I believed God had called me to dance, to choreograph, to somehow bring hope to people through it.

I don't think I've done that. If anything, I'm farther away from that now than I was when I started.

Is the work done? Is my work done? Is it time to pass the torch? If so, to whom? Both my sisters have also stopped dancing. M is dead. Most of my surviving dance friends have already moved on to 'real life.'

And if my work is not done, than what work is it, and why can't I see the way forward?

 

And if I can't answer those, there's always the question I would have asked twelve years ago on this very blog -- which option gives God more glory?

 

As usual, I don't know. I never know. I'm always paralysed by fear and uncertainty and indecision and it characterizes me as a person and the way I live my life. 

2026 Goal Update

We're two months into 2026 already. Time to check if I've even started on any of my goals.

 

Financial: I did get a little bit of Christmas money. It has not been invested, however it has made it as far as the 'we forget this money exists' savings account (which is better than usual). There have been several opportunities to spend it, but so far I have stayed strong. I'm not sure it's enough to actually invest. I haven't set up the autotransfer yet because my unemployment benefits didn't kick in until literally last week, and the plan was to schedule the autotransfer for the days that I'll be receiving the payments. I applied for a job opportunity that someone mentioned to me that I'm actually really excited about and would be a great side hustle (and then I could dump most or even all of that income into savings/investments), but I haven't heard anything back yet. That makes me nervous.

 

Dance: The Nachmo alphabet project went well overall. I have gotten very little feedback from the hand-picked group that I emailed, which is disappointing. But I did get my 50th YouTube subscriber! I guess it's not a lot by most people's standards, but considering how little I actually advertise my YouTube channel (and by that I mean I literally never mention it at all), that's not bad.

In February, I switched to working on actually memorising the dance I want to film in the spring as well as developing another longer show (similar to Sottovoce). I'm already one piece deep into the longer show (already memorised and everything!), and I'm intentionally taking a lot of time to really slow down the dance I'm planning to film in the spring and nail down the exact footwork and dynamics. This piece has the potential to be incredible, but it will take a ton of work to get there. While it is possible to shoot from the hip on this piece (that's exactly what I did when I performed it live last year), familiarity will make it really shine.

I'm still planning the Project Board, however the corkboard in the size I want is over $45. This is a significant amount of money considering we lived on $50 total (for gas, groceries, meds, etc) for the entire past two months. For now, I'm testing out smaller-scale versions in journals with post-it notes and colourful pens. I have also made a schedule for the videos I want to create in 2026. I have written down dates to start memorising, filming, editing, AND uploading (not just an 'upload' date). Hopefully having multiple milestone deadlines will help the ADHD spend some sustained amount of time on it rather than trying to cram the ENTIRE thing into two days and then inevitably getting angry when it's decidedly sub-par. (That being said, I have put myself in a position where that's exactly what I'm doing for my next YouTube post.)

 

Kyrie: This is actually the area where I've made the most progress. That one-sentence-minimum has been MAGIC for this thing. I finished the 'date' scene that I'd been stuck on for two years, and the next day I did over half of the following scene. I have, like, actual momentum for the first time since I did the first rewrite in 2022.

 

The WIP pile is still much larger than I had hoped it would be at this point. I only just finished the Christmas gifts at the beginning of February. The sewing projects are on an indefinite hiatus again as my sewing machine has broken in a way that renders it completely useless. It will cost over $120 just to diagnose the issue. So it's on ice until money grows on trees.

Sleep: I spent January marking down, with colour-coded pens, what time I 'go to bed' (with my pile of music and books and other assorted crap) and what time I actually turn off the light and go to sleep. The 'go to bed' time hovers anywhere from 12:15 to 1:30. The 'go to actual sleep' time is consistently after 2:45am. I think it's been before 2:45 ONE time in the entire month of January. I was very close to despairing over this goal. I honestly didn't think it's attainable in any universe, and it's been made very clear to me that the goal is not just 'better/less bad,' the goal is ABSOLUTE PERFECTION. I don't even know where or how to start with this.
In February, my goal was to at least brush my teeth before 1:30am. Brushing my teeth seems to be the sticking point that prevents my brain's programming from jumping to the 'initiate actually going to bed' sequence. It actually sort of worked, I managed the goal 2-3 times most weeks, and probably 2-3 times outside of that I was less than half an hour late. This is progress. For March, I want to walk back the time to 1:00am, and I'm much more worried about that.

Community: can't invite people over if we don't have money for ingredients to feed them... I'm perfectly okay living on soup and sandwiches for weeks on end, however I feel that guests should get something with a little more thought put into it. Since our financial situation had us living on rice and whatever was in the freezer, we have not invited any guests over other than my sister.

That being said, I did make some connections at the local church (yes, I'm going to church even after everything that's happened over the past decade or so), and will be attending a Bible study on Tuesday and see how that goes.

Something I've been trying is picking one major month-long project to focus on, with two other main projects to touch on daily. January's project was the Nachmo alphabet project (with the secondary ones being Kyrie and one of the crochet WIPs). For February I chose to focus on a writing opportunity with an early March deadline as my major project for the month, with Kyrie as a co-focus (I work on both during my writing session). The secondary projects are usually dance/choreography related, and so far the third has been continued work on the WIP pile.
The project for March is kind of two-fold: the writing opportunity will be the main one until the deadline at the beginning of next week, and I might shift to a dance-related primary goal after that.

One Month Of Vacation

Today marks one month since the day we drove away from our decrepit old apartment in the desert and did not come back.

 

I drove past it a few days ago. There were no Christmas lights on the balcony, for the first time in five years... I have always made sure to put up at least one strand of Christmas lights. And they are up... just not at the blue apartment.

 

It still feels like we're on vacation in a beautiful little guest house, with our Christmas tree and my husband's streaming setup and my grandma's rocking chair and my husband's mead-making station and all my plants on their stand. It still feels like one day we'll wake up and we'll have to leave and go back 'home' to the desert apartment with the spiders and the mice and the four-storey hike one-way to the laundry room and the cinderblock walls with no storage that pressed in around us.

I cried when we left... I was shocked at that. While there were memories in that apartment, most of them were bad ones... ones of my husband so sick that he was quite a different person, one who screamed and threw things and allowed his relatives to dictate my life without standing up for me. Those are all memories that dominated that place and dominated our first three years of marriage, before we were finally able to diagnose and cut out a food allergen that was wrecking absolute havoc on his brain.

I am so grateful for this new place, for the storage space and the natural light and the general livability and lack of lead pipes and the quiet streets. We have heard one (1) vehicle the entire time we've lived here. At the old place we were both routinely woken at night (sometimes multiple times) by people street-racing in souped-up Fords at 3am. I sleep like the dead (I have had roommates consider calling 911 because I sleep so deeply) and even I was sleeping poorly.

I'm not sure whether I should treasure those troubled memories of early marriage or if I should be happy to turn my back on them. I don't want to forget how much better things are now. Both my husband and I are coughing less. We can drink the water straight out of the tap and it tastes delicious. We get curbside recycling pickup... there wasn't even a recycling depot in the town where we used to live (let alone pickup) until mere months before we moved. We have more of a social life already than we ever could have dreamed of in the old town. This is an upgrade in every way.

 

I am struggling to set up my dance studio. I have the flooring pieces (although I do want my larger one from my parents' house), and the room is almost cleaned up (it's been a disaster for most of the time we've lived here because it was one of the lower priorities for unpacking and organization). I'm struggling to want to. I don't know if the stress of moving (and work -- currently in the middle of a show that breaking ticket sales records for the theatre as well as launching ticket sales for next season) is zapping my motivation, or just thinking of all the times I've tried and failed to get dance going again since I've gotten married. I have an opportunity to teach in the new year, and I think I might take it... although last time I tried to teach choreography, I was raked over the coals for being 'unrealistic' and my co-worker actively sabotaged my work so I'm very nervous how it will go. I don't know if the flame of dance has died, necessarily, but it has certainly had a large amount of dirt shovelled onto it.

 

I also want to write again. NaNoWriMo 2023 was the last time I wrote anything longer than a blog post. I don't have any ideas, but I'm finding myself poking absentmindedly around for one. I mentioned wanting to write again to my husband the other day and for the first time in our entire marriage, he said something supportive instead of telling me how I'm wasting my time writing. It might be a while before I actually write something, but I'm open to an idea.

 

I don't know if I should post practice videos on Instagram again when I do start dancing. The world of social media changed significantly during the pandemic, right at the time my in-laws banned me from posting on it. It's an alien landscape to me now, all ads and fake positivity, both of which I have always avoided. There's a definite allure now to the thought of not posting a single thing about dance until I create my next major work... maybe during Nachmo? I do have the space for working out choreography now, so maybe I can do an honest-to-goodness Nachmo for once instead of just a thought experiment (I say that as if I didn't choreograph an entire one-woman show during Nachmo 2023 that got screened in their online festival and is now one of my highest-viewed videos on YouTube).

 

So far, both my husband and I are healthier and happier. I had hoped that this move would give us a place of peace where we can heal from the old wounds and grow into a life instead of just an existence.

 

So far... I think it just might be working. 

Gearing Up For A Boss Fight

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. 

25 Years

This fall is the 25th anniversary of me starting ballet classes. That means I've officially been performing, in some form or another, for 25 years.

 

Especially in dance, and especially for a 'late starter' like me (I was six), 25 years is fairly monumental. Dancers often age out in their mid to late 20s, so for me to still be going is a blessing I don't take lightly.

 

Don't get me wrong, I feel the years a bit. My back has never been the same since my work injury in 2023, and my ankles are often grumpy in the mornings. But I have a HUGE body of work to look back on, and for the time being, I'm still able to add to it.

I'm currently working on a (non-dance) project that chronicles every show I've ever performed in or choreographed for, and so far there are over seventy-five shows represented.

This has made me look very hard at my constant feeling that I don't know what I'm doing. Imposter syndrome has been a thread throughout my entire life. In everything -- school, chores, work, performing -- I have always felt like I wasn't meeting people's expectations of me. And sometimes this perception was enforced by instructors. My childhood ballet teacher literally told my parents that I would likely get a failing grade on an upcoming RAD exam (I passed that exam with my highest score ever, probably because my parents chose not to tell me what she had said till months afterwards). More recently, my college professors would tell me to my face at least once a week that I 'wasn't even trying.'

 

I've mentioned before how I literally made it my goal in my final year of college to practice myself to death, (and almost succeeded) and the reason I made that goal was to prove, once and for all, that I actually was trying (spoiler alert: as far as I know, that professor still doesn't believe I was trying despite me turning in practice logs of 60+ hours weekly, despite my frequent hospital visits because my body was disintegrating in the wake of the effort I was putting in, despite me being the only one from both of my graduating classes from that college still actively performing). Even though I'm no longer actively trying to practice myself to death, the same feeling of inadequacy that drove me to make such an unthinkable goal still lingers in the back of my mind every second of every day. Living in a tiny, artless, colourless, forgotten, literal-hole-in-the-ground desert town has only strengthened that feeling of falling behind... the lack of artistic opportunities make me feel like the few meagre skills I had managed to cobble together are atrophying.

 

But then I look at my list of shows for my project, and I see how I did four shows in 2024 alone, and have added six shows to my résumé in the first eight months of 2025. I'm getting opportunities. I know what I'm doing, and I know how to learn new things.

 

Maybe I'm not the lazy failure that my professors, the church, and my extended family made me out to be. I have 75+ shows and 25 years on a CV that say otherwise.

Stage Fright? ...Now?

I am two weeks away from tap dancing in an established music festival which could draw up to 450 people. I am high enough in the billing that my name actually appears on the poster that's plastered around town and circulating social media. As far as I know, nobody has tap danced in this festival before.

 

I am rather terrified.

 

This is strange for me. Even as a kid, I never got stage fright. As I waited backstage for my first ever dance recital performance, I waited for the nerves to show up, but they never did. Twenty-five years of performing and they never have.

 

I've tap danced in front of bigger crowds than this. But usually those performances are in darkened theatres with audiences who came fully expecting to see dance. An outdoor mostly-folk music festival that's marketed to a somewhat faith-based and generally older audience is NOT the same thing. When I submitted my proposal, I half-expected to be laughed out of their email inbox. Instead, they offered me a slot.

 

I have spent literal months agonising over which songs to use. They had to be pieces I either already knew or could memorise thoroughly enough to perform comfortably (which limited my options severely), and they had to be accessible for an audience that has almost certainly never seen tap dance before and is at this event for the acoustic guitar music.

The day before the performers were publicly announced, I finally settled on my final set list.

 

I'm starting them off simple, with some classic, upbeat Michael Card. Then we're moving to a similarly upbeat-sounding Steve Scott (but with more pensive lyrics). After that, there is the obligatory DA song, which will make absolutely no sense to anybody in the entire audience (but the tap dancing sounds cool), and then I'll hit them with the biggest risk -- an NF song. Like an honest-to-goodness rap song (*clutches pearls*). It's a huge risk, given the target audience, but my choreography for that song is absolutely show-stopping. I cannot follow that with anything else currently in my repertoire. I have to end off with this one.

 

I keep reminding myself that I have spent my entire adult life launching myself off artistic cliffs... and surviving. I keep reminding myself how so many people look at the barriers I've pushed back on and how they've called me courageous, with a blush of awe in their voices. I keep reminding myself of all the other faith-based audiences I've accosted with my art and how many of them actually loved what I did, even though it was (*gasp!*) dance. I remember how my most recent tap dance performance (in Newsies) brought down the house every single time.

I can do this. I have done this.

 

But I'm still terrified.

Creative Residency Update

I'm now two months into my God-sponsored creative residency.

 

I'm over three-quarters done my next major dance work (Smaller).

 

I've managed to get into four shows so far this year, with two more pending.

 

I've read three books so far.

 

I've started drawing in earnest, especially in these past few weeks.

 

I've done a lot of cross-stitching (on both my theatre jacket and my husband's).

 

I've noticed my memory is getting stronger. I'm in my biggest post-pandemic acting role yet, and... I wasn't even the last one off-book. It feels -- at this exact moment, anyway -- that maybe I can still have a viable theatre career despite everything. And maybe I don't have to destroy myself to do it... theatre is no longer my only reason for living. It's a huge part of keeping my mental health in shape and it still brings me much joy, but I don't have to be in four shows at a time to earn the privilege of breathing oxygen.

When there are no shows, I can spend time with my husband, and I can draw, and I can read. I also discovered the Sims, and that's the first computer game besides Spider Solitaire, Ultimate Yahtzee, and Minecraft that I'm both competent in and actually enjoy.

I have been very productive (see above), but I have also managed to learn to ACTUALLY relax, for possibly the very first time in my entire life. I'm a little worried about how re-integrating into the workforce next month will go (especially with my two biggest shows of the year so far ramping up around that same time), but these months off have been a much-needed break so far. I don't think I have properly let my mind, soul, and body rest since I was 18 years old. That was... well over a decade ago. I still wake up in the morning and have to consciously remind myself that I don't have any looming deadlines or responsibilities that day and that I can relax.

I do wish I was doing more creative things sometimes, but at the same time, I'm happy with what I've accomplished so far, and am happy to carry that momentum forward.

I'm also somehow less stressed about money? I did apply for (and receive) unemployment benefits from the government and what they're paying me is comparable to what I was making, but somehow we don't seem to run out of money as quickly. I don't know if I'm just less stressed in general which is carrying over to our finances or if we're being more responsible, or what, but I'm not going to argue. I'm just hoping that peace continues even after I go back to work.

 

The only thing I haven't done yet that I still want to establish before I go back to work is a dance studio. I want to start ACTUALLY moving my body again. I can feel it locking up, and I hate that feeling. But the only way out from stiffness is to get moving.

Nachmo, Day 31+

I wrapped up the official Nachmo 2025 event by finishing choreography for At Sunset. That's not the last song of the show, but that does mean I officially choreographed twelve out of the sixteen songs during Nachmo proper; 39 minutes' worth of choreography out of the 54 total for this show.

I also managed to secure a dance space, at least for now. Tap dancing there is forbidden unless I lug in my portable tap floor (which, at my height squared, might be a misnomer), but it is a dance space where I can move around to music without breaking things (whether myself or important objects). I can at least start learning the choreography in soft shoes for the muscle memory.

I've submitted this piece to a festival that takes place in June. I don't really expect them to accept it, but I had set a goal for 2025 to submit choreography to at least two festivals. I don't need to get in, I just need to submit them. So I'm now 50% done that goal for the year. I'm at least putting my name out there, and at the moment, that is all I need to do. The rest is in God's hands, and I am genuinely at peace with that. I have done my job and I can move forward with the next thing.

This is going to be another dance year, I think. Since getting married, I seem to spend every other year focusing a lot on writing (mostly working on Kyrie), and then the opposite years focusing on choreography things. Even-numbered years are writing years, apparently, and odd-numbered years are dance years. I am perfectly okay with that. Last year there was a lot more overlap because I had actual choreography gigs, but I did a lot of work on Kyrie in the first 7-8 months of 2024, and that was really where my heart was for a lot of the year. This year I have at least four dance films I want to make, some of them larger projects like this one.

Last week, the musical theatre production I was working on opened, which got a huge commitment (and a lot of drama/emotional stress) off of my plate. It looks good (as I knew it would), and I learned a LOT about managing expectations within the production team. I do have an assistant choreographer gig lined up for a different musical theatre show in a few months, so hopefully I can apply what I've learned.

I'm still here.

 

I'm still here, and I'm still doing this.

Nachmo, Day 15 - Unwanted And Fraudulent

Today basically marks the halfway point of Nachmo. I started today with 15 minutes of choreography completed -- 50% of my January goal of 30 minutes, and 27% of the total show. So we are on pace. I was hoping to come out of January ahead, but I suppose there is still time to do that.

 

I'm not sure how I feel about how the show is shaping up. In my quest to not be too fancy, I feel like I'm being overly repetitive. I'm almost sure this show is going to bore the audiences to tears, if they don't walk out mid-show. Tap dance requires striking such a fine balance between repetition and novelty, and I don't think I'm experienced enough to know where that line is. It's something I'm having to think about a lot in this show... after all, it's about memory loss. How can you show memory loss unless you have a firm, clearly established motif? Only once it's established can I break it effectively. But the more I repeat it, the more my brain screams at me about how lazy and unoriginal I am.

It doesn't help that one of my theatre choreography projects is suffering from some serious issues with the cast -- specifically, they don't like my choreography (even though the production team loves it), and will stop at absolutely nothing to sabotage the choreography, turn the directors against me, and disrespect me and my hard work.

Part of the rift boils down to me not having access to a studio space. And I'm also really feeling the lack of a studio space in this personal Nachmo project. I am currently laid off. I absolutely cannot afford $40 an hour (plus GST) just to noodle around on some pet project of mine -- although such noodling would definitely make said pet project stronger. What kind of choreographer doesn't have a studio? It's like meeting a painter with no canvases. Of course you're not going to take them seriously. And people are not taking me seriously. This is also the second time in two years that I have had the dancer(s) dislike my work so passionately that they actively ruined it just to avoid doing the thing I choreographed. I don't mind collaboration, but collaboration MUST go both ways, and both parties MUST consent. I did not consent in either case.

This is tearing my already-fragile self-confidence to shreds. I took this gig to get experience, and the only experience I'm getting is disrespect and pain. And I have nowhere to put this pain, as my husband refuses to let me vent (because it's 'too negative'... and yes, of course I married someone whose top complaint about me is my pet peeve phrase, because why wouldn't I sabotage myself like that?), and it's 'improper' to air it publicly, especially since I'm starting out and I need to establish a good name for myself.

Sometimes it really feels as if it's a crime to expect common decency.

 

Update: It looks like I'm going to be officially wrapping up Day 15 with 18 minutes of choreography completed. Did all of Cimarron while watching the hockey game and I did the dishes to boot.

Of course, somebody will still find some excuse to call me lazy.

Nachmo, Day 10 - Breathing And Reruns

Rehearsals have officially started for my next theatre show, and we're officially choreographing this show out of order.

Also, yesterday, I hit the 10-minute mark, as in ten total minutes of music choreographed. This is on pace for my stated goal of 30 minutes of choreography during the challenge proper. (The show is actually 54 minutes long, but I'm trying to be reasonable about my expectations for a 31-day challenge.) (Obviously I am going to try to exceed thirty minutes, but I will be happy with thirty if I don't manage any more than that.)

The mouse incident did have me lagging behind a bit, but yesterday I went on a tear and choreographed over two minutes' worth of material. Today so far I've done nearly another minute, but I know where I want to go from there so I should be able to knock out a bit more tonight. I might need the buffer for this weekend, as I have a meeting for a potential choreography gig, dinner with the in-laws, and a long rehearsal with my remote choreography gig.

As for the show itself, I choreographed the first two pieces, then skipped ahead due to overwhelm and did the sixth song. I'm now on the seventh song, and that will take us into the intermission.

Things are starting to take shape a bit -- I've got a couple of motifs, and am trying not to worry too much that I'm grossly overusing them. I'm trying very hard to let the piece breathe a little bit more and not try to stuff tricks and overly complex rhythm changes into EVERY SINGLE SUBDIVISION of the music. That can be impressive, but my pre-pandemic work especially suffers from too much razzle dazzle rather than too little. I hate how slow and boring modern dance is, so I overcompensate by overstuffing the music with a volley of sounds like gunshots on a battlefield. I am trying to recognise this when it happens and pull back on the reins, just a little tiny bit. (I'm hoping this will also 1. be easier on my memory once it's time to learn it, and 2. communicate the whole 'memory loss' theme a bit more.)

I'm really proud of how the playlist turned out. Honestly, I stuck in a couple of early-'90s smooth jazz songs I had, then searched 'melancholy vapourwave' on YouTube. I got exactly two videos as a result, but both videos supplied me with enough music to populate the rest of the playlist. As I listened to those YouTube mixes, I slotted each contender into a rough song order on my Notion tab for the show. When my final paycheque came in on the 30th, I bought the songs and stuck them in the playlist. I listened to the playlist exactly once through, on the 31st. I think I made two or three swaps, but the song order is actually largely the same as originally written down on the fly. The transitions are really smooth, and the 'vibe' throughout the whole show flows and shifts really well (other than the second song, as discussed in a previous Nachmo update). That's incredible, considering I heard some of these songs exactly twice in my entire life before the first of January. (Usually my playlists are full of songs that I have known for years, if not decades, that I am intimately familiar with and could sing to you, note-for-note, in their entirety.)

 

This music takes me back to a simpler time. And one of the biggest things about memory loss that surprised me was how much my brain simply played 'reruns' of memories of simpler times -- memories I hadn't even thought about in decades. My brain played reruns of every memory I ever had at my grandparents' old house in the country (I was not quite five years old when they moved into town), long-forgotten moments in the trailer we lived in when I was a child, and many hours of 2021-2023 slipped past me as my brain kept me sitting in the sunlight in my old pink bedroom (which by then no longer existed as mine, or as pink, for that matter). I couldn't really think any new thoughts -- there were none to think, I couldn't hold onto the concepts long enough to match them together into a new thought -- so my mind just dumped me into my past, as vivid as if I was still there. I completely understand now why old people talk so much about the old days -- as far as we're concerned, we are still living there, still in 1959 or 1982 or 1997, still living in those fleeting moments before everything changed, before wi-fi, before iPhones, before the pandemic, before all the loss, before freaking hipster music.

 

It was a comfort at times to live in the golden years again, but it also stopped me from engaging with the present, from making new works and new friends. I would wake up from driving my old Pontiac Montana down the highway in 2012 and find myself in a year I didn't know in a world I didn't recognise with people I'd never met.

Anyway, that's part of the experience I'm trying to capture in the show, especially as we move into the second act -- that disconnect between physical reality and our mind's reality, and how we don't even know -- or can't control -- that it's happening.

Nachmo, Day 2 - Joy

Yesterday I choreographed some 44 measures (in 4/4 time, so like 146 counts?). Didn't finish the song, but got just past halfway. And you what? I am absolutely happy with a minute and a half done on the first day, especially in tap dance (it's a lot easier to make ballet take up a lot of time than tap).

 

I can't even explain HOW FREAKING EXCITED I am for this year's choreography. I don't think I have ever been excited for Nachmo proper (M and I used to do a National Choreography Month -- which we dubbed NaChoreoMo -- in May every year, and I usually got way more hyped for that, as I was usually not dying of pneumonia at that time of year).

I'm excited about the show itself, for sure, but I'm also just really excited to be taking part in a creative challenge again. I haven't done one since NaNoWriMo 2023, and that one was really difficult/generally not-fun for a number of reasons.

I guess I forgot how much I love creative challenges, especially in a medium I'm currently 'feeling.' I was so high on life yesterday as I started this project that I wondered if that was what mania feels like. (No doubt my college professor would still have said I was being 'too sad.' But *beep* him. He has no emotional integrity, and you can't be a good artist without emotional integrity.)

 

Tonight I finished the first song of the show, and for the first time since 31 December 2022, I was able to actually add a song to my 'Completed Choreography' playlist (Sottovoce didn't use music, and I don't have the music for the two theatre shows I did in my iTunes library because both companies sent the music through ROCS ShowReady).

For trivia purposes... the playlist alone is now 130 songs, 8 hours and 10 minutes long. That's a lot of choreography, and that doesn't even include Sottovoce (24 minutes) and the theatre musicals. I could start the playlist when I arrive for my day job in the morning, and I still wouldn't reach the end of the playlist before it's time to clock out. That's so much music. That's so much choreography. I've accomplished so much, and I honestly feel like I'm just getting started.

I remember in February 2012 when I swore I would finish choreographing a dance to prove my mother wrong (about how I didn't want to choreograph 'bad enough'), and the elation I felt when I finally finished that piece (Sing Your Freedom) on 10 April. Look how far I've come. I just choreographed a tap dance in two days. At the time I choreographed Sing Your Freedom, I didn't even know how to tap dance.

I'm just so excited that I still get to do this. I'm so happy this is still a part of my life.

Choreography Month? Maybe?

Remember National Choreography Month? Yeah, that used to be a much bigger thing around here.

 

I didn't participate in 2024, despite using Nachmo 2023 to create Sottovoce. This year, I just didn't have any ideas. Even through the rest of this year, following Nachmo, I just... didn't have any ideas. Or at least, not anything that felt ready to actively develop. Lots of things were simmering on the back burner, but nothing was ready. Plus, there were also those two theatre musical productions I choreographed that kind of took my time and energy away from choreographing original works. It was a nice stopgap -- it kept the creative juices flowing and got me some in-studio, live experience (as well as some connections and filled some résumé slots), but I miss working with some of my favourite music instead of having the music all picked for me.

So here are a couple of contenders for Nachmo 2025.

1. Stop Time

This has been in the works for... probably since I finished Sottovoce. The music is basically set, and I have a story arc sketched out. It's mostly music from the 2008-2010 era, and the story is an alternative reality version of the car accident I was in in 2010 (so, the exact same car accident, but with a different outcome). In other words... I have literally everything in place for this except actual dance steps. Which, you know, is kind of the whole point of choreographing things.

 

2. Three Voices

This is a more recent idea that I got from watching oscilloscope videos of SID chip music on YouTube (as one does). The SID chip, for those who don't know, is the sound chip for the Commodore 64 computer, and it had three voices (instrument tracks), plus a noise track. With these three voices, some composers rose up to make incredible sounding music, mostly as video game soundtracks. And I want to have three tap dancers, each following one of the SID chip voices in the music.

I also want to try this with all three dances doing exactly the same choreography as above... but a capella. I think it would be a fun experiment to see how closely it resembles the actual song, especially over three percussion lines with only dynamics and shading to shape the sound.

3. Smaller

This is a project that I've been wanting to do since at least 2021, when my memory issues started. I've wanted to do a show about memory loss since then, but could never quite figure out how to structure it. For a long time I thought I might use the music of Gavin Luke for this, but I could never find the right fit. It felt too modern-y, and the world has enough modern dance in it.

I'm embarrassed to say it took months between me discovering vapourwave and me realising it's the perfect vehicle for a concept like this. This project is off the back burner again since I made that musical connection, and right now this is the one I'm hyperfocusing on.

So that's where my dance brain is at right now. I'm wanting to stretch out and make bigger projects. Since making Sottovoce, the one-song-and-done pieces feel too small. Don't get me wrong, I still plan on developing some of those into dance films, but I'm feeling a pull to creating 'shows,' things with... maybe not a plot, per se, but some level of narrative or dramatic arc.

Creative Residency Plans (Or: The 2025 Goalpost)

I've been laid off my day job.

 

Since my body (and my mental health) can't handle the rigours of fast food, I will not be going back, even temporarily.

My employers anticipate they will call me back in late March/early April. This gives me just over three months to sit at home and think about life, for the first time since I graduated college.

I have a couple of side hustle ideas. Neither of them will likely replace a full-time income, but if they work out, they'll at least slow the financial bleeding.

That said, this is now a glorious opportunity to work on all those creative projects I keep saying I don't have time for. I've been thinking about my goals for 2025, and I want to front-load the year either hitting those goals or at least getting myself well set up to hit them later in the year (keeping in mind that the summer months from Hell in this town are usually pretty uninspired and dormant seasons for me).

I am trying to frame this as an artistic residency sponsored by God. (And for the record, God may work through other people or through my own efforts.)

So without further ado, here are the goals for 2025!

DANCE

- At least attempt teaching two (or more) dance sessions.

- Make two dance videos this year.

I made this goal in 2023 and got it. Made the same goal in 2024 and didn't even manage one.

- Create a long-form dance work.

The plan is to use Nachmo/National Choreography Month for this (post with more details forthcoming).

- Submit to at least two dance/choreography festivals.

Notice I said 'submit,' not 'appear in.' While obviously I would love to actually present work, I can only control how many festivals I apply to, not how many actually present my work. I always consciously choose goals that I personally can control -- that way if they don't happen, it's on me, and I'm not driving myself crazy trying to check off two 'presentations,' when that facet is out of my control. I want to focus on doing the work and showing up every day and leaving everything I can't control to God. If I submit to two festivals, I will have done my due diligence, and whether or not my work is accepted, I will consider myself happy with the fact that I put my name out there.

- Secure a practice studio.

I have two potential options at the moment. I really just need to gather my courage and send a couple of emails.

WRITING

- Write some short stories/poetry to submit.

Could be tricky, as I have been in a writing dry spell for YEARS at this point.

- Finish the current Kyrie rewrite.

 

 

PERSONAL GROWTH

 

- Go for a walk (or some kind of exercise) at least three times a week.

This is a goal my husband and I have set together.

 

- Become more comfortable with using that Instant Pot that has been sitting on the shelf literally since our wedding.

This is another goal for both my husband and I.

- Read more.

I've got probably like 70 books in my Kobo wish list, and even a few that I've already purchased that I haven't read yet. I got a Kobo gift card for Christmas, so time to put it to use (as soon as I figure out which Michael Card book I want).

I did make this goal last year and read about six books, which is definitely more than I've read since graduating college.

- More Bible reading and prayer.

I made this goal last year as well and I managed to be fairly consistent until about August.

FINANCIAL

- Save at least $500 for a house.

- Get in contact with at least two people about selling my crocheted items.

- Run at least two dance class sessions.

- Promote my Ko-fi page on social media somewhere at least once a month.

- Apply to at least one job per week.

The hardest thing here will be finding jobs to apply to that 1. are within like 200 km of where I live, 2. pay enough money to cover gas for my vehicle at the bare minimum, 3. won't re-injure my back or my ankle, and 4. won't make me want to drive off a cliff.

It's still early in the pre-New Year week, so I might still tweak these. But this is at least my starting point, and since I'm already off work, I guess the creative residency starts now.

Film, Musicals, And Teaching -- A Performing Arts Update

I suppose I should do an update about the thing that drove me to start this blog in the first place -- the arts. Specifically, dance and writing.

 

Right now, I'm actually choreographing my second full musical. This one has a much larger cast (50 people), so I finally get to do big group numbers, like I've wanted to do ever since I first started making up dances in my head in the early 2000s.

 

There's a certain level of fear that comes with choreographing for a group that big in real life. You simply are not going to please everybody. In a group that large is that the gamut of dance experience/ability is quite wide. This is further complicated by the fact that the show is double-cast... and they double-cast all the best dancers. Which means I can't rely on them, as they will only be in half the shows.

 

My husband and I were also in a short film, which was shot this past month, with a tentative release date of next spring. This was our first time on a real film set. It is very different from live theatre, and it does move a lot slower, but the other cast and the crew were all great people, and we had a great time. It's surreal to actually put a real film credit on my résumé after 24 years of almost-exclusively live performance credits.

 

Both of us also just finished up a live show this week, and I have a readthrough on Monday.

I'm also still working in the theatre industry (on the front end), and that has helped my mental health and peace of mind SO much... knowing that my career and my dreams are no longer completely out of alignment. The only wrinkle is that once this theatre's Christmas show wraps, I will be laid off until the end of March, when the 2025 season starts up. I have a very part-time/casual substitute dance teaching gig, but it will be once a month, if that.

As for my own choreography, I have a film in mind that I want to make and I've already cast the dancer for it, but I just have to carve out some time to actually finish choreographing the piece. This is a piece very much made for the dancer and her abilities (that is to say... way too complicated for my own abilities). I am considering having this piece be the first to bear the name of the dance company that I want to start.

There are some teaching opportunities that I am thinking about pursuing, and I have gotten wind of a potential dance space where I could rehearse pieces (lots of things still need to fall into place for that to work out though).

And still I am afraid. I'm afraid that I'll mess it all up somehow. It was so much easier to create when I was the only one taking the fall if it was terrible. But if I start actually choreographing for other people and start making bigger works, then other people's names and reputations are also on the line. It's so easy to look at myself, at my neurodivergence, and think that I have nothing whatsoever to offer this neurotypical world, and how dare I rope other people into this who could have better chances with a neurotypical creative, who has all her emotions in order and a more consistent stream of motivation and is not constantly sidetracked by worrying about money (because for some dumb reason we have to eat food, which costs money, to survive).

A Quick Overview Of My Slow Return To Theatre

Last fall, I opened Instagram for the first time in probably a month, and saw an audition for a theatre about a forty-minute drive away that I didn't even remember following. I auditioned, I got a role, I had an amazing time.

 

Then a local dance teacher I've become friendly with gave me name to a local theatre production looking for a choreographer. They hired me, and I got to choreograph my first-ever full musical. It was a huge leap out of my comfort zone, but I felt so fulfilled and happy.

 

Then I got a job working behind the scenes in the theatre industry, which gave my body (and my bank account) the healing it so desperately needed. With my days in fast food (hopefully) behind me, I actually had enough energy to think, to daydream, to remember who I used to be before making a double double wrong felt like the end of the world.

 

Right before that job ended, I saw another theatre looking for a choreographer. This one was significantly farther away, but I had worked with them before and loved the environment and production they created. I emailed them and they were interested -- interested enough to agree to pay for my travel expenses.

At the same time, I had just interviewed for a similar behind-the-scenes day job at a different theatre. They work closely with the theatre I had been working at, and someone from there asked me to apply. I did, and got interviewed within three days.

Then I heard essentially nothing for a full week.

On the final day of the first job contract, I still officially had no job, despite the manager at the new theatre all but telling me they were going to hire me at the interview, despite two glowing references from people who worked at the new theatre, despite four good references from elsewhere.

The audition date for the potential choreography gig came and went. I had still not accepted, though I desperately wanted to. I was waiting for the job to be confirmed.

But finally, I could wait no longer. Rehearsals for the theatre show had already started, and I could not bear to leave them hanging. I emailed and told them I accepted the terms... despite not knowing where my next paycheque was coming from.

 

Less than an hour later, I finally received an email from the second theatre, offering me the job. I think that timing was not a coincidence.

 

Years ago, before college, before everyone died, before the world broke me, before the pandemic decimated live performance, I believed God had called me to dance, and I was determined to trust Him even when it didn't make sense.

 

And last Friday, for the first time since 2013, I think I did that.

Staring Down The Barrel Of The Unemployment Gun

Sorry I haven't posted much lately.

 

It's so odd... I look around and I can see the colours and I am happy, happier than I've been since before I graduated college. I can see the life around me, and I can see a faint, distant glow of opportunity.

 

But at the same time... I feel more than ever before the word 'failure' whispering through my mind. I follow through on so few of my grandiose plans. I'm too shy to collaborate with anybody in a meaningful way. I can't hold down a job for a significant amount of time without either my mental health or physical health (or both) collapsing is some spectacular way. I can't even keep up with the housework, let alone be present for my husband... and forget having time to do anything that makes me happy (but doesn't make me money).

For years now, my singular goal and only glimmer of hope was the possibility of working enough to save enough money to move to a place with more theatre opportunities. (Everyone says 'just make your own opportunities where you are!' but none of them have to deal with a brain that straight-up refuses to do anything unless there are boatloads of accolades at every second of the proceedings.) As we move solidly into our thirties, it is becoming apparent that we may never escape this (quite literal) hole in the ground. Despite my best efforts and my extreme mental and physical sacrifices, we may still wind up dying here in this open grave in this forgotten corner of the province.

My current work contract ends on 13 September and it has been made very clear that they have no other positions available (and I've seen enough of the inner workings of the organization to know that this is true). I am less than a month away from losing our only household income. And yet I can't bear the thought of going to work anymore. I want to retire. I am barely into my thirties and I want to retire. I'm just so spent. I have so little left to give anybody anymore, and I think the people who read my résumé can feel that somehow through the pages of dance and fast food and not much else.

I just want to lay down and close my eyes and never open them again. I don't have the mental or physical strength to gut my way through yet another 3-to-5-year job hunt. There are no more reserves. There are no more second winds. There is no more pushing through. I want to, but I can't. There quite literally is nothing left.

But I can't, because if I don't have an income, we will end up on the street.

Things I Did At Thirty

I never thought I'd make it to thirty. And then when I did get to my thirtieth birthday, I mostly felt washed-up and useless.

If you are coming up an thirty and are feeling the same way, let me tell you that your life is NOT over yet.

After my thirtieth birthday, I...

- Choreographed my first full musical production.

- Submitted a dance film to a major film festival.

- Finally made a sorely-needed career change.

- Made yet another dance film -- my favourite so far.

- Auditioned for four things -- the most since the pandemic, and impressive when you consider the real lack of art in my general area. Was offered a role for two of them.

- Got into a different show without an audition.

- Almost finished rewriting the first half of my novel for the second time.

- Got two crochet commissions.

- Started streaming.

- Started drawing (mostly pencil crayons).

- Injured my back to the point where I could not walk... and then rehabilitated it to the point where I can dance again.

- Acquired three more houseplants (that have survived. There was also a lavender tree that died a very dramatic death almost immediately after purchase).

More Of The Dream

I guess I can now officially announce that I am choreographing my first-ever theatre musical!

This is a HUGE step, one that I was starting to think I would never get to take. This is a major milestone on my journey to fulfilling my lifelong dream.

I've done a couple of 'assistant choreographer' things, but this is the first one that is both 1. all mine (not 'assistant' or 'guest'), and 2. not also performed by me, myself, and I.

I remember being seventeen and my parents, my extended family, and my church despairing when I told them I wanted to be a choreographer. How they told me it was a pipe dream and I would be wasting my life and should just get a 'real job' (side note: the real job is trying to kill me. It has destroyed my body more in three years than dance EVER did in all twenty years put together). How hard I had to fight to get anybody (including performing arts profs) to take me seriously. How everybody thought I was too stiff and graceless (and don't forget stubborn and stupid) to be a dancer and would never amount to anything in the performing arts.

Here I am, lead choreographer for a musical theatre production.

Are there other, bigger steps further down the path that I want to take? Absolutely. But this is an important one, and this is one that not one person was convinced I would ever take.

Years ago, back when I was only just beginning to admit to myself that I felt a calling to be a choreographer, I named my Instagram account 'dancer by grace.' I saw myself as a dancer who was called and equipped by God's grace. And there are many stories (many of which are on this very blog) of God's provision along the way. I have not paid out-of-pocket for tap shoes since my first-ever pair in 2012. God led people to gift me the money for all the shoes since then. That's just one example.

They say that the foolish things of the world would shame the wise. I guess I am one of those foolish things.

The Drafts Of Yester-Decade

Recently I went way back into my blog drafts folder... and I mean way back. I often scroll back about 2-3 years, but this time I went all the way back to the very beginning, to the first couple of posts I wrote back in 2010 and never published... probably for the first time since I wrote them.

There was a lot of little stories of my life written there that I had forgotten about. And in a way those made me sad. I knew I was a brighter, happier person then, but reading these posts has put into sharp contrast just how much Brittney's and my cousin's deaths destroyed who I used to be... and who I wanted to be.

I still miss that person.

The other day I contacted an old college friend who I haven't spoken to since 2020, when I was banned by my in-laws from anything I used to do or to be. I've been getting tired of being locked in the prison of my own mind, and I'm starting to rebel. I've volunteered for a local theatre. I'm starting to listen to music again. I'm starting to text people back. I'm starting to read the Bible and watch church services again.

I want my life back.

That may never happen. In September, I sustained a back injury at work, and seven months later, it is causing more issues than it did the week it first happened.

I have not yet brought up the subject of future dance endeavours with my physiotherapist. They know I have a history of dance, but they haven't asked for details, and I haven't mentioned it. I haven't needed to -- there are still no dance opportunities here anyway.

I am a different person now than I was fourteen years ago, but I'm not convinced it's a good thing. Perhaps I made some decisions that looked stupid -- but honestly, I made those decisions from a place of deep trust, and I never felt more free and 'whole' than I did back when I was living out on a limb every day of my life.

The freedom and joy in those old posts are palpable, even after sitting on a dusty server somewhere for well over a decade. I have not felt that since before my uncle left my aunt in January 2015. I was 21 years old.

All these tragedies I never asked for ate up all the best years of my life. My body was a well-oiled machine, and my mind was sharp and quick. But it was all wasted as I spent those years drowning in an endless ocean of grief. Now the grief has dulled, but both my body and my mind are no longer what they were. I wasted all of that potential, all those years... on something that wasn't even my fault and was completely beyond my control. It's so unfair. It's so unfair.

I'll never be able to get those years back.

Brain Dump/Goal Update

Really lacking motivation, as usual. I keep trying to power through it, but I'm running out of reasons why I should be powering through. I'm trying to tell myself it's because I've been sick all month (had COVID immediately after Christmas, and now have long COVID symptoms so yay for that), but I know that I wouldn't be any more motivated if I wasn't sick. How on earth did I ever manage to focus long enough to get a Bachelor's degree?

So I thought I'd write a blog post, since nothing else is working. Maybe blogging about my problems will help me find the solution.

There's a scriptwriting contest nearby that closes on the 30th, and I'm trying to write something for it, if only to get my name out there (but hey, getting it produced would be a nice bonus). I came up with a theme, but it's supposed to be a one-act play. I've never even watched a one-act play in all my years of theatre, let alone written one. When you Google what a one-act play consists of, you get WILDLY different answers. Like literal opposite-ends-of-the-spectrum answers. So I just picked one and am hoping it's right. Self-doubt is not a great companion to have in a situation like this. I have no real pretensions of winning but -- man, wouldn't it be great if I did? It would look amazing in my portfolio.

I wanted to be writing articles and getting to a point where I would write an article draft one day and then editing older ones the next and repeat. I haven't written (or edited) a single thing in at least two weeks, despite really only working half-days due to ALL of the health issues. I just have absolutely no motivation and absolutely no ideas. How do I think I'm going to do this full-time when this happens all the time? It's so frustrating. I'm the only person in this household able-bodied enough to work (or at least I was before my back injury in September), and that's slipping away from me fast. I have always wanted to be self-employed and here's my chance and I'm just... doing nothing. I'm so frustrated with myself. Everyone else can do this. Why can't I? I know, I know, it's the ADHD. But that makes it worse. This only reinforces the idea that I am a dysfunctional human being and I'm too broken to bother being fixed. It's hard to want to try when you just feel so broken and forgotten.

I've submitted two pieces -- one to a magazine, and one to a flash fiction publication -- and haven't heard anything back. The magazine said it could be 9-12 months (yes, months), and the flash fiction should be announced in the next week or two. I have a half-decent draft I wanted to send to an online culture publisher, but I can't seem to pull the trigger on it. I'm so terrified they'll think my idea is stupid.

I have a vague idea of what needs to happen in Kyrie to fix the very-bad pacing issues in Act I, but I haven't figured out how to actually implement that... it's just a vague idea in my head at this point, but to actually write it into scenes? Pffft. No clue. No idea what those scenes would look like.

I've done some fine art -- mostly pencil crayon, actually, and I've almost finished a piece in marker. Those are fun and they've turned out decent. My main problem here is lack of ideas. I usually think in words (writer) and feelings (dancer), not easily-drawable images. The images I do think of are WAY above my skill level and I know it would just be an exercise in frustration to even try.

I haven't even touched dance. Not one dance thing. I want to make a trailer for Sottovoce so I can submit it to MDFF, but I just... can't, somehow. I want to type up the choreography so far for my (hopefully) next tap dance film to see where I'm at and what's left to choreograph, but again, I just... can't. I'm afraid I'll struggle with memorizing as much as I did with Inside Of You -- it turned out all right, but I've GOT to stop going into filming knowing literally none of the choreography. It just makes shooting take a thousand times longer and it makes editing so much harder than it needs to be. I dread starting memorization. I really do. I think me not typing up this choreography is me trying to avoid starting memorization -- which, of course, will make the problem even worse because then I'll have less time to memorise. I know this. I've always known this. But I can't seem to just DO it.

The one goal I've actually made a good start on is the reading. I've finished one book and read another cover-to-cover last night (it was a beta read, actually, and it was SO good. Will probably be talking about that book here a good bit when it's released -- the author accidentally hit all my special interests and it was really well-crafted).

Rehearsals for my show are going well so far. The cast seem friendly, but it's hard for this broken human to initiate conversations with them. They're a good group, and there's always laughter at rehearsal. It's also really nice to go on long drives again (it's a forty-minute drive one way -- about what I used to do four days a week for dance before I got married).

I still don't have any motivation or ideas (well, maybe one, but it's a baby idea and it needs to incubate a little bit), but it did feel nice to actually type for a while and have my thoughts organized like this.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading.