A Birthday and 9-11

I wrote the folllowing several years ago:
Having a birthday that falls on 9-11 makes one think very deeply about the meaning of life. On that tragic day, so many of us lost people we knew, friends, family. The world was hit hard, punched in its gut. Celebrating a birthday was the furthest thing from my mind. The following year before September, I started an online support group for people whose birthday fell on September 11th. I wasn't sure what kind of reception it would get, but it didn't take long before people started posting and sharing how guilty they felt, like I did, about celebrating on a day when such a tragic event had occurred. The group lasted a few years and then petered out. One thing us 9-11 babies concluded was that we need to keep celebrating, not stop. We need to celebrate our 9-11 birthdays because there are so many who would have given anything to have one more day of life. So I celebrate, and I remember as well.

In 2011, the 10th anniversary of 9-11, I did a 9-11 butoh "Walk of Remembrance" through Huntington Village, starting at the library and ending at the 9-11 memorial in Heckscher Park. I needed to do it. I remembered with a full heart... those I knew who perished, and those I didn't. It was done with great reverence and love. Afterward, some friends and I went out to celebrate my birthday, and life. Here's to LIFE.

Make Your Own Parade

With the arrival of Spring, naturally my spirits are a bit lifted and heart is lightened. This is a big thing, considering all that last year brought and the remnants that are still present to be moved through as they come. I am remembering many things, particularly moments and experiences over the course of the last twelve years or so when my creativity was given an opportunity to shine and when I was able to rise to an occasion to present my most bright and colorful self to the world. A secondary but equal benefit was the hope that whatever it is I did or was involved in would somehow make a positive impact on the world around me. Would touch people’s hearts.

I didn’t organize the parade I led the day this photo was taken. My dear friend Ginger Balizer-Hendler wrote a book titled “The Adventures of Gingerella” that became a musical theatrical work, and also an installation in Riverhead, NY. Ginger’s book is absolutely heartwarming. With a hint of “The Little Prince”, she wrote characters in the form of animals, except for the main character Gingerella. The story is about Peace. When she asked me if I would like to contribute to her installation in Riverhead, I didn’t hesitate to say yes! I created a few floating beings which were incorporated into her installation (one image can be seen here on my website on my Mixed Media page) and Ginger also asked if I would lead a parade from the gallery to the local organic community garden, leaving the costume and presentation up to me. It was such a joy to be there and when I saw this photo that my dear friend Renata took, and saw that people had been following me… yes, indeed I was leading a parade!… it warmed my heart so much!

When I look at my home movies, I’m a ham, I ran around in circles, danced and pranced and posed for the camera, and had so much energy! It was always in me. In my dysfunctional family, I wasn’t seen so eventually I became invisible, or so I thought. That was then. How I made it from there to here is, really, a miracle!

When I was a child, I wanted to sing and thought I could but it was made clear that it was better and safer to stay quiet. I loved dancing but clearly that was out too. So I turned to visual art. It was quiet and I could do it any time, even in the comfort of my own room without anyone knowing. Same with writing. But art saved me, really saved me through so much of my life. It still is and ART will always be my first love. But honestly, I go in many directions, creatively-speaking.

In 2012, I learned I could sing when I joined a choir and have been singing on my own and even writing songs ever since. When I was drawn to butoh dance in 2010 and then began busking up in town, people’s reactions told me I could, and that I was making a difference. I had to reach out to discover myself. I had to put myself in new situations to see what would happen. I had to “make my own parade”. Then people saw me! I was invited to dance at events and was even paid for some. I was invited to do photo shoots, like the creative shoots I did with the talented Alex M. Wolff. Those were fun and really helped me embrace my love of costume and drama and the end result were photos I can look back on that tell stories. I had to put the ball in motion by putting myself out there and there was a chance I would be laughed at, or worse… not seen at all. But I was seen, and acknowledged, and invited to continue. So I did, whenever I could.

When I was in my 20’s a family member knew the well-known Civil War artist from my home town, Mort Kunstler and introduced me to him. Mr. Kunstler invited me to his beautiful home and he and his wife were so gracious and down to earth. He gave me advice as a young artist. He told me to show my art wherever and whenever I could because we never know who will notice us and what it will lead to. I remember that day vividly and have taken that advice as one of my life’s mottos.

And here I am… still dealing with chronic illness (walked with a cane in 2009, symptoms eased then cane again in 2012, symptoms eased, then cane again now) and the strokes of last year and still I am painting! I put myself out there in the ways that I can. And truthfully I go much slower than I’d like and need to rest much more often than I would choose to, but it is necessary. This is not just age. This is not age. This is chronic illness and as I write, I am acknowledging to the depths of my heart my immense bravery, fortitude, and strength of spirit. As I look over the photos of the performances I have done, often I did not know if I could get there until I was there. Occasionally I did not make it and had to let someone down, but it was met with compassion and I was much harder on myself than anyone else could have been because I really, really want to do so much. Life is absolutely beautiful. It can be ugly but we choose what to focus on. Good to stay aware and balanced and not all “head in the clouds” but it is so necessary to know when to turn it all off and go shine someplace.

Dance and movement are something I am working my way back to, and ART is ever-present and holds me up every day. The smell of a room that is used for oil painting is home for me. I am doing all that I can and still, if I had perfect health and lived a hundred years, there still wouldn’t be time enough to do all the wonderful things my heart pulls me toward. I try to stay in touch with it all because as I recover from the strokes and the depression and anxiety that have followed, it’s so important for me to remember the things I CAN do, to remember the things I have done, the things that light me up from the inside, the things that make me forget about the concept of time, and the things that make me feel more than okay. And… at any time, on any day, knowing that I have the power to reach for one of these things and make my own parade.

Cherry Blossoms and a Circle Dance

Remembering the days when I danced and did performances is helping me, even though as I heal from the strokes I may not get back to where I was (can we ever go back?), I believe I will be able to do it in a new way. Even when I did these dances, I never felt well, as I've had health challenges for a long time. Recovering from the strokes is much more challenging and is going slowly, but it is happening.

This photo was taken during a performance at Cinema Arts Centre in Huntington, NY in July, 2011 at a special event honoring Vic Skolnick one year after his passing. I did the performance with my friend William Kruhmin. The Cinema showed the film Cherry Blossoms after our performance and a Cherry Blossom Tree was planted in his honor in their beautiful garden.

William and I had rehearsed for this and had a framework for the performance which was to be contained within a Circle in the brickwork in the garden. The story of our performance was about the gifts we are left with after those we love pass into spirit (gifts represented by roses). I chose a piece of music from the film, Chinsagu No Hana. I represented one of spirit beginning the performance by descending the stairs into the circle, and William was already in the circle and stayed there the whole time. To our dismay, as the music began, I heard that it had been cut in half! It was starting in the middle! Oh my... I wasn't sure what to do.... probably nobody knew, but I feel our performance would have been stronger if we had done it as we planned with the full piece of music. So here we were, on the spot, having to tell the same story in half the time. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I stared off into space and spoke the words, "This is not the beginning," hoping to alert the sound guy. He didn't hear me, but people were watching and probably thought that was part of the performance. So all we could do was move forward. I had a dozen pink roses that I placed around the circle as I danced.... some people reached for them, but I was a spirit and placed them on the ground around the circle. William began moving around the circle on the opposite side, picking them up and gifting them to people in the audience around us. Eventually we met in the center of the circle and our movements echoed each others.... symbolizing that all our relationships are but a brief and beautiful encounter with another soul. As the music was about to end, I made my way slowly back up the staircase, out of the Circle (life) and William stayed there, holding a rose.

Thanks to William for making it possible. I was so grateful to be able to offer this, as the Cinema Arts Centre is one of the most important places in our community. It was an honor to perform there.

The thing about Cherry Blossoms (Sakura) and why they are so celebrated each year is because they only burst into bloom for a short couple of weeks before they pass. It's so important to grasp beauty, love, joy, life when we have it because nothing lasts forever. Everything is temporary.

The circle paintings I am doing now are a way to accept the present moment whatever it brings, and usually... I would venture to say that always... there is something to find joy in, to sing about, to dance about, to love. In each moment. Even Sensei Kazuo Ohno (one founder of butoh), before he passed at age 104 and could hardly move, still continued to dance with just his eyes.