Rest is in order.

And I still want to dance. So I made a little film about it.

Minimum effort, maximum intention.

Ball of (Dark) Energy

In movement practices, we often use the visual image of a "ball of energy" or a "ball of light" to guide our intention and movement within our bodies. I have interpreted this technique as a positive guiding force that informs improvisational practices, a foundation for creating dances.

In yoga, Namaste can be construed as "the light in me honors the light in you."

So I find it frustrating when my disease state behaves in the same fashion. A ball of dark energy, if you will, traveling throughout my body, stopping at various points to cause trouble.

In June and July, the ball of dark energy was in my sinuses. In early August, I rolled to my right side and felt as if all my shoulder components were dismantled from one another. The energy shifted.

By mid-August, it was my endometriosis. A few days later, the energy shifted slightly north to my intestines. I cannot understand when people look at me and say, "bubble gut, huh?" Have you ever seen Rosemary's Baby? It's more like that.

The energy is currently settled in my left hip. After a couple of days of limping, it's now a dull vibration.

Rest is in order, and yet I still want to dance.

"Pain be gone, I'll have no more of thee." –Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby

Dissociating is Bliss (Temporarily)

I am a consummate performer, always showing up to the party, dance class, or meeting with a bouncy attitude. I post athletic, acrobatic feats on Instagram. I can bundle the ball of dark energy and save it for when I’m alone. Like a dog isolating from its pack when dying, I retreat for the evolutionary benefit of the group.

Unlike the behaviors of dogs and other animals, this is a learned approach. With the encouragement of ignorant doctors and teachers, I have spent over thirty years ignoring somatic alarms so that I could be “normal”. It has served me well. Suleika Jaouad describes it best,

Dissociating from my body is a familiar reflex. It’s been a useful survival tool for me at many points, especially when I’ve been in great physical pain. It allowed me to enjoy time with friends, to travel, to laugh–to escape a corporeal reality that at times felt unbearable. Though my body felt awful, my mind didn’t have to. 

However, dissociation is not a healthy long-term strategy.

Integration is Art

Over the years, the ball of dark energy has been increasingly active. Not wanting to miss out on experiences, I’ve gotten used to dissociating from my body.  By dissociating from my body, I’ve begun to dissociate from my work.

There was a moment in time when I owned a studio—a gorgeous brick-and-mortar with time and resources aplenty. My company, Satellite Dance, originated in this space, and my work focused on the aesthetic and experiential equity of community performance.

What does that mean? It means that, from shows to film to a coffee table book, I wanted every artist to receive thoughtful care. Each project represented a spectrum of abilities in a gorgeous environment, with a supportive and celebratory atmosphere. An aerialist sitting in a hammock is equally as captivating as an aerialist dropping from the sky. Both and everything in between deserve our undivided attention and respect.

And while my work with Satellite still maintains this ethos today, I struggle with granting this equity to my own artistic expression. I grapple with my old goals and beliefs of demonstrating powerful, proficient, and virtuosic movement. To prove to myself and others that, despite my disabilities, I can engage in risk. It’s familiar and comforting. 

It’s unsustainable. This dark energy is telling me so.

Visual Equity represented in Satellite Dance. Bailey Freeman (L) and Lizzy McCrary (R) photographed by Michelle Reid for The Fabric of Space & Time photo and essay book.

Practicing Self-Equity

Can I do both? Can rest and risk coexist in my work? As of writing this essay, yes. I permit myself to be athletic because I love it. Despite very real health problems, I can still enjoy this practice of risk as long as intentional rest is honored, explored, and represented.

Why? I need for myself and others to accept that "impressive" movement doesn't necessarily equate to dissociation from somatic experience. It's ignoring the work when movement is "unimpressive" that disconnects me, the Disabled Artist, from the Art.*

With these thoughts in mind, I reconnected with my Resting Artist, aiming to create an embodied representation of my inner condition. I am giving myself space and permission to celebrate my aesthetic as I am today in this integrated moment.

Head over to my website to view a short film I've made.** The simple production of capturing the improvisation was pleasant and relaxing—my Oura Ring didn't even detect physical activity! Rest is truly represented, and therefore, I am, too.

I don't have a name for this film yet. What would you call it?

With Care,

Sarah

@lazy.aerialist

(also available here)

*Note: the use of adjectives like "impressive," "unimpressive," and others used in this essay is relative and complicated. I use these terms when analyzing the evolution of my movement values and not in comparison with others. There's more to say on this topic for another time.

Creative Credits

Thank you to Suleika Jaouad for your ongoing inspiration, informing my creative practice.

The Book of Alchemy

Thank you to Victoria Marks for your work on disability justice, dance, and film. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me this month. Our conversations and your work help further shape my current identity in these spaces.

Dancing Disability Lab

Victoria Marks: Choreographing Conversation

Thank you to Rebekah Hampton Barger for our ongoing conversations and collaborations about navigating chronic illness and disability in aerial dance.

FALL

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