In a world where small-town shootings have become a thing, and you now can’t even run a marathon without worrying that you might not live to see the finish line, what gives me the audacity to think that my interest in a continuum from concert to commercial dance actually matters? I’m struggling to write something that feels so vapid at this point in time, especially knowing that so much turmoil is affecting the world on a daily basis. I mean, I know that since forever there’s always been something threatening the state of humanity—and maybe it’s just a sign of personal growth that I’m just now realizing how heavy life can become when you take the time to lift your eyes up and out of your own ego—but I’m really starting to feel bothered that my personal agenda is not even sort of saving lives, changing the world for the better, or even pushing some provocative political agenda.
I’ve always said that I want to somehow make it into the history books one day, but I’m just not positive that my current plan of action is going to end up being that claim to fame –and I sort of worry that I’m just wasting time.
I’m absolutely allowed to be concerned with things other than North Korea blowing up the world someday soon, and it has occurred to me that maybe taking the time to coordinate my glitter has somehow allowed me to cope (and has maybe even helped others to cope) with the reality that our human race is sort of fucked. I know that I don’t need to apologize for liking the sparkly things that I like (…and then writing about them), because day-to-day life still matters (and somebody has to coordinate the glitter, people), but my question has now become…
How long can I actually continue living in a state of ignorant-glittery bliss before I finally figure out a way to use my talents proactively?
I say these things also realizing that I’m not even sure what it is exactly I want to be doing instead—I just know I’m genuinely scared for what’s to come based on the current state of affairs, and I want to do more than just choreograph a flashmob and/or a benefit concert once every few years. I want to get dirty…maybe even arrested for making art that matters and challenges the things that I don’t agree with. I want to know that by the time I’m buried six feet under from either old age or a natural disaster…not because my neighbor decided to experiment with bath salts, that I’ve done something worth celebrating with pride.
It seems like every time I turn around, somebody’s telling me that I need to start trusting myself –I also need to stop waiting for permission to do the things I want to do. So here it is friends, I want to change the world through dance. It’s no longer good enough for me to just make work about something that sucks; I want cancer, suicide bombers, and ignorant homophobes to all feel the wrath of my dance making abilities.
This is just the beginning, folks. Look out, Syria—I may even come for you!