MFA Monday: Matthew Cumbie

MFA Mondays

MFA right

 

 

Happy Monday dear Framers!  I am excited to post this because I have so enjoyed reading Matthew Cumbie’s articles.  But it’s the third of his arc, so that’s a bummer.  But in the meantime, enjoy…

 

“Small Dances About Big Ideas,” and the importance of story telling*

 

So far, when writing these blog entries I’ve chosen to tackle topics that I’ve felt strongly about. I haven’t talked directly to my experiences in graduate school, or before or after, very much at all; a conscious choice of mine, most certainly. But in doing this I realize that I haven’t given much insight into who I am or what I do, merely glimpses; I haven’t shared my story, and frankly, I believe that everyone’s story matters. It’s this belief that shapes much of what I do today and has led me to where I am now. It’s also this belief that, for me, contextualizes the larger artistic questions that we as a community find ourselves asking and the research we do to explore those questions; in plain, within these personal stories lie universalities and shared experiences that ground what we know and how we come to know that.

My current story picks up in Washington, DC, where I am a Resident Artist and the Education Coordinator for Dance Exchange, an organization rich in history and rooted in the belief that everyone’s story matters and that everyone can and is encouraged to dance. The path taken to this fortuitous place has been one of much meandering, difficulty, and perseverance (and a bit of good fortune). Truly, until my time in graduate school I had a very small understanding of what the organization did and does still; then it was the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange and I distinctly remember at one point encouraging a peer of mine to audition but not really envisioning myself involved in such a process. After finishing my MFA, however, I decided to get to know the organization better and enrolled in their Summer Institute, a condensed amount of time in which participants work closely with the company learning about their collaborative process and tools and history while collectively making and sharing. I fell in love and almost immediately knew I had found a home, one in which I was enlivened and engaged in a way that I had been searching for.

While in graduate school, as I’m sure many can attest to, one must really be focused on the work that is happening. This is particularly important if the work you’re doing is challenging and valuable, as I think most work at the graduate level should be. For me, graduate school became everything. I felt challenged on all fronts and grew three dimensionally in a way that I had never before experienced and with such rapidity that at times it felt almost impossible to keep up. It was probably one of the most difficult and exciting points in my life. I cried a lot. I laughed a lot. And I learned more about myself and my craft than I could probably ever explain on paper. I lost a relationship, and at that point particularly, poured myself without abandon into my work. My dog Lucas served as my anchor at home and my friends and peers within my program kept me afloat. I don’t regret any of it, but as I exited that environment and found myself back in a world outside of academia I realized how disproportionate my life had become.

It was at this point that I began to want and need and work towards finding a way to compromise the distance I felt between my artistic self and my everyday self. I began to question the processes that I was engaged in, wondering why I was doing this work and of what value did it have for others besides myself. What good was I doing for anyone else but me? What did I value in both my art making and my life making that I could harness in a process and feel satisfied with? How could I participate in a rigorously full artistic process and a rigorously full life simultaneously? These questions felt important in lessening that gap. When I started my work with Dance Exchange at that Summer Institute, and subsequently on some residencies that I was invited to help facilitate, answers to some of these questions manifested themselves either in the work that was made or in the relationships that formed, and I have a feeling it has to do with the alignment of my values and the organizations’ values and in the way that this process and work asks me to bring my whole self regularly.

As I mentioned before, at Dance Exchange we believe that everyone’s story matters and that everyone can and is encouraged to dance. Because of this philosophy, and our constant questioning of who gets to dance, we are committed to making space for all to participate in the making of art; from trained professionals to unexpected movers and makers, criss crossing all disciplines and engaging any who are interested in questioning and creative research. It’s in this place of exchange of ideas and information that I feel my many selves, Matthew the artist/human, fully engaged and aware. It’s in this place, where 90 year old women and men move with teenagers and twenty something year olds as a way to know and relate, that I find resonance in what I do and how I do it. It’s in this place that I have found a bridge between my many selves and feel more able to work on lessening that gap between the artistic and everyday.

To take a more macroscopic view, I want to leave you with this. In my personal experience, and in talking with many, many peers, I have found that leading full artistic lives and full everyday lives to be sometimes difficult (one could also change the word ‘artistic’ to ‘any other career’). But both are important. An integral step in doing that is finding a process or group or company or school or ensemble that continually asks you to bring your whole self, your many beautiful selves, to the work. It’s in this exchange between your own ideas and interests and this exchange between you and others that richness can be found and that much can be learned. Sometimes this work is hard; that’s when the work can be the most rewarding and relevant.  One of my former graduate professors once spoke of her ‘pedagogy of discomfort,’ a term that I have come to love. Although probably different in meaning, I have found that when situations or experiences seem to be uncomfortably hard or trying, it’s through the perseverance and working through those that has proved to be the most illuminating.

There’s something in here related to my previous posts about value and pausing, and in the combination of these 3 writings that I think speaks to carving out sustainable lifestyles as people that are committed to processes that might sometimes be difficult, especially in regards to an increasingly connected, fast-paced, and ever changing world. I hope that, wherever you’re at on this journey, you have found some nugget of something worthwhile in this and that applies to your story and story telling. It’s these stories that we carry and share that make our work worthwhile, that allow us to better our art and our lives, that allow us to gather as a community and work towards our individual and shared goals. It’s these individual small dances that we make which contribute to our collective big ideas.

 

* “Small Dances About Big Ideas” is a work by Liz Lerman and the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange which premiered in 2005. It is not at all related to the topics discussed above other than the connection of Dance Exchange. 

 

Photo by Jori Ketten. Dance Exchange artists Matthew Cumbie, Sarah Levitt, and Shula Strassfeld (in order) in Cassie Meador's How To Lose a MountainMatthew Cumbie is a professional dance artist based in Washington, DC, and is currently a Resident Artist and the Education Coordinator for the Dance Exchange. As a company member with the Dance Exchange, he works with communities across the United States and abroad in collaborative art-making and creative research as a means to further develop our understanding of our selves and community in relation to the environment around us. He has also been a company member with Keith Thompson/danceTactics performance group, and has performed with Mark Dendy, the Von Howard Project, Sarah Gamblin, Jordan Fuchs, jhon stronks, Paloma McGregor, and Jill Sigman/thinkdance. His own work has been shown in New York, Texas, New Mexico, Louisiana, and at Harvard University. He has taught at Dance New Amsterdam, Texas Woman’s University, and Queensborough Community College. He holds an M.F.A. in dance from Texas Woman’s University.

Free Events Thursday

Free Events Thursday

BESO Latin Saturdays at Synn Ultra Lounge

April 05, 2014 – July 12, 2014 (Every Saturday) from 10:00pm – 2:00am

3302 Mercer St., Houston, TX 77027

Join us this Saturday Night at Synn Ultra lounge for BESO. Houston’s upscale latin party. With its welcoming ambiance, Moving Music, & Plenty of Eye candy BESO Saturdays at Synn Ultra Lounge display elegance, class, and style amongst all the rest.

Price: FREE!!!

 

3rd Annual Houston Improv Festival

April 24, 2014 – April 27, 2014 (Recurring daily): Thursday – 8pm; Friday & Saturday – 8pm & 10pm

Midtown Art Center

3414 LaBranch, Houston, TX 77004

The 3rd Annual Houston Improv Festival descends upon Houston April 24-27 at Midtown Art Center. HIF 2014 welcomes fifteen improvised acts from around the country.

Price: $15

 

Save the date! San Jacinto Day Festival 2014 

Saturday, April 26th

Booming cannons, cracking musket fire, thundering hooves and desperate battle cries resound across the San Jacinto Battleground as hundreds of history reenactors recreate the events leading up to Texas winning its independence at the decisive Battle of San Jacinto.

Price: FREE!!!

 

30th Annual Wine & Roses Festival

April 26, 2014 at  2-8pm

Messina Hof Winery and Resort

4545 Old Reliance Rd., Bryan, TX 77808

We invite Houston to our 30th Annual Wine & Roses Festival at Messina Hof?, Saturday April 26th in Bryan, TX! Wine tasting, grape stomp, art classes, live music and so much more!

Price: FREE!!!

 

4th Annual Gumbo Cook-Off and Fun Day

April 26, 2014 from 10 am – 6 pm

Clear Lake, Landolt Pavilion

5100 E Nasa Pkwy, Seabrook, TX 77586

4th Annual Gumbo Cook-off & Family fun day featuring Gumbo Cook-off Competition, People Choice Award, Gumbo Tasting, Celebrity Judges, Vendors, Booths, Silent Auction, Dunking Tank – See whose getting dunked! Come hungry for Gumbo, Crawfish Plates, Sausage-on-a-Stick and more. Live Entertainment featuring The Station Break Band. Proceeds benefit Rotarians of Seabrook Charities.

Price:  $10 and includes Gumbo Tasting (It includes food, people)!

 

Artist Talk: Trenton Doyle Hancock

April 27, 2014 at 2:00 pm

Contemporary Arts Museum Houston

5216 Montrose Boulevard, Houston, TX 77006

Join artist Trenton Doyle Hancock and Senior Curator Valerie Cassel Oliver for an artist talk in conjunction with Trenton Doyle Hancock’s exhibition “Skin and Bones, 20 Years of Drawing.”

Price: FREE!!!

 

2013-2014 ROCO Chamber Series: French Salon

April 27, 2014 at 4:00 PM

Gremillion & Co. Fine Art Annex

2504 Nottingham Street, Houston, TX 77005

Finishing out the Chamber Series is a French Salon concert that includes music by Poulenc and more feature Alecia Lawyer on Oboe and Kristin Wolfe Jensen on Bassoon.

Price: $25

 

 

Tuesday Tunes: The Roaring Twenties!

Tuesday Tunes

Tuesday Tunes

 

 For the next few of weeks, Tuesday Tunes will be spotlighting famous dance crazes throughout the decades!

 

         This Tuesday Tunes celebrates the…

 

 

 

 

The spirit of the 1920’s was marked with a disdain for modesty and the breaking of traditions which brought the sensations of jazz music and the ideology and fashion of the flappers. The Roaring Twenties, also know as the Golden Twenties, was a time of raised skirts, bobbed hair  and exciting parties filled with fun cocktails and wild dances. Dances like the Charleston, Black Bottom, the Shimmy (which was actually banned in certain areas)and many others took the world by storm and dancing to a whole new level. 

 

 

The Charleston, the Shimmy and the Lindy Hop

 

Black Bottom 1926, and The Black Bottom Dance

 

1920’s – Quickstep Vs Charleston



MFA Monday: Matthew Cumbie

MFA Mondays

MFA right

 

 

“During the pause is the ideal time to listen…”

 

Time is a funny thing. When you want more of it, it doesn’t seem to exist. When you’re anticipating something coming or going, you really wish that time would fly by. At least that’s been my experience. You see, I’m a planner, as I’m sure many of us are. How can you not be when you’re a working artist? Between scheduling rehearsals, performances, application deadlines, auditions, teaching gigs, meals, and maybe (just maybe) some personal time- one sometimes has to be quite diligent about putting things down somewhere. I find that when I do put those things down, though, often my mind will wander away into future- or past-ness. In rehearsals this last week, in every down minute that I had I realized that I was thinking to the weeks ahead, going over schedules to make sure that I hadn’t missed anything or adding new things to a growing To Do list to accomplish who knows when. Even this morning over breakfast, I was trolling through photos on my phone, going over where I had been and what I had done and missing people, places, and specific times in my life. The funny thing about time and all of this, though, is that in missing or not missing things both past and present I am missing what’s happening right now. Right in front of my face. Literally. My dog is asleep on one of his beds under a side table (a favorite spot of his), my coffee grows cold, and a slightly overcast DC gets a bit sunnier outside.

As a mover and improviser, being present in the moment is something of a goal of mine. For me, being present means being aware and responsive to the temporal moment, tracking your internal choice making and external stimuli simultaneously. It’s of such interest that it even had an entire section of research devoted to it in my professional paper for my MFA. I bring this up because I realize how much of a slippery slope getting caught up in planning and reflecting can be, and how important it is to ground oneself in the now as much as we can. It is in these moments that I feel as if time expands and I can really do so much with what time I have, relieving stress and allowing me to appreciate what I have and what is presented to me.

Now how do we go about attuning ourselves to the now? Really I believe that this is a personal process, one that we develop with repetition and over time. In my practice, it’s about finding a pause or interruption. When improvising and moving from one score to another, a certain kind of momentum builds that is either physically manifested in the body or an internal momentum of choice making in which choices are made before they are fully realized, or both. As soon as I acknowledge that I’ve been riding this dizzying wave of momentum and that I might not be tracking or seeing certain possibilities, I quickly search for a pause or interruption so that I might re-engage in the now and gather a new sort of clarity. Applying this same process to our daily lives, as soon as I realize that I’m stressing about what is going to happen next week or when I’ll be able to take a day off, or if I’m reminiscing about the ‘good ol’ days’ and missing my friends from Texas terribly, I similarly try to find a way to pause or interrupt that process so that I can be more fully present in the moment.

In doing so, I’m better able to notice vibrant colors, textures, make connections that are more meaningful and authentic with others, and better appreciate myself and my potential (to name a few). I realize that maintaining this kind of perception, this responsive sense of seeing and experiencing, can be difficult. And all of this is not to say that we shouldn’t think ahead or look back, as both are wonderful reminders or where we’ve been and where we’re headed. But I firmly believe that if we take the time to pause or interrupt ourselves more frequently, that we’ll better be able to consciously craft our selves and track a more rich and meaningful path.

So for the sake of brevity, and to practice rather than preach, I’m going to bring this to a close. I don’t want to toil over what to write or whether or not this or that thing said will be a more relevant nugget of whatever; I want to cling to my belief that within each of us, our bodies and stories, lives wisdom that we all might draw upon and that by attuning to the temporal moment we might more readily access that. There is so much activity happening right now; the air is buzzing. Harness that energy and do something. In fact, if anything, I encourage you to always do something.

Go make something. Go see something. Go talk about something with someone. Find a way to disrupt your everyday so that you might appreciate the beauty and vitality of that moment.

 

 

Photo by Jori Ketten. Dance Exchange artists Matthew Cumbie, Sarah Levitt, and Shula Strassfeld (in order) in Cassie Meador's How To Lose a MountainMatthew Cumbie is a professional dance artist based in Washington, DC, and is currently a Resident Artist and the Education Coordinator for the Dance Exchange. As a company member with the Dance Exchange, he works with communities across the United States and abroad in collaborative art-making and creative research as a means to further develop our understanding of our selves and community in relation to the environment around us. He has also been a company member with Keith Thompson/danceTactics performance group, and has performed with Mark Dendy, the Von Howard Project, Sarah Gamblin, Jordan Fuchs, jhon stronks, Paloma McGregor, and Jill Sigman/thinkdance. His own work has been shown in New York, Texas, New Mexico, Louisiana, and at Harvard University. He has taught at Dance New Amsterdam, Texas Woman’s University, and Queensborough Community College. He holds an M.F.A. in dance from Texas Woman’s University.

Tuesday Tunes: Buddy Ebson

Tuesday Tunes

Tuesday Tunes

 

Before he was Jed Clampett…

       

         Buddy Ebson

 

You get more negative reactions than positive reactions as you go through life, and the big lesson is nobody counts you out but yourself…I never have, I never will.

 

Buddy Ebsen began his career as a dancer in the late 1920s in a Broadway chorus. He later formed a vaudeville act with his sister Vilma Ebsen, which also appeared on Broadway. In 1935 he and his sister went to Hollywood, where they were signed for the first of MGM’s Eleanor Powell movies, Broadway Melody of 1936 (1935). While Vilma retired from stage and screen shortly after this, Buddy starred in two further MGM movies with Powell. Two of his dancing partners were Frances Langford in Born to Dance (1936) and Judy Garland in Broadway Melody of 1938 (1937). They were a little bit taller than Shirley Temple, with whom he danced in Captain January (1936). MGM studio chief Louis B. Mayer offered him an exclusive contract in 1938, but Ebsen turned it down. In spite of Mayer’s warning that he would never get a job in Hollywood again, he was offered the role of the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz (1939). Ebsen agreed to change roles with Ray Bolger, who was cast as the Tin Man. Ebsen subsequently became ill from the aluminum make-up, however, and was replaced by Jack Haley. He returned to the stage, making only a few pictures before he got a role in the Disney production of Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier (1955). After this, he became a straight actor, and later won more fame in his own hit series, The Beverly Hillbillies (1962) and Barnaby Jones (1973).

 

BROADWAY MELODY OF 1936 (Buddy & his sister Vilma)

 

 Buddy Ebsen dancing 1978

 

Donald O’Connor and Buddy Ebsen (a RARE clip)

 

 

Fun Facts about Mr. Buddy Ebson

 

Got the nickname ‘Buddy’ from his aunt, so Christian changed his name to Buddy Ebsen.

Was a Boy Scout.

In the 1930s, Disney animators filmed him dancing in front of a grid to “choreograph”Wayne Allwine’s dance steps for the Silly Symphony cartoons.

Originally cast as the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz (1939), Buddy was hospitalized as a result of inhaling aluminum powder used as part of his make-up. One chorus of “We’re Off to See the Wizard” in the movie and soundtrack album retain Ebsen’s original vocals as the Tin Man, recorded before he was forced to leave the production. Because of the prolonged hospitalization, he was replaced by Jack Haley (whose reformulated make-up used pre-mixed aluminium dust), and Ebsen’s scenes were re-shot using Haley. Footage of Ebsen as the Tin Man still exists, and was included as an extra with the U.S. 50th anniversary video release of The Wizard of Oz (1939).

After seeing Ebsen in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961), the creator of The Beverly Hillbillies (1962) wanted him to play family patriarch Jed Clampett. At the time, Ebsen was thinking of retiring, but the producers sent him a copy of the script, and he changed his mind.

Began his television series The Beverly Hillbillies (1962) at age 54.

Taught Judy Garland the shim-sham shimmy while they were at MGM.

Was a longtime friend of Dick Van Dyke, who hosted his memorial service on 30 August 2003.

He served in the Coast Guard during World War II as the executive officer on the Pocatello, a submarine chaser in the North Pacific.

Became a bestselling author at age 93.

Buddy Ebsen died on July 6, 2003. Just 3 weeks after his death, his longtime best friend, comedian Bob Hope, passed away.

Buddy Ebsen died just three months before his death, he celebrated his 95th birthday, on April 2.

 

 

MFA Monday: What is a Notochord?

MFA Mondays

MFA right

 

 

 

Monday is no longer as blah with awesome insights into holding a Master of Fine Arts!

 

Here is another installment by MFA student, Angela Falcone. Enjoy!

 

 

What is a “notochord”?

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A former Kilgore College Rangerette and friend of mine, Carla Rudiger, came to our somatics class at Texas Woman’s University to introduce us to Body Mind Centering.  This ninety-minute introductory workshop changed the way I think, feel, and know my body.  Carla’s first request (before meeting) was to read “The Place of Space” (Interview with Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen on the Embryological Embodiment of Space) by Nancy Stark Smith and Andrea Olsen.  Below is my reflection on the process of the class.

My experience with the Body Mind Centering class revealed how much I do not know about my own body.  One of the most basic principles of Body Mind Centering is this idea of “support precedes movement.”  With that, the class was structured into four sections: reading about the embryonic process (Smith and Olsen article), visualizing the embryonic process (from sperm to egg) on a sheet of paper, watching Carla’s embodiment of skeletal structures of the spine on a Pilates ball, and, finally, trying the embodiment ourselves.  In the skeletal structure, she revealed three layers of the spine: the notochord, the intermediate plates, and the lateral plates.  The notochord is the innermost part of the spine.  In more anatomical terms, the notochord is “a flexible rod-like structure that forms the main support of the body, from which the spinal column develops” (The Free Dictionary by Farflax).  As Carla began rolling on the Pilates ball, she placed her attention and focus on her notochord through visualization.  During this somatic practice, her movement shifted ever so slightly.  When Carla began to involve the other spinal structures (the intermediate and lateral plates), I could also see Carla’s movement becoming fuller and richer.  I wanted so badly to embody this quality.

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This vulnerable demonstration opened my eyes to the importance of my own support system.  Her embodiment of the movement began with her deepest form of support, her spine and even more specifically her notochord.  Unlike most of my fellow classmates, I, personally, became less familiar with my connection the deeper we brought our attention to the notochord. (Perhaps this unfamiliarity stems from my training and upbringing, which lacks somatic practice in general.)  What I find ironic is the notochord layer is the most basic, deepest level of your body, but I quickly discovered that I am unable to embody this layer at this point in my life.  As Carla began taking us through more exercises, I found a lessened connection to my body. Which, frankly, scared me.  I began to tear up in class as I questioned my own support system, which then made me question my movement patterns.  I finally asked myself…have I been “faking it” my whole life?  If we choose to bring our attention and focus to our innermost layer of being, I believe our dancing can reflect that intellectual and physical connection.

All things considered, I am completely intrigued by this Body Mind Centering approach and want to take it a step further.  My future ambition is to begin taking classes this summer at Dallas Yoga Center to develop my own practice so that I may inform other dancers about this approach to embodiment.  I truly believe educators can begin at the core of the body (literally) to develop a more somatic approach for young dancers as well.  Let’s all jump on the bandwagon and preach finding the notochord!

For more information about Body Mind Centering, check out the website at www.bodymindcentering.com.

————————-

 

Falcone1

Angela Falcone, a Houston native, graduated from Friendswood High School in 2007.  She was a member of the drill team, the Friendswood Wranglerettes, where she held the title of Grand Marshal.  After graduating, she followed her dream and tried out for the Kilgore College Rangerettes. She had the honor of being chosen as the Freshmen Sergeant and Swingster her freshman year, and received the greatest honor of being chosen as Captain her sophomore year. Following graduation from Kilgore College with an Associate in Fine Arts, she was accepted to the University of Texas at Austin, where she holds a B.F.A. in Dance.  Angela currently attends Texas Woman’s University in Denton, Texas where she is pursuing her M.F.A. in Dance.  She is specifically interested in shifting the paradigm of high school drill team by reinvigorating the choreographic process and bringing a somatic awareness to high school dancers’ bodies.

Tuesday Tunes: April Fools Style!

Tuesday Tunes

Tuesday Tunes

Happy April Fools, Framers! Tuesday Tunes presents the more comical side of dancing in…

             How Not to Dance!

 

John Wayne…doing the Jitterbug (Yes you read that correctly)

 

Wednesday Addams Teaches Lurch the Latest Dance Craze

 

Groucho Marx Dancing in A Day at the Races

 

Lucy VS. Ballet

 

The Carlton Dance

MFA Monday

MFA Mondays

MFA right

 

Confessions of an MFA: Day 3 – Thriller, Breakdowns, and Gingerbread Lattes

 

I read once that it takes the average person four months before they feel at home after moving into a new house or apartment.  I remember thinking how long that seemed.  I’ve always been someone who, once the boxes are unpacked, I feel like I am at home.  Perhaps it’s my lack of sentiment, or perhaps it’s my obsession with unpacking just overwhelms any other feelings I might have, but even in this last move, crossing over state lines, the house felt like ours right away.  Now, the city, that was a different story, but at least at the house, I felt like I was at home.

This past week was one of those weeks – the kind where, by Thursday, you get home from your day and just sit down in the middle of the hallway because the couch is just too far away.  Between my car breaking down on the freeway and my students practically vibrating from all of the Halloween candy, it felt like nothing could go right.  Yet, each night I got home, I felt great.  In fact, I felt better than I’ve felt since getting to Denver.

Of course, this made me feel stressed out.  Completely counterintuitive, I know – I was so baffled as to why I was feeling great when I was in the middle of the week that wouldn’t end that I felt like, of course, I had to be missing something.  What was wrong with me?  Was I a masochist?  Am I just completely motivated by stress?  Had I finally crossed over to the other side of crazy?  And then it struck me – it all felt so normal.  For the first time since moving, I felt normal.

Now, I think we can all agree that dancer normal is just not the same as other people’s normal.  Our sense of a typical day is just different than others.  Our weeks are filled with surprises: walking into your performance space to find it’s actually a circular stage ; giving a lecture about how we go to the bathroom before dance class only to have one of your students wet his or her pants halfway through barre; having a costume tear moments before going onstage and desperately hunting for safety pins, tape, glue, anything that will hold the seam together.  Our days are unpredictable, and I have come to rely on those surprises as my norm.

What I realized this week is that it’s not adjusting to my new schedule that has made me so uneasy the past few months.  Rather, it’s been my lack of confidence that I can handle all of the surprises that come along in my week.  But this past week, I had answers.  I knew my local mechanic where I could send my car.  I knew that I had the freedom to give up on trying to teach my classes on Halloween and just put on Thriller.  I even knew which coffee shop I could go to for a pick-me-up gingerbread latte.  And having those answers made me feel normal again – that I was having a typical week once again.

It’s this confidence that I’ve been missing in my new home.  Having to use a map to find the nearest Target, I felt like a visitor, and visitors don’t have answers to solve the everyday problems that arise in a new place.  But, when I woke up Friday morning of this crazy week, I felt comfortable.  I felt like I was at home. I looked at the calendar this morning and realized we have been living in our new city for exactly four months and two days.  I guess that study had some merit after all.

 

HeadShot2012Mary Grimes is a dancer, choreographer, writer, teacher, and working artist living in the Bay Area.  Since receiving her MFA in Performance and Choreography from Mills College, she has started working as a dance writer and critique, writing for such magazines as Dance and Dance Studio Life.  She has had to opportunity to work with accomplished choreographers including Trisha Brown, Yvonne Rainer, Molissa Fenley, and Marc Bamuthi Joseph.  Her choreographer has been presented nationally.  In the future, Mary hopes to continue her work as a dance writer and is excited to see where this path will take her.