Do you ever get that anxious feeling- like somehow life is coming too fast and yet not at all fast enough? It feels like you are running in place and no matter how quickly you race, your feet just turn over themselves, kicking up mud that doesn’t even dirty. The things you pass splash up and pour back down before they’ve had the chance to be properly considered. It all just keeps moving, yet no ground is covered…
This past week has felt that way for me. As a true introvert who needs her down time, too many days full of socializing, working, and apartment rearranging (updates to come!), have left me kicking the sheets quite a bit. So much doing, not enough done.
In the studio we’ve just started working on Ilya Kozadayev’s Hansel & Gretel, a very eerie retelling of an already dark folktale. Ilya is in Providence for just 10 days, creating an entire ballet from scratch to the sounds of furious wasps humming and knives being sharpened (seriously), and I’m here complaining about my mental exhaustion. Seems ridiculous, I know.
But there’s a scene in the ballet where Hansel and Gretel wake up abandoned in the haunted forest, alone and terrified. They scramble to escape this unfortunate predicament: stuck like flies in the web of a nightmare that became life overnight. Refusing to give up hope, the brother and sister find themselves moving in slow motion through a wood of invisible evils. Limbs keep turning, but bodies are carried continuously backward at a concurrent rate, creating the allusion of negative travel. They press on again and again, but the forest materializes around them with every step forward, bringing them up, down, around, and back to where they began. I can’t help but recognize this as the physical form of that anxious feeling- creating motion but not moving- that has kept my mind so restless as of late. It’s like I can’t seem to get a handle on the speed of life (are we even supposed to?) and oh, what a weight I feel. Great job on my 2016 resolution so far, eh?
Gino Di Marco, who is also in studio choreographing a new version of Lady of The Camellias, recently gave me some good advice. He caught me whining to no one in particular about the future’s frustrating lack of clarity. Gino got existential on me- as he does- and in so many words, told me to stop chasing opportunities and just let things unfold. Sound familiar? I guess sometimes you just need to make like Alice…
The rabbit hole went straight on like a tunel for some way, then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.