There is something about summer that never fails to drift me into a more aimless, dreamy, and floating state of mind. I wonder sometimes if the seasonal clock that dictated our early school lives still ticks inside of us, surfacing into old patterns and habits. Something holds on to that vivid memory of hard work and studying from September to May, followed by about three months of blissful summer freedom.Read More
When I began teaching those dance classes regularly about five years ago, I would hesitantly say to people, “yes, I teach dance,” always followed by, “but I’m not actually a teacher, I’m a choreographer.” It’s silly, really, because the two are in no way mutually exclusive. Why in the world couldn’t I just be both?Read More
Since the beginning of this New Year (which already seems so long ago) I have been establishing a new disciplined creative routine.Read More
I go through phases where besides the time spent teaching and dancing in the studio, I barely listen to music. I enjoy the inner silence and the outer background noise of cars and frequent yelling matches outside in the streets (although I can never tell if it is happy enthusiastic cries or a fight- both are entirely plausible in Tangier). I don’t feel the need to fill space with anything but this unique sort of white noise and my own thoughts swimming among it.
However, there is something about winter- the month of December especially- that starts to give me this pressing need for a daily soundtrack.Read More
Walking into the first day of a dance intensive always brings me back to that first-day-of-school feeling. Observing the fellow students in your classroom, trying to pick up on the subtle overall vibe of the group in order to align your expectations accordingly. However, unlike my first days of school, the first day of any dance intensive usually brings out more excitement than nerves and usually is paired with a creative willingness to let go of personal judgements and keep an open mind about what might happen in the studio. That’s the aim, anyway.Read More
A couple of weeks ago, along with starting up my regular contemporary dance classes for teens and adults at the conservatory in Tangier, it fell upon me to substitute two ballet classes for 5 and 6 year olds, just for that first week. If you know me well, you will know that this is not my thing- not even a little bit. It is not that I dislike kids, of course, but trying to control a large classroom full of them is simply not my forte. However, I am quite loyal to the conservatory since they provided me with my first job when I moved here and they needed these classes taken care of, so I figured I could grin, bear it, and make the most of the experience.Read More
I am writing less than I normally do today, because this- this is about the movement. Sometimes dance doesn't need too many extra words.
Several days ago I made myself go to the studio for the first time in about two weeks. Between plans with friends, teaching yoga, a bruised arch on my left foot and a general lack of inspiration or spark, I just could not be bothered to get myself into that space of creativity and movement.Read More
I arrived in the two am deep darkness, foggy from the train ride and altogether exhausted from a day’s worth of travel. Two of the very kind co-founders of the festival picked me up and drove my disoriented self through country road and tiny winding streets until we reached a looming pair of gates. We pulled up behind a building and I could barely see a thing around me except above, a vast sparkling array of stars mapped out like a planetarium. I stumbled inside, upstairs, and practically fell headfirst into the grand and comfortable shape of a canopied bed before passing out for the next 5 hours.Read More
To this day, I cannot quite explain what compelled me to go on a run a couple hours before the ftour during only my second week of ever practicing Ramadan. I was (and still am) a sporadic runner to say the least, putting on my shoes and heading out usually only when feeling anxious, stressed or angry. Those are my running triggers. Yet there I was, my body on low power mode with no water or food burning up energy inside, and I decided that it sounded like a lovely idea to go for a brisk jog out in the last hours of bright sun.Read More