That Summer I spent working in “Matutano” factory, working my health off at the age of 15 years old, remains fresh in my memory. If not for the importance it had on my character shaping, for the importance it has every time I complain about my job, exhaustion or lack of inspiration.
I´m chronically busy but next week will be particularly hectic & creative, come rain or come shine. The busy part is non-negotiable; the same applies to the “creative” part. I´ll be preparing new choreographies and show for China – Jingya festival within a week – and, if there´s some extra energy left, I´ll also continue the re-writing of my upcoming book. None of these activities are optional – they´re different sides of my work & the way I win my bread. None of them can be performed without motivation, focus, passion, faith and the dreaded word: INSPIRATION.
Doubting I can do this thing – dance or writing – is always there. I´m the most insecure of all self-confident people I´ve known. The conflict between my expectations and what I actually end up with is another ever present companion.
-Do I really need to rip my hair off every time I have to create something (something great and worth sharing, in my point of view)? Why can´t this be smooth sailing journey – entering the dance studio at 3pm and leaving at 7pm with a fabulous choreography that poured from my body in an effortless, joyful, angel choir singing manner? Why?
If I take a minute to observe how most people make a living, in jobs they hate, attending to bosses who are total jerks, looking at the watch to check when it´s time to leave, I stop complaining. Immediately. I even hope for an afternoon of inner conflict – I cannot do this + yes, I can + no, I cannot + yes, I can + I said I can´t+ I said you can.
It´s hysterical and it´s not always glamorous. Background work, probably the most important in an artist´s life, is rarely glamorous: sweating at my dance studio dressed in old trainning cloths; sitting for hours at my desk, addicted to coffee and ghosts that keep me going, sculpting words and what I want to extract from them; working out at the gym; thinking,promoting, dealing professional and kindly with thousands of people from all over the world; pushing hard – harder, harder, harder. Not glamorous, indeed. But a luxury. I try not to forget it. I aim to celebrate it, no matter how hard it may seem. It is. Hard and so f……. fabulous.
If success was easy, everyone would achieve it.
Plans for this afternoon (pre-intense week preparation): going for my Ashtanga Yoga session (I´ve restarted my yoga practice) and deciding that, no matter what happens, lucidity stays with me. Celebrating the luxury of turning all my dreams into reality and the gift that is to live for/from/to the work I love.