The Day After

I don’t want to leave this place. This intense place where I sleep hard because I’m so tired from the day. Then, I dream in detail of the work, and when I re-hash the dream play-by-play during my waking thoughts I have solutions to problems spots; wholes are filled. I don’t want to leave this place where any and everything that I read and see becomes fodder for creating. I see one dance show and it puts my work in perspective. I read a chapter from another book and it’s like a message from God.  It’s like Never Never Land, except I’m not Peter Pan who just plays in this world. I’m Tinkerbell. I hold the magic.

Except I can’t stay in Never Never Land. At all. I’m pulled out by the fact that I have responsibilities. Though the only responsibility that I can seem to tend to with any consistency these past few weeks is my job: my Tuesday & Thursday 9-11, then 12-4:30 and my Monday & Wednesday 3-6. All the other time is laser vision focused on the project. Everything else in my life is literally strewn about with little to no order. I can’t find anything. Nothing is organized. Nothing is on time. Clothes and books and papers and bills are haphazardly swirling around me making me anxious and unsettled, but I have had no desire to tend to them until about 5 minutes ago... and even then I told myself, after another good night's rest.

I watched "A Good Man" today, the newest PBS documentary following Bill T. Jones. I sat on the couch with my lap top up, taking notes on the same page I took notes last night with my Works In Process audience. I was in class. Learning from who PBS and a lot of other folks have deemed a "master" choreographer. Maybe. Maybe mostly because he is twice my age and has been presenting dances for longer than my life. Maybe really because he makes the work I love to see, and live to make. A dance that can be read like a book.

Still. I saw myself in him. I saw myself in him wrapped up in a process where he is engrossed and constantly taking in new information: reading and talking and observing and maybe haunted and conflicted and thrilled and nervous and vulnerable and sometimes not knowing what the hell to do. But I think if he has it his way - and clearly he does - he doesn't leave Never Never Land either. 

And so on the eve of the morning where I have to make myself get up early and be productive in traditional responsible ways, I dream about how I can stay in Never Never Land forever, and support myself. I wonder is it possible, really really possible to make money and maintain a healthy, organized life while being in this all consuming place?