we need our artists to make their work. need. much like we need our doctors to study and practice medicine. we need our artists to explore and learn and be in their process, too. when all else falls away, creativity remains. it is one of the foundational aspects of humanity - a through line. it is how we express ourselves. it is how we heal.

what do you value? how much do you pay for it?

dear violin: can we just be friends?

for some time now, i have been struggling with my relationship to the violin. to playing the violin. to music. to playing other people's music. to making my own music. to art. to making art. to dance. to what i want to do and make. to why. to how... and i think i just figured a little more of it out.

i think it's time to take on dance as my lover and allow violin to shift from lover to oldest and dearest friend.

with this simple - yet within my world, totally radical - thought, a lot of things suddenly make a whole lot more sense. this deep internal unrest and nagging question of, "what am i doing??" instantly feels like a knot that's been loosened and now has the space to untangle, separate, release... if things are structured this way, i can allow my passion for dance to take root and grow, and i can let go of my old ideas around the violin, and subsequently music, that have rigidly kept them at the center of my universe - more out of habit, as a perceived symbol of self, and 'shoulds' then from a place of passion, curiosity, and deep fulfillment. by letting it walk next to me instead of held out in front as a symbol of all i am, there is more internal space. and even more powerfully, i can release the guilt that i've felt around this shift.

by letting this relationship actually be what it is (vs. trying to hold it to standards that are more about a learned perception of what it should be, or trying to hold onto it out of fear that i am nothing without it), it no longer causes the same kind of inner turmoil, it no longer takes something away from something else. i immediately feel my repulsion towards the violin, and therefore my misguided reactionary impulse to shun it entirely, subsiding. and i feel less attached to it as THE font, my ultimate contribution, my main form of expression and communication - a shoe that has not fit for some time now, which i interpreted as a lack of creativity, voice, and artistic 'ability' - and not as being the wrong shoe, or a shoe that actually belongs on the other foot, or just one of many shoes...

by letting go of this false sense of identity held in being a violinist, it feels so much less important whether or not i am a dancer.

i can just dance.

and by psychologically shifting my relationship with the violin and music to a deep friendship and lifelong partnership, i once again am able to see that i love music! i love making music! i love playing the violin!

but at night, i dream about dance. i see dance. i am making dances for other people. i am communicating through dance. i am dancing.

dear dance,

will you be my lover?

it doesn't have to mean forever...

love,

paris

the james and janie washington foundation

i am incredibly excited and honored to be in-residence at the james washington house throughout the month of april! earlier today, i visited the space (the house mr. washington and his wife lived in, their beautiful garden, and the sculpture studio he created for his own work which has been turned into part museum, part library, part artist residency) and have been completely flooded by inspiration. upon first seeing the grounds in 2010, i was instantly drawn to the unused glass greenhouse in the backyard. it has worked its way into my dreams ever since, and when writing my application in 2011, i proposed a solo dance/music installation/performance created specifically for and performed from within this space, to be experienced by an audience from the other side of the glass. after my official tour today, i now know this will be just one of many facets...

mr. washington's presence permeates the entirety of the grounds. peaceful, spirituality-based living and making. i am in the right place...

questions, questions. confusion. clarity?

does anyone else have trouble identifying themselves as an artist? difficulty knowing what your process is? difficulty knowing what to do when you 'sit down' to create?

am i making something? what am i making? what is my practice? when i get into the studio, what do i do? what are my interests? how do i explore them?

on one hand, i feel very new to creating. on the other, i can look back and see that i have been involved in many creative processes - those of others and my own. what is this confusion? is this just a part of the process of creating? is it always like this, no matter how many years you've been doing it - how deep you've gone within yourself and your practice? or is this a sign of being a beginner?

i'm starting to think it's a bit of both.

as i do more and more, i'm coming to realize that i need tools - i'm in a tool gathering stage. observing and absorbing how others explore interests and inclinations, develop vocabulary, build phrases. this feels like a beginning stage. but, perhaps one that i will revisit repeatedly as i grow and evolve, as i exhaust the tools i have already spent much time exploring. musically, i'm realizing i don't think i have an interest in making albums or writing music for others to play (in terms of my own self generated projects - not in terms of what i participate in of other people's projects), but that my personal interests in music are in conjuncture with other mediums. music to be experienced aurally and visually. and perhaps in general, i'm interested in creating living cinema - a filmic experience for live audiences. at times, feeling like you are watching a film in person, and also as though you are in the film - in the experience that is unfolding.

maybe.

as i step into and own my creativity and desire to make, i simultaneously honor the groundwork i've been laying in this realm for the last 8 years, in particular, and realize that i'm a beginner. i've played music for many years in many contexts. i've danced for many years in many contexts. but i have not been flexing my creative muscles in a regular practice for very long at all. and it is a practice as much as any other.

5 and a half days of hibernation and its exact opposite as this strange and slow and sudden transition into spring unfolds: the after continues

i purposefully don't have an internet connection or television at home to encourage a continually deepening presence and dialog with myself, but i will admit it - i have watched something like 8 movies in the last 5 and 1/2 days. some of them twice.

day 1:

go. go. make. make. don't stop. don't lose momentum. what's next? what do i want to make? how do i integrate and further codify all i have discovered, all i just made?

day 2:

this couch has never felt so good.

days 3, 4, 5, and 1/2:

exhaustion. inspiration. confusion. relaxation. nuturing. attempts to be 'productive.' couch potato-dom. tears. joy. attempts to numb. feelings of great fulfillment and achievement. excitement about the future. worry that i'll never leave the couch and make anything ever again. 3, 3hr dance rehearsals back to back.

i'm going to make a dance film. no, wait - a solo performance. no, i want lots of bodies on stage. but, wait, i don't think i'm interested in stages anymore. i'm going to write a book. a collection of short stories? autobiographical fiction? but first, i'm going to write letters to all of the people i've never stood up to on behalf of myself.

exit ritual - oh, and massive amounts of growth, too.

these are my final moments in the space. i feel so full. any pain and sadness felt in the last 48hrs has melted away. i have restored the space and it is time to pass the torch. i am leaving the space in better condition then i found it, which feels really, really good. so often in my past i haven't accounted for or tended to the ending of something. i have procrastinated. i have resisted doing the work. i have burned myself out scrambling towards a goal (a performance, an application deadline...) rendering myself totally incapable of properly cleaning, restoring, moving, archiving, thanking, or taking care of the exit/ending/transition phase of a process. so often. more often than not. okay, really, probably, in every instance of 'after' to some degree throughout my life up until this point.

this time i planned well. i accounted for the ending, the exit, the transition. i built in a day off after my final performances. i built in a take down, pack up, move out day. i built in a space restoration day. and i built in a day to just be in the restored, neutral space to reflect, sing, dance, give thanks, celebrate over a home cooked meal with the people who have supported me throughout this process, and say goodbye.

not only did i plan well, but i actually followed this plan!! (which in this sense, is HUGE for me). i didn't procrastinate, drowning myself in internet tv and oven pizzas, until 4pm today then stay up all night stressed and crying, cutting corners, leaving without even being present for the goodbye...this is monumental for me. MONUMENTAL GROWTH.

and not only did i take care of my exit, it wasn't some huge struggle to take care of my exit! i just did it. without resistance.

and not only did i do it - without resistance - but i took care of myself and didn't burn out along the way.

and not only did i do it - without resistance - and while taking good care of myself along the way, i found a way to make an offering of thanks to those who had provided such massive support throughout this process.

!!!!!

i have been wanting to be this kind of person - the kind who does the work, who doesn't cut corners or make excuses, who takes care of their responsibilities, who acknowledges and gives back to those who have provided support. i have been working to be this person. for YEARS. and as of tonight i feel i can truly say: i am this person.

i think this is called maturing...facing, embracing, and stepping up to another aspect of my adulthood...who knew that giving kid paris / tucson paris the permission to come out of hiding would allow for new levels of interaction with my adult self...

i am so grateful...there are no words...

little ghosts

as the space is emptied, cleaned, and prepped to be painted, the infinitude of unrealized possibilities are starting to seep in and take hold - little ghosts of potential, haunting me. "i didn't take advantage of that enough! i wish i had... i wish i hadn't... i wish i could walk into the space for a 2-month process now. now, i'm ready. now, i would use my time and the space so differently."

i know better. i know i took full advantage of this opportunity every step of the way. i explored many nooks and crannies - within the space and myself. i turned things on their head. i experimented. i shared. i clarified. i ritualized. i actualized. i grew. wow, did i grow. i know that everything happened as it needed to. i feel proud of the process i underwent and am continuing to experience. i feel proud of what i created. i feel proud of how much i shared. and i know that all was necessary for my growth and evolution. i am where i am - in every moment. (where else is there to be? and why is it often so challenging to be okay with that?) it's actually really amazing that after 2 months time and clearing much of myself out of the space, i feel so inspired and flooded with interests for exploration.

all of these things are true.

haunt away, little ghosts.

you are seeds for the future.

this happens, too

no one talks about the process of dismantling. well, people do, i'm sure, but there is certainly much more focus put on beginnings, on creation, or on the 'product' yielded. the impermanence of time-based, site specific work is such an interesting twist in the process of creation...

there's always a sense of loss, letting go, acceptance, closure, and moving on at the end of a phase in any creative process. always. it's an inevitable and crucial part of the process. and yet for some reason, this difficult - and potentially debilitating - phase is the least talked about, shared, processed or accounted for. so often, this is the phase that destroys artists.

there is this general aversion to showing the process behind something - on either end of creation. don't go out of the house without your makeup on, without your hair done! you'd better shave those legs everyday. certainly don't let anyone see that you don't know what you're doing! don't let anyone see you in the process of figuring something out - that part of the process where you really don't know, and you just may (and most likely do) look or sound silly or inarticulate, that part of the process where you are discovering, clarifying, or refining... and when it's over, it's over. pack up. move on. there's nothing more to see or talk about or depict or share here.

it's such an interesting model we've created...one that places value on product over process and doesn't allow much room for that crucial time after something. it makes sense, i suppose - you see it everywhere in our culture. we are future and goal oriented. we strive for bigger, better, faster, stronger, more, more, more...results! find a person, get married, get a house, have children... go to elementary school, middle school, high school, college, get a job, produce, yield profitable results... but what's in the space between all of those landmarks? those 'destinations?' why is there this emphasis on hiding what is real and raw and constructing a neat and 'perfect' package for others to consume? why do we hide our humanness - one of the only things that is truly shared within our existence? by not actually processing pain, or endings, we do ourselves a great disservice and actually keep ourselves in our pain. in our past. defined and limited by our wounds...

this is my 2nd to last night of a 2-month performance/installation residency. last night, i dismantled my installation. i gathered up all of my tape players/recorders, pens, books, artifacts... i took down 250 photos of my childhood that were hung with string and tiny clothespins on a single wall. i removed my sheets and blankets, revealing the tan upholstery of the futon once again. i took down the lights i had hung. i removed each push pin, watched each string fall to the floor. i placed the ruby slippers handmade by my mother back into their boxes...

this was a bittersweet process. i felt life leave the room with each item removed. i left the room with each item removed. i felt a sense of loneliness - the deep kind. the kind that has nothing to do with how much love or support you actually have in your life. i ached for my family. somehow, having them on that wall meant i was having an intimate relationship with them. there, they knew how much i loved and appreciated them. the warmth and the transformational residue that had built throughout my 8 weeks in the space was instantly gone - a light turned out. part of me so wanted a distraction - internet tv or a companion in the space - so i could just go through these motions i was required to go through without feeling the sadness that accompanied them. a bigger/deeper part of me knew staying present was the answer.

take your time. be with the feelings that arise. no shortcuts.

today has felt very different. in just 12 hours, i let go of that sort of object oriented relationship with the space and feel a detachment starting. i feel more ready to leave. i packed up most of my things and loaded them into my car. the few remaining items will be used in tomorrow's exit ritual.

it will feel very strange to not get up and 'go to the office' everyday. i think that is one of the things i have valued most - that kind of daily purpose and direction.

everything feels exactly right. i am dismantling. and with dismantling, comes those feelings of loss, letting go, acceptance, closure, and ultimately, moving on. it's okay to feel those feelings and move through those states. healthy, even! honor, reflect on, hold space for, and share this part of the process as you would any other. oh, and take care of yourself in the process...

dismantling

IDENTITY / PERSONA: symbols of the self(?) - 2/19/12

IDENTITY / PERSONA: symbols of the self(?) - 2/18/12