Summer Break

Your subscriptions will be paused...

Photo by Nikola Johnny Mirkovic on Unsplash

Dear Dancers,

I am exhausted. I think I wrote a post or two ago that I'm exhausted. And maybe a couple of posts before that. Did I mention I'm exhausted.

It is summer. The weather swings between warm and muggy, and blisteringly hot. Vienna is buried in concrete, and yet the builders keep on drilling and hammering and making noise on every corner.

I see the point in improving things, but sometimes it feels like everyone is perpetually delaying happiness, waiting for the building work to finally be done, but it never will be.

Two days ago, my daughter got on a plane to London (to see her grandparents). In a few weeks she will visit her mother in Spain for the rest of the summer holidays. Two months sounds like a long time for a school holiday, but when you're desperate for a break, it sounds incredibly short.

Being a single parent is hard. Being a single father is just weird, at least in a culture built deep on a very patriarchal expression of Catholicism. - when people see me dadding, the first assumption is that I'm doing the optional extra bit, and never that I'm the primary caregiver.

Single mums seem to have a way of getting together and supporting each other. Men are worse at this. As males, we grow up learning that its up to us to struggle our way through our difficulties, and even after decades wishing to unpick this, it remains lodged somewhere in my psyche.

Wherever this comes from, it is not a helpful way to parent.

Hence being exhausted. Hence having spent the last two days sleeping off whatever exhaustion I could in that time, and being ready for a midsummer hibernation.

In one week, ImpulsTanz starts. On the 20th and 21st I've got a class booked with Guy Cools (Who Needs a Dramaturg Anyway) and I'm toying with the idea doing a couple of other classes too. But that feels like a million miles away. Now I need to rest.

Now I need to recouperate my energy. Gather my strength. Take things as slow as I can possibly take them and reorient myself.

For now, let me tell you this.

I will be taking a break from Substack for about a month. It might be a bit longer, it might be a bit shorter.

If you are a paid Subscriber, your Subscription will be paused as of today.

When I first started, I had a backlog of writing I didn't know what to do with, and I had a bunch of material pre-scheduled every week. At some point, that ran dry(ish) and I focused on more and more new writing.

The last couple of weeks have involved me pushing my self- imposed deadline of Friday morning - being up late on Thursday night cobbling something together.

I enjoyed the process much more when I knew I had wiggle room.

So, I will be taking a break.

In this time I will rest. I will gather my strength. And I will write. I am not saying this as a promise to you, it's more of an inevitability. If I don't write, I go insane. And in that time, I will start to get stuff scheduled so that I can focus more on the quality of my writing.

In the meantime...

I am looking forward to ImpulsTanz. I am looking forward to being inside my dancing body again. Since my dramaturgical shift it has been a relief to let go of an idea of tuning my dancing instrument, I wonder if I have overcompensated somewhat.

My soma calls to be fed kinetic food.

Did somebody say 'Hamstrings'?

Class Dismissed

You've done great! You've danced hard, rehearsed late, performed in challenging venues to challenging audiences and yet here we are. Together.

Let's take a moment to stand in a circle. Take the hands of the people next to you and close your eyes. Feel how the pulse of our electricity runs through us, in this circle. Enjoy this moment. I know its hard to say goodbye, but we'll be back in the studio together before you know it.

OK.

Open your eyes and look round. See if you can make eye contact with your fellow dancers. Oh look, the lighting technician has just joined us too - nice you're here.

Let go of your neighbours' hands.

Now hold in your hands something you want to let go of. After three we'll all throw it up in the air, and maybe someone else in the circle needs it.

Ready? One. Two. Three...

---