On Being a Razor Babe. . .

I'm not sure exactly how I fell into this group of people.  It all seems like a blur when I think back.  But, after tonight there is no denying that I am a Razor Babe.

I guess it started with Sandra Hunter and my need to do something other than dance.  But, I never suspected it to go this far.  I mean. . .  A poetry performance group?

I never dreamt in a million years. And, yet, here I am, having completed my very first debut performance as a Razor Babe. 

We performed tonight at the Artists Union Gallery in Ventura. You could feel the damp ocean air and smell the briny tide at the door only a stone's throw from the surf.  There we were, in our new Razor Babe t-shirts, with our Razor Babe Chapbook, and videographers and photographers and me!

Surreal to say the least.  Of course performance in nothing new for me, but this venue, this format is very different. I am used to a world of movement, music, lighting, costumes and dance. This performance was about baring you soul as is no persona, no illusions, no tricks.  Pure. Simple. Human.

Yes, we perform poems, but I learned tonight that we are more than poets, we are storytellers.  There was something about our performance that made me feel connected to ancient civilizations.  Just as the orators of ancient Greece and Rome told their stories, we were telling ours. Words put together to create new worlds. I felt the Razor Babes transporting the audience to and from these worlds of  hopes, dreams, desires, and tragedies.  Moments of hysteria, laughter, excitement and poignancy wrapped up into one amazing trip.

We were telling our stories, yes, but I couldn't help but feel we were telling everyone's story. The story of being human, one poem at a time. A kaleidoscope of images and sense memories.  This ancient art of storytelling, engaging in who we are what we share, intoxicates me. 

Standing at the back and looking at the group, in our matching shirts with the edgy razor blade logo, I couldn't help but think: what a motley crew we are.  A mishmash of ages, races, stories, lives.  But, we come together and all of that disappears as create a safe space to share our poems and stories with each other and with the world. 

I am a member of a precious tribe of artists. 

I am a Razor Babe.

Here is our write up in the Ventura County Star:
http://m.vcstar.com/news/2012/mar/29/razor-babes-present-an-evening-of-interactive-3/

For more on Sandra Hunter's Workshops and Razor Babe events:
http://www.sandra-hunter.com/

First World Problems: Stealing

Stealing sucks.  

Over the weekend, while I was in Fresno with my dance company, my car window was smashed and the thief took my backpack (containing my month old MacBook Pro, iPad, iPod nano and video camera) and my bag full of props (big bells, tap shoes, costume bits etc.) for our show.  

It sucked.  But, I found myself responding my repeating this mantra over and over:

 "It is just stuff. I am healthy and safe, my loved one's are healthy and safe and in general things are ok. This is just a first world problem not the end of the world"

I was on my way to teach a master dance class, so I actually went with a couple dancers while the others did costume and prop recognizance.  I was shaken, but I didn't cry.  I got to the studio explained why I was late and began the class. 

"Lie down on the floor and notice your breath. Arrive fully in this moment. . . "  

Admittedly I was saying it for myself as much as I was for them. But I did realize that in that moment everything was fine. I was safe and healthy doing something I love.  Yes, I was going to have to deal with the sh*tty aspect of filing a police report and getting a new computer and spending $3,000 more dollars to replace things I has just purchased in January.  But, in that teaching moment, everything was just as it needed to be.  The students were lying on the wooden floor, breathing, noticing, observing and experiencing.  

The class went well better than I expected under the circumstances, and when I got back to the house at which we were staying, I learned my friend's husband had already taken my car to get the window fixed and the dancers had managed to find or purchase nearly all the needed props.  

The show that day went brilliantly. We rallied and the ensemble was the strongest it has ever been. It was a fantastic show and we managed to get it on tape so hopefully I will have something to post on YouTube soon!   

Of course, I was emotionally spent from the whole event and feeling awfully guilty and embarrassed for having left the computer and prop bags in the car at all.   But, I felt so honored that those around me came to my aid with such love and compassion  My dancers and my dear friend Cristal whose house we were staying at managed to take care of virtually everything.

I tried to leave money on the counter to pay Cristal and her husband back for all they bought and paid for, but upon leaving the city found the same wad of cash nestled in the center console of my car. Similarly, I was given an envelop containing another handful of $20's from the students and their families.  I was overwhelmed with their generosity.

I realize that I am loved.  

I have spent the last three days processing the whole event. Buying a new computer (which I am typing on right now), a new iPad and trying to reclaim data from my external hard drive. And, I keep repeating "This is just a first world problem. . . " 

 I feel like I am almost put back together.  Emotionally and logistically.  But I could not have done it alone.

With deep gratitude and appreciation to all who cam to my aid,

Beth

PS  The computer is now listed as "nando's macBook" in Selma on find my iPhone.  And, I tell you if my mom ever gets to Selma and find's "nando" that guy better watch out because my mom is raving mad and I wouldn't put it past her to do some serious damage. 

This picture is from "Belle of the Bowl". The crazy big ass bell was stolen in the prop bag and will be sorely missed.  I can't imagine what the thieves thought when they opened our bag and found that!