Eleven Spa Campers from TCI Hospitality Adventure filed into the studio overlooking the same lush mangroves that continue to take my breath away, even after ten months of teaching here in Turks & Caicos. They, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the picturesque view, the refreshing cross breeze flowing through the open sliding glass doors, or the perfectly designed environment for cultivating a mind-body connection. Teenagers!
Living in Turks & Caicos has inspired me to see nature through the eyes of a child again. I see clouds shaped liked dogs and dragons. I count stars and make wishes on them. I dream of lounging on crescent moons. And I listen to the secrets of trees as their leaves rustle through the wind.
The pop of a champagne cork in the quiet of a secluded beach. A toast to another year of love as the sun traces a brilliant path along the still, aquamarine water and tucks itself behind the clouds. The gentle caress of the heat at dusk as the powdery cool sand embraces our feet. A celebratory kiss.
When it comes to art, I LURVE witnessing the genius of creative thinkers, innovators and doers who choose not to conform to current standards but set new ones. And I get so inspired by artists who are willing to sacrifice their egos by challenging status quo, thinking outside the box and taking risks. The kind of artists motivated by passion rather than popularity.
As I sat in the tiny black box theater at The Producer's Club watching my old friend, Lori Sommer, perform her one-woman show for an intimate crowd, I realized this: You can sometimes know someone for years without ever fully knowing their "story"; the volume of life experiences that shape their character, personality, fears and dreams. Sometimes the success you see has been molded by adversity and their own resilience after deep hurt or trauma.
I was PMSing and quickly getting sucked into a "woe-is-me" attitude. All I wanted was a pity party for one, complete with red wine, dark chocolate and freshly popped popcorn to soothe my soul. The thought of putting on an emotional mask to go out into public felt exhausting. But I'd already purchased a ticket to see "Break Through" presented by Pole Speak at Body & Pole.
This Indie Girl needed a bat cave. A sexy hideaway to swirl whiskey around my tongue, rendezvous with my thoughts and avail myself to coy flirtation. An unpretentious spot to reminisce over the curated sounds of old school hip-hop, soul and R&B; the unforgettable hits that served as the soundtrack of my life.
Six fearless and powerful dancers articulated my story with unflinching emotion through ingeniously conceived weavings of contemporary dance and the added element of four vertical poles which became animate representations of the dancer's own personal struggles, their source of longing, or their hope.
I'm attracted to talent. Especially raw, uninhibited talent. In fact, there's no greater turn-on for me than to observe an artist completely absorbed in the process of their own creativity. And after watching MeShell Ndegeocello do her thaaang at the Highline Ballroom which borders NYC's pulsating Meatpacking District, I think I'm in love.
I'd just stuffed myself at Empanada Mama and decided to walk through Times Square to get to my much needed calorie-burning Redcord class. After dodging Elmo, Hello Kitty, the naked cowboy plus the sidewalk-barricading, sky-scraper gawking, GAP-wearing tourists; I found respite in Bryant Park. And in an instant I became the tourist. In my own city!
I rolled outta bed at the ungodly hour of 6am for a 7:45am call-time at ABC Studios to be an audience member at Live With Kelly. I felt groggy but nonetheless excited for this particular Indie Date because it seems like forever since last being on a TV set. Fun! But all that excitement diminished as the day proceeded and I began to feel more like an unpaid extra rather than someone there to be entertained.
I traveled to the far flung edges of NYC's west side, traversing avenue blocks in the cold only to have my very existence questioned at The Kitchen. "World of Wires" created a multi-media, "big brother is watching"-ish theater experience that confronted me with questions like: Am I truly human? Or am I a mere test subject in a scientific computer simulation of earth-scale proportions? Is my life simply an experiment conducted by some post-human civilization studying our less evolved human behavior and emotion? And can I blame a computer glitch for this insane compulsion of mine to divulge my life experiences and dirty little secrets on the worldwide web in the form of a diary; thereby relieving savvy post-human scientists the arduous task of recording their findings about flawed behavioral patterns and their consequences?
This was definitely worth the $15 ticket price and the schlep to BAM Rose Cinemas in Fort Green, Brooklyn. It's elegant architecture, spotless theater and delicious popcorn offered a comfy and spohisticated IndieDate night for an indie film buff like myself. PINA, a feature-length dance film in 3D with the ensemble of the Tanztheater Wuppertal, created such a vivid experience of texture, color, emotion, feeling, facial expression, simple gesture and explosive movement. It was as if I were onstage with the dancers, feeling everything they were feeling. I experienced the intensity of their longing, sadness, anger, pain, joy and whimsy as much as the environmental props (water, dirt, grass) that were intricately weaved into their storytelling.
This small cast of 7 performers (6 guys, 1 girl) left no trace of being mere mortals like the rest of us. These athletes/acrobats/dancers/artists push themselves physically beyond what seems humanly possible. In fact, I think they just may be the forgotten mutants from the X-Men series. Whatever their reason for being so insanely gifted, fearless and sculpted to physical perfection, I couldn't help but think that these people have absolutely no problems getting laid! (insert twinge of jealousy).
Talent has always been a major turn-on for me. It even has the power to bump someone up from a “7” in appearance straight up to a “10” and make me feel unworthy of their love. This is true of the Off-Broadway sensation, "Voca People" at The Westside Theater in Times Square. I could care less that these "Voca People" are odd-looking aliens having just arrived on planet Earth via space ship.
I had just enjoyed a cocktail at Blue Smoke which I thought would be the perfect foreplay for popping my cherry at the Museum of Sex. But I hadn’t even made my way through the museum boutique before my heart started racing and my palms started to sweat. There I was, all hot and bothered, amongst a sea of couples engaged in PDA.
Fuerza Bruta provides a highly visceral, atypical theater experience featuring nymph-like ladies swimming in a transparent pool suspended overhead, a treadmill built for five that catapults performers over the edge and a billowing metallic-silver curtain that instantly transforms the theater into a futuristic space.
