All I could say was "You're Welcome"

 CRAZY week! It all culminated yesterday with our two performances. Both went really well and were received warmly, regardless of snafus, like really small stages. A few minor (or major) revisions and off we went. It worked out, somehow. It always seems to even though it's impossible to see how sometimes. We were surrounded by so much love yesterday. First, performing at a wedding, such a lovely event. The bride was glowing, the guests were beautiful, the flowers placed JUST SO. Hell, even we were wearing white. And then later that night we performed at a stag and doe/ charity event. Such a great couple. And an amazing night of dance. We were not the only performers and each of them blew my mind. Particularly, the two beatboxers. I mean.. HOW THE FUCK DO THEY DO THAT?!?! We were all watching and all you could hear escape our lips were random interjections of "WHAAAAT?!" Just so unreal. The talent in that room was overwhelming. What a wicked atmosphere to spend a Saturday night in!

Here's the funny thing though. I never remember performances. I really couldn't tell you what happened during them. I have absolutely no recollection of those 4 minutes. And I have no recollection of any of my performances. No clue what my facial expression looked like. If my arms were hitting the correct counts. If I messed up (though major blunders I do recall). But literally, it all seems like a haze to me that never happened. And yet I remember in crystal clarity every moment of studio time. I'm not one of those people who needs performing. I love it, and it's fun, but it feels surreal to me. Always. I live for the studio. There's such a difference between what I do there and what I do onstage. I feel like my success in the studio and all the breakthroughs, and hours spent perfecting each moment are the antidote to the dreamlike quality that performances take on. I always feel disappointed by what I've done on stage. If only performance could take place in the studio. 

After we finished our performance though, we let loose rock star style. Dance circles, drinks and even the occasional, if regrettable, fist pump. Snooki was in evidence that evening all around us. Somehow, I didn't mind. It's been a long time since I kind of shirked responsibility that way. It was great. To just forget time for a while and have some fun. Did I actually forget how much FUN IT IS? I guess I had. 

I received such a special surprise in rehearsal today. Working with one of my solos, a very emotional one, we had spent the entire rehearsal breaking apart and reconstructing each moment in accordance to the story we wanted to tell. At the end, my student comes up to me and gives me a hug and says nothing more than "Thank you". For what, I'm not sure. At moments like this I feel like I should be the one giving thanks. Thanks for this amazing opportunity to do what I love. For working with students who take my approach and run with it. For all the amazing people and experiences I've gathered through this art. So... thanks to me are not really necessary. But all I could say was "You're welcome"