It’s taken me a while to get some rest and collect my thoughts about the events of this last weekend.

Thanks to everyone who sent along kind wishes to Lisa and me. The support of dear friends and mere acquaintances alike are truly appreciated. That’s what I love about the people in our dance community.

I’ll get right down to the nitty gritty to start with, and then spew all my opinionation and personal feelings. We did compete as a duet on Saturday at the Bellydancer of the Year competition. Did we win? No. Did we place? No. Are we disappointed. Of course. Who wouldn’t be?

I don’t care who you are… and no matter the motivations for entering a contest like this… when you put that much time, effort, and dedication into something, it’s disappointing when you don’t see a return on your investment.

That being said…

There were only 4 entries (including us) in the duet/trio category. And they were ALL good.

It’s a bit disconcerting when you walk into the dressing room and find that last year’s Bellydancer of the Year and director of last year’s Troupe of the Year happens to be competing with a partner as a duet.

Ooooookay… so pressure’s off THERE. We know, instantly, that it is HIGHLY unlikely we will take the title. (Unless they both fall flat on the stage for some unfathomable reason. What are the odds? And who would wish that on them? They’re good. Everybody knows it. Besides, they’re are DAMNED cute, and not just to look at. Sweet and wonderful, up close and personal.)

Ok… so then we look around and see the other two duets. (Oddly, there were ONLY duets this year, no trios. For the several years past that I’ve attended, there have always been trios. Guess it was just a trend this year.) Both of the other duets are… well… gorgeous young women with million dollar costumes. The young ladies that took the first runner up spot (the only other trophy/placing, because the category was so small) happened to be absolutely lovely twins.

How do you compete with that?

I will say we gave it our best, and from viewing the video, I’m not at all displeased with or ashamed of our performance. We had a solid choreography. We were well-connected mentally. Our timing and interpretation were exactly as we intended them to be. There was only one visible spot where our arms weren’t in exactly the same position. Our zills were great; as they ALWAYS are. It’s one of our strong points. We were NOT bad. We were good.

We only had a chance to see the other duet that didn’t place, and we know THEY were good, too.

There is no shame in not taking the prize when in the company of that caliber of competitors.

Thing is… it’s all subjective. There is a panel of judges, and each judge has things that he/she likes. Two of the judges very clearly did NOT like us. At least, not that much. Their scores were SIGNIFICANTLY lower, down the line, than any of the others. Do I know who they are? No. Does it matter? Not in the least. What they saw (and heard) was just not something to their liking. The rest seemed to like us just fine.

The only negative (and really, not all that negative) comments on the score sheet were from these two judges. They did not like our musical arrangement. To them, it was distracting. They didn’t like the changes, and it seems they didn’t like the way one section led into the next. Nothing to be done about that. We actually planned the music and those changes, very carefully. We purposefully didn’t dwell too long on one segment or style… because when we watch dancers, we find it boring when they go on and on in one vein for a long time. Such is life. Not everyone likes the same thing.

There have been speculations that maybe they had some preconceived notions of us due to the nature of the photo we sent in. (See my Tribe profile photo.) It definitely is NOT your ‘run-of-the-mill’ bellydancer photo. Not slick, not packaged, not princess-y. It’s actually a snapshot, taken outside a bar at our performance prior to the Solace show in Fresno. Definitely done tongue-in-cheek, and certainly meant in that spirit. So… maybe people see it… and just don’t get it. But that’s ok, too. One thing we are NOT is self-important. As for me… I am personally incapable of taking any sort of ‘serious’ photo that says… “Ah, yes… look at me… the professional bellydancer. So elegant and refined…” Just not my personality. I can’t do it.

Maybe that’s a bad thing, as far as self-promotion. Oh well.

So will we ever know why they didn’t like us enough? Probably not. Maybe we don’t have the look. Maybe being 10 – 20 years older and 10-20 pounds (or more) larger than the other competitors was a disadvantage. Maybe our choice of music just wasn’t traditional enough. Maybe our costuming wasn’t slick enough.

Doesn’t matter. We are who we are. We poured ourselves into our presentation, and it reflected our tastes and our dancing. We worked hard, and we made it there. We gave it a shot, and I like to think we gave the audience a good, enjoyable show. They were certainly noisy enough.

Like Forrest Gump…. that’s all I have to say about that.

As for the rest of the pageant… it’s always a great show. Being behind the scenes for a change really hit home just how much work these people do to get this show up and running. They are dedicated, professional, and really… quite wonderful. They demonstrate concern not only for the production and the interests of the show, but for all the dancers and the experience they have. After… what is it… 30-some years … they definitely have a system that works, but they aren’t averse to updating and improving upon it. My hat’s off to everyone involved.

Now… on to my impressions of the soloist category. From the preliminaries through the finals, it was several hours of VERY enjoyable dancing. Those women, every single one, gave outstanding perfromances. A favorite of mine that did not make it to the finals was… I think… Henni ( not sure if I spelled that right). She happened to be the first person to dance, and that is a VERY unenviable position to have. But I still remember her, even after seeing the stellar performances of the finals. Come back, Henni, whoever you are… do it again! Don’t give up, because I think you’re cool.

Ok, so my picks, going into the finals, were Ahava, Nadira, Sandra, Chris! … everyone else was… in my opinion, at about the same level, as far as my enjoyment in watching them. (As I said, it was an awesome show.)

I have to say my hands-down favorite of the weekend was Ahava. I thought she was phenomenal on Saturday… but then I saw her performance on Sunday. This is not an exaggeration… I wept while she was dancing. She was absolutely one of the most beautiful things I have EVER seen. Her interpreation was, for me, perfect. Her timing was flawless, and I just… well, I felt something really wonderful coming off that stage. She had a presence that absolutely filled that auditorium. Goosepimples. Some people said she didn’t smile enough… but you know, she didn’t need to. No need for that sometimes-pasted-on smile. She was regal, and she was gorgeous. If it had been my choice, she would have walked away as the uncontested winner. I hope I get to see her dance again some time.

My other favorites were Nadira and Sandra. Sandra is a technical wonder, and Nadira is just downright gorgeous in movement and in form. Nadira blew my socks off on Saturday, but was not QUITE as wonderful on Sunday. (Still wonderful, though.) Sandra performed consistently… she’s fantastic… and, well, her look, and choice of costuming, appeals to me.

Regardless… all the competitors were a class act. It was a TRULY great show, as an audience member. I don’t know how the judges do it.

A quick note, as well, about this year’s Grand Dancer, Thia. I am so impressed with this woman. Observing her prior to performance, I found her to be a poised, beautiful, gracious, classy lady… and when I finally got to see her encore performance on Sunday, she blew me away. (Despite technical difficulties with her music… WHICH, I might add, she handled with aplomb and professionalism. WHAT a woman!) Yet another example that a mature woman cannot be counted out, when it comes to this dance. Not when you have as much talent as that woman has in her little toe. It gives me hope. I wouldn’t mind at ALL being like her when I grow up as a dancer.

One last thought before I put the weekend behind me and forge ahead through my own personal trials to come this summer.

I have to applaud all the competitors that shared the dressing room the day I was in there. One may think that getting a group of talented, driven and competitive women together would be a recipe for disaster. That was absolutely not the case in my experience. Everyone was gracious, kind, and friendly, even. While I did see some lost in concentration and focus, no one was cranky, no one tried to undermine the spirits of anyone else. I saw many smiles, good-natured laughter, and genuine care.

Again… that is the BEST of our dance community, and every one of those people should be held up as an example of how to behave in the company of fellow dancers.

So. Congratulations to the award winners. Thanks to the pageant organizers.

And many, many thanks to my dance partner. We worked hard together. We worked very WELL together. I am forever grateful for the experience, for the things I have learned from her, for the confidence in me that she has shown. I am honored to have been her partner. I am honored to be her friend.

Now…. onward.

Off to compete.

Yikes.

Never done anything like this before. Should be fun, whatever the outcome.

But my foot hurts. THAT’s not going to help.

However, I will dance on it even if it feels like it’s going to explode.

Then I’ll collapse and take drugs after.

We’ve worked too hard and too long on this to not do it just because the foot I broke 7 years ago has decided to not play nice.

So, as I said…

heeeeeeeere we go! (Wish us luck!)

In… OH so many ways.

Stream of consciousness impressions from a wonderful (and much-needed) weekend.

Thank you, Lydia and Yasmine the Destroyer (also very exclusively known as L.P.P. to the privileged), for dragging me along to T.F. 6, putting up with me, and indulging my vacillations between cluelessness and opinionated commentary. You can’t know how I appreciate the kindness.

I think this blog may resemble something like “What I did for my summer vacation.” Boring to the reader. Read on, if you dare. I’m about to spew some brain vomit.

FRIDAY

Ok, so 5 hours in the car MIGHT have been bad, except when you’re in a car with a couple people you like, admire, respect, get along with, and generally find entertaining… ‘t ain’t s’ bad.

“Here’s a toll bridge… is there supposed to be a bridge on this trip? I didn’t think we’re supposed to go over a bridge. Well… we’re going over a bridge….”

There was supposed to be a bridge. We got there.

Rainy, wet, chilly… and me lookin’ all funny walking into TF with my Melodia’s tied up above my ankles. The cool kids arrive with the dork patrol in their wake.

First impression: It’s like Rakkassah, except without the frenetic vibe overlaying everything. Instead of the feeling that there’s too much, and there’s just no way I’ll ever take it all in, and that for some reason I have to… there’s the feeling of… hmmm… abundance. There IS just a seemingly unlimited experience to be had here… but instead of feeling like I had to grab and run on to the next thing, it’s more like… you’ll get there. Enjoy the ride, baby, because it’ll be a good one… and go home with whatever you’ve managed to ingest.

So now I’m in the door. The colors, sights, sounds, and smells are, of course, a FEAST for the senses. What vendor should I pore over first? The one thing I noticed immediately, as we browsed, was the greatly reduced amount of cheezy bellydance merchandise. Nearly everything seemed as though it would be relevant to SOMEbody, rather than just another item produced and sold without much thought to whether anybody would REALLY be interested in such a thing. So that was refreshing.

Ahem.

I GOT TO SEE PRINCESS FARHANA DO BURLESQUE!

Wowee!

If I could figure out how to conjure up even a fraction of the way that woman commands that stage, invites all eyes to feast upon her, and then TEASES them for doing it, I’d consider myself a performer.

The gleam in the eye, the playfulness… Makes ya wanna be her… for even just a minute. Makes ya wanna not care ‘what the neighbors would think’ for just a little while. “Here’s me, damn it… Want to see it? Do ya, punk? Huh? Take that! SO there!”

I’ve seen her in a beautiful cabaret bellydancer performance, and I’ve seen the saucy burlesque performance. She’s just a damned talented woman with a personality that owns the room. I love it. She made my night.

As for the other performances I saw… I don’t remember a WHOLE lot about Friday, except the Bollywood at the end. Fantastic… and I was exhausted by the time it was over, just from watching. Good stuff. It had been a LONG week (or two), a long day, a long drive, and then absorbing everything that evening… well, there was a lot to take in.

I will say this: I have heard it said that Tribal Bellydance and Tribal Fusion are boring. Once you’ve seen a couple performances, you’ve seen what can be done. (I’ve never personally thought this, btw.) What I saw on that first night completely refutes that opinion. I would almost go so far as to say there is possibly MORE variety in the Tribal Bellydance world than there is in the ‘traditional’ cabaret raqs world. From costuming, to choice of music, to theme of the performance, to fusion with all SORTS of different ideas… the viewer is NOT going to get bored. Some ideas may rock your socks, some may not work quite as well, but the variety keeps the stage visually interesting as performance after performance crosses the boards.

Another thing I noticed: I am a shameless eavesdropper. I like to know what other people are talking about, and what other people are thinking, especially as a spectator at this sort of event. At NO point did I hear snarky, catty, scathing remarks. Sure, here and there I heard people commenting about something that they didn’t like, or that they didn’t understand… but everything that was said was more of the “Well, it’s not for me, maybe I’d do it differently, and good for them for doing it…” variety, rather than the overtly critical and judgemental things I’ve heard at other events.

So kudos to the Tribal community as a whole for behaving as such.

The evening ended. Off to find the motel. Thus began the adventure of looking for the exit that didn’t exist. (Well, it didn’t exist until we were on our way home Sunday and saw the sign, big as life, as we drove south toward home. “TODD ROAD EXIT”)

Gas station, purchase of map, dinner at neighboring IHOP… and speculation as to where we were going and how to get there.

We got there.

And eventually fell asleep.

Oh yeah… I got GREAT big, round earrings that say ‘Leo’ on them. They’re groovy.

SATURDAY

Then we woke up. Kinda late. The Tanjorans would be performing, so more preparation was needed before going out the door. Makeup and hair were applied, they looked great. I was my mundane dorky self. But we got there, eventually.

And today, the outdoor vendors were ALLLL set up! And… right there, as we walked up, were both the Melodia and Phoenix Rising booths. Screw the dancing! I have PANTS to try on in a little tent full of women, all frantically tugging on the garments that make everybody look like a delicious, curvy cross between a mermaid and Morticia Addams.

Yeah. So several hundred dollars and 5 pairs later (SOMEbody needs to line up a few gigs for herself now.) … I managed to tear myself away from THAT little corner of the world…

And proceeded to walk across and find Kathleen Crowley and the magical creations of costuming that SHE had hanging about. Another couple hundred dollars later I was the proud owner of a sage green silk ghawazee coat… but I couldn’t have it right away, as it was going to be worn in a fashion show later that day. And would I like to come back and put on some clothes and model in her fashion show? Uh….. HUH? Ok… I guess….

Maybe it was the ethereal, bewildered and overwhelmed expression I kept wearing that made it seem I’d look ok in the clothes. (The clothes aren’t bewildered or overwhelmed, but definitely ethereal and absolutely beautiful.) Or maybe it was just because they were all just really nice and I had just spent a lot of money, and couldn’t have my coat until after the fashion show, and they knew I might want to keep an eye on my silk treasure until I could have it.

I wandered off to shop some more, watch some more dancing, and was able to catch Unmata doing their thing and loving it. Because, well, Unmata…. they’re the cool kids. And everybody knows it.

So… I came back a few hours later, cinched myself into a gorgeous black and red number that had me wondering if the sage green was the right choice, because IT was so pretty, too (not to mention my boobs looked GREAT in this baby. Seriously, if you want to flatter your figure, wear something this woman has made. I digress.) Music played, models went up on stage and danced… models went up on stage and posed…. I went up on stage and was a dork… more models went up on stage and danced….

It was fun. What a wild thing to have happen to a non-tribal dancer at her first Tribal Fest experience. Sooo… thanks Kathleen Crowley and crew for including me, being kind, and making my weekend just that much more of an adventure.

And I don’t even have any pictures to prove it happened. But it did. Now go find this woman and buy pretty things from her, because I’m telling you, you will NOT be disappointed. Every single thing that those models were wearing was amazing and elegant. (And respect to the woman who went bare under the muslin gown -the dress that’s in a picture in Kathleen’s tribe profile – to model on stage. You’re a goddess, you looked amazing.)

This is the designer on Tribe: Kathleen Crowley

And holy cats! That’s the sage silk coat I bought in a picture on her profile. I’m wishing I’d had enough money to get the paisley one you see layered under it there. It’s perty, too.

So that was fun. Then it was time to go indoors and take up position by Lydia’s camera. They all had to go get ready to dance, and SOMEbody needed to be there to make sure the previous acts would be filmed, and that THEY would be filmed while dancing.

I got to see, oh… so much really great dancing. Blue Damsel with Solace… so beautiful, like… sighing wistfully kind of beautiful…. Rachel Brice, of course, was unbelievably wonderful, and made it look effortless… which we know it isn’t. Black Sheep Bellydance were so much fun to watch…I’d never seen them before…

Then Tanjora danced. I was so proud! I don’t even dance with them… but their show was beautfiul. And they’re from Fresno. How could I not be so very, very proud? I have a great deal of respect for this group of dancers, and never tire of being around them or seeing them do what they do. It went by so fast, I felt like there wasn’t enough.

(And Michelle… I want my comb back. I’m glad it helped you get ready to perform, but it’s my favorite wide-toothed, non-static producing comb. I’m having comb separation anxiety. I could die without my comb. Not that you’ll ever read this… but still. I…. I miss my comb.)

Then I got to see Urban Tribal… omg… and then Kassar…. omg …. and Colleena…. HOLY CATS! No words to describe any of these, except “Wow.” Awe.

And then Kashmir Dance Company took the stage. They rocked… and it was the second time I had seen them, but this time more close-up. They’re really wonderful. You can’t watch Kashmir dance and not comment on Maren. That child is going to be one AMAZING dancer as she gets older. She already is. She ‘gets it’… she feels the rhythm, she understands the movements… and she may not have ALL the choreography down… but she follows extremely well, and… hey… she’s a gorgeous kid, to boot. Look out world. So, that was a joy to watch… a group of women who share that love of dancing together, and who share it even with a little girl. (Another validation of the whole Tribal dance ‘vibe’. They’re not the only group who does that with a very young dancer.)

I stepped away (had to use the facilities and get some food before I fainted after all this excitement) so I missed inFusion…

but I was back for Sashi. I have to comment on her performance. I am a personally conservative individual. I have no interest in tattoos, piercings, or other such adornments for myself. I have only passing interest in ‘alternative’ lifestyle choices, but I also make it a point not to judge people on the things that enhance and enrich their lives. This performance was preceded by a very elegantly worded and kindly conveyed caution about the nature of the performance, calling to attention that it involved pierced wings, and it also explained the intent with which it was done. This is the absolute epitome of class. (And many could learn such social responsibility and professionalism.) The performance itself was lovely, tasteful, refined, and mesmerizing. In all, I was impressed, and walked away with an overall impression of beauty… not shock or discomfort, which it could EASILY have been, given that this was a person with metal rods in the shape of wings piercing the skin of her back. I was impressed, and am grateful to have been able to see it done… and done so respectfully, so well.

More dancing… all of it wonderful… if I comment on everything I saw… I’d never stop typing.

Then after THAT….

Off to the event to benefit the Rom of Kosovo…. We managed to find the place without too much trouble… went in, got treated to some FUN live music and a room full of people line dancing. (At this point I was swiftly reverting to a sort of trance-like state where I could only focus on one thing at a time… and I HAD to figure out the steps of the line dance. Didn’t take long, but I was obsessed, staring through a forest of legs at the feet of people who really seemed to know what they were doing.) What a room full of enjoyment that was. Then the band came off the stage, still playing mind you, and went outside and disappeared. Everyone trooped outside, and waited… then around the corner of the building came the band again, playing… with dancers bearing torches. The dancers took up a circle within the crowd, and we were treated to a WONDERFUL fire dancing show, right there in front of the building. I have pictures, though most of them didn’t come out great…

the dancers… some of the Black Sheep dancers and this guy:

Riz

It was all just… too wonderful.

Tina decided, at that point, she NEEDED to have yet another sword (to add to an ever-growing collection) that she could balance while flaming. And that fire belt we saw… that was pretty cool as well. Oh yes.

Then the hunger set in… we’d had the Mezza plate, but we need more. So it was off to find Denny’s, eat mini-cheesburgers and dessert, and then back to the motel.

Coma babies.

SUNDAY

“Oh shit, I’ve spent too much this weekend…I’m so broke!” Ah, the lament of anyone spending the weekend at an event like this.

And yet… we shopped. And watched more dancing. And browsed. And Tina ended up with the very sword that had been used the night before… the same sword which inspired her to balance a flaming sword on her head. Fearless, formidable, crazy woman that she is. It was fate, of a kind. Aaaaand… I think Fresno is going to be seeing the use of a snazzy fire belt… very soon. Maybe… oh… next Tuesday? If not then… certainly at some point after that.

Wandering, shopping, watching, chatting, laughing, giggling… winding down from an eventful weekend. Sunday at Tribal Fest was just as fun as the other days, but much more laid back.

Then the drive home… and dinner at Pea Soup Andersen’s…

Laughing at things that probably weren’t all that funny, but we thought they were, because we were tired, and a little punch drunk on the whole essence of the weekend.

Thank you, Lydia, for extending the opportunity to me. Thank you both Tina and Lydia, for making me feel so welcome. Your company is always warm and real. Your friendships mean a great deal to me.

Whew.

I needed that. I REALLY needed that.

1. “I’m gonna pump you fulla lead!”

2. “Give me a stiff one, barkeep!”

3. “Don’t fret—I’ve been in tight spots before.”

4. “Howdy, pardner.”

5. You stay here while I sneak around from behind.”

6. Two words: “Saddle Sore.”

7. “Hold it right there! Now, move your hand, reeeal
slow-like.”

8. “Let’s mount up!”

9. “Nice spread ya got there!”

10. “Ride’em cowboy!”

(Photo NOT intended to be confused with the movie of two words in its title that changed the way we look at the above phrases…)

I get to go, after all.

I’m not even a Tribal dancer, but I’m going to Tribal Fest.

Hallelulah for small miracles… and people named Lydia.

A weekend of watching cool people do cool dancing, and looking at cool merchandise…

And then there are the Melodia pants… Oh. Mommy. If they have the peacock Phoenix Melodias… I may have to sell my body (or something even more valuable) to pay for a pair.

I get to hang out with the cool kids! I get to hang out with the cool kids! And forget my shit. For THREE days.

Thank God.

Interesting.

So here’s what I’d like to see someone do.

Write a story, and center the ENTIRE thing around product placements. Every item that is used as the characters go about the business of doing whatever it is they have purpose to do… make sure each product is clearly defined.

And then… instead of sending the story off to publishers… send it off to the companies whose products are featured.

Oh yeah… open up an ENTIRE new publishing industry! Just THINK of the money to be made off of this…

Instead of the Da Vinci code… it could be… oh, I don’t know. Come up with something. A mystery hidden in a box of cereal… or on a soup can… or at a series of chain restaurants….

The possibilities are limitless.

Wait. Ok, but if you do it, I want a kickback. It’s MY idea.

Show me the money.

As has been said, very pointedly (and accurately), recently…

I am out of my goddamned mind.

Some are bearing more the brunt of that than others, but no one has been safe.

For that reason, I’m going to effect a withdrawal of sorts. I think it’s time to keep my head down, put the blinders on, and focus on the things I need to accomplish immediately. I’m going to consciously try to ignore all the rest. I hope, when I look up, all the rest will still be there. That would be… really nice.

I just can’t try to maintain it, because I do not have the internal resources to manage that appropriately. So far I’ve been making messes rather than doing anything useful. Destructive, not constructive. Bad.

Time to quit spinning my wheels with all the frustration, anger, sorrow and confusion I’m feeling. Time to put all that energy to work.

So. I compete in less than 2 weeks. After that, I figure out how to have enough money to rent an apartment and feed myself over the next year or so. I can’t look any farther than that. It’s too overwhelming.

If I am distant to friends, I apologize. If I am insane to to some, I apologize for that as well.

I am tired, because I can’t sleep. I am more frightened than I have ever been. Through those lenses, everything is magnified and distorted beyond all semblance of reality.

Because of that, I need to look only at what is directly in front of me, and stop trying to look into the distance through the ‘crazy glasses’.

At various points, maybe the fog will lift, maybe I can lift my head and look around, and even smile.

I’m not ‘gone’. I’m not ‘away’. I’m just driven to distraction. I’m still here, God damn it. I am STILL here.

Now, if I can just make myself believe in the significance of that, I’ll get somewhere.

It’s about net neutrality, folks.

Please look into it.

My daughter has note paper with this image watermarked on it. Today, she wrote a poem for me.

this is you
prettyer than a rose
not a thing wrong with your nose,
you look just like a fairy
but your alergic to dairy

Tee hee

So… If you’re a mom, or you have have a mom, have a good Mother’s Day.

My daughter has note paper with this image watermarked on it. Today, she wrote a poem for me.

this is you
prettyer than a rose
not a thing wrong with your nose,
you look just like a fairy
but your alergic to dairy

Tee hee

So… If you’re a mom, or you have have a mom, have a good Mother’s Day.