*Grumble…grumble* Where’s my check?!

Stack Of Cash

I feel as though I’ve been duped. Like I’ve been had. Been took. Bamboozled. Led astray. Run amuck. I didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on me!

Waaaaaay back in the 90’s when I was a fresh faced, wide-eyed young, college student, I made the decision to become a dance major. I knew then that this was a very non-traditional life path. I knew then that there would be nowhere near the job security that I would have gotten had I stayed in computer science.

But, hey! We were living in the Clinton Administration! There was still the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), the Philadelphia Dance Alliance (PDA), and all sorts of other opportunities for a young artist such as myself to present work in front of a real, live audience and even (gasp) get money for it!

So what did I do? I started a dance company, started working on a repertoire and set off into the world with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree clutched in my hot little hand to seek my fortune as it were.

Many bumps along the road later, I learned that it’s not just hard out here for a pimp!

I never fit a niche because I didn’t subscribe to just one school of thought exclusively. When being a black dancer was “in” I was being dark and “goth.” When queer artists were in, I was in my postmodern phase. Performance art is in? I’m all about the technique.

I could never time myself properly to become the flavor of the month.

Fast forward to now. Funding for the arts, especially dance is all but gone. I’m getting older, wiser and not a little discouraged.

While teaching eleven thousand classes at eleven thousand studios, schools, community centers and the like was cute, fabulous, fun and fierce when I was in my twenties…well….I’m damn near forty now and a bitch is TIRED!

Now, I’m not saying that I’ve lost my passion for the arts and creating and all of that. Because I definitely haven’t. But, I’m too old to be a bohemian. Check that. I’m too old to be a bohemian and it still be cute.

So, don’t be surprised if you don’t see me as often as you once did. It’s going to have to be quality over quantity of time spent. Because I’m stepping out of the spotlight for a spell while I retool, reboot, revamp and generally get my shit together.

Some may call it going on hiatus. Except I’ll still be creating. Some may call it growing up…maybe. What do I call it? Ummm…a bitch wants to know what it’s like to have money that isn’t accrued by the hour and a half.

I’ll let you know how that goes.

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