I’m sitting in the cafe and the sun is shining so brightly I’m having a hard time seeing the computer screen.   I think its the only time I shun the sun.  The cafe is a gallery too,  “Caution Kid” is the exhibit in residence for the moment.  Large intricate wall hangings made with caution tape and and an exacto knife.  Expensive and square.  The wailings of a french pop group quirk above the whirr of the espresso machine, the song is familiar.  I had to think about it for a minute but then I remember. I danced for someone once that used it in a piece when I first moved to town. 

      My reason for coming to this place is the windows and wifi.  Huge great windows that face the street.  The sun really does illuminate the people in Seattle.  I see them walk by recharged.  Almost innocent and open, like somehow vitamin D might actually cancel out the passive aggressive gene so many Seattleites posess – at least for a few months.  Among the window fodder was a lady in her mid 30’s with blond pigtails eating an ice cream cone as big as her head.  Loved it.  The hipsters skateboard by instead of loading gear into the dark practice rooms below.  Spotted Dan Savage at the table next to me.  His podcast and column have made me laugh attrociously and inappropriately in public for the last two years. I should have told him, but since he was busy getting a parking ticket, I opted out.  The cops are relentless lately.  I guess that’s how they can afford the Segways that each of them seems to be on.  I’ve never seen so many tickets and chalked tires.  That evil marker.

        Metaphorically speaking,  who’s been chalking my tires lately?  Have I been here too long? Am I accomplishing enough? What is my purpose and am I  happy enough?   Am I creating art as an individual that I believe in and identify with? Is my footprint on world something I endorse? Does life experience drive a Segway and hand out tickets?

      I was in a bar last night. It was the first bar I worked at in Seattle. The staff is different, changed five times at least, the bar is different, most likely for the better.  I’ve worked there three years ago.  Three years?  Jesus! Time flies.  It only feels like it was a year ago.  I sat on my tall chair and inhaled hummus and cucumbers waiting for the rest of my people from the Gypsy Mansion show.  I chatted with the sweet bartender, we bonded over our mutualities concerning the establishment.  Humanwine and Willow showed up and we imbibed.  Holly and I chatted about our well to do artistic childhoods and how we chose alternative  paths to create something we could believe in.  New things in an old space, that will get my brain pan circling.  I’m always concerned with my revolutions in a space.  Each new turn should add another layer, bring insight,  leave a marker.  When that doesn’t happen I start to freak out. Then the freak out itself gives me the kick I need to shift again.  I’m in process in my life now.  I always am.  I’m working on creating “homes”.  Places that are always there for me to dance, work, sing and express who I am as an artist, not only as a performer.  I want to build things from my imagination in copacetic spaces that are consistent.  I’m excited about Splinter Dance Company.  Its formation is new,  we are currently a board of four women. Conceiving a new idea and creating a place for repertory, educators and dancers to thrive  and find family and evolution.  I have so many dance pieces in mind that I have been dying to get out of my head. 

              They are my markers.  The chalk on my tires.

-Finn