ex girlfriends

ON December 19th, i wrote on my facebook status the following:

i love femmes. forever and always. will not put up with the dismissal of ideas, comments, questions or my lived experience as solely an excess of emotion. i feel, yes. i also think. those things are not mutually exclusive. various forms of intelligence, do enrich one another. so to any close minded person like this wack ex of mine im telling off via email right now... a paragraph full of well thought out questions warrants a response more than i know how you are feeling one line response. fuckk yall femme haters go get some fucking training get aware of your fucked up masculine fuckedupness im done peace

47 friends of mine liked it, and it got 20 comments.

Far more activity than my usual posts

It gives me strength. to know that people love and support me. So i don't need to question my self when i get more negative words from this very wack ex my mine. Here is how the dialogue leading to this post evolved, and how it ended today. This is a 'to the point,' vulgar rendition including the most important quotes:

Wack Ex: Hi. I want to reconnect with you when I'm back in town. Would you like to have lunch?

Katrina D: Okay, sure. Lets

** i have a revealation... i don't have to just go along with what she wants. I don't trust her, things didn't end well, so let me check in to see whats up.***

KD: Actually... "I've been reconnecting with various past people in my life and I think its good to take a deep consideration of where we are at before creating what might be an awkward situation." why do you want to reconnect, why now, do you feel like lunch is what you really want to do, or is it just some kind of thing to catch up? etc, etc

WE: I see how you are feeling. Lets meet later if thats what you want.

KD: Don't make this about me. Lets meet when you are ready to answer my questions.

WE: I didn't answer your questions because I didn't think it was necessary. I don't share your concerns.

KD: My questions are Legitimate. WTF (i create fb status while skyping with my dear friend)... this is fucked up. I will not tolerate this shit.

WE: "don't accuse me of ignoring you or confusing you. on my end, i've been pretty clear. weird or awkward, it happens katrina, there's no need to dig deep in the banal scenario of ex's getting together and things being kinda weird. in the emails you have sent me, it is apparent that a lot of our failure to communicate lies on me, burdened on me. i really encourage you to reassess that view point and reflect on how your communication style can impact and dominate."

KD: "I cannot Educate you. Fortunately you are in school. I encourage you take a course on feminism. Take a course on masculinity. Read about gaslighting. Thats what you are doing. Goodluck."

WE: "katrina, i stand by my words, and your accusations that i am gaslighting you- victimizing you, hurts me. it's clear that we cannot form any healthy relationship. and it's really, really insulting. your flippant accusation is not something i am taking lightly, at all. in my email, i was just asking you to reflect on your communication.

i cannot deal with this crap.

i meant to say it last time but instead i just deleted her msg. but this time i said it. please do not email me a response.

the end.

poetic revelations

giving is not the same as doing

Artist and Entrepreneur Panel at LMCC

Highlights:

Time is your only non-renewable resource

Interactions and relationships with people is business, just as much as legal issues and money, if not more

Money is not always what you need. Often what you need more is service or skills to share.

The worth or value of something is subjective. A Barter system is a way to negotiate one on one the value, monetarily, in terms of time used to create, etc.

Deeper meaning is felt outside of the monetary exchange system.

FUCKING WISDOM

LIVING YOUR VALUES IS SEXY AS SHIT

how do hearts work anyone

how do they form attachments?

why don't they listen to our minds?

why dont they match the ones they desire to connect with?

why is time never in our favor?

what speed do i travel through this plane?

maybe i drive solo for some time

enjoy the time

meditations on top salt street sterling place

experimental performance. what does experimental mean? does it mean you do whatever you want? what does it mean to do whatever you want? can you do whatever you want on stage? what are your expectations of me when i do a performance? do you want me to dance? do you want me to sing? what if i don't do any of that. does that leave you dissapointed? if you are paying to see me, I'm supposed to deliver right? I'm supposed to do what you want, since you are my guest here inside the theater. but if u don't pay, that means you are just here for whatever happens. whatever is organically created in the space.

organic. i hear its healthier. but we don't want to be farming for shows. organic items are not accessibile to everyone. but if i like the taste, am i guilty for biting into it?

organic sounds apetizing. but often, when using pleasant words, by the time they start to translate as viable communicators they have already been coopted and their meaning corrupted.

so organic doesn't even mean what i want it to mean. now that i can use it to describe performance, it translates as some meaningless formless shitty stick. and when i do a performance, what happens if i make the decision to do whatever i feel like doing. without considering you. I'm always considering you. everytime i walk down the street. every time i'm laying down in my bed, thinking about the day, I'm reviewing the encounters i had with you. thinking about what i did, and what it might mean to you. how can i make that more clear for you?

So what is this idea then. Freestyle. I remember taking poetry classes, for free at Urban Word. back when they had that beautiful loft at union sq. and there was some fine ass poetry teacher. i would go hoping he would sit next to me. stand behind me. so i could get some of his beautiful energy radiating out of his loose curly fro. but for the poetry moreso, i would go. they would give us a prompt. freestyle on the idea of... freestyle in an intention of... i remember i was assigned horny as an intention. i was not comfortable freestyling, add being horny to it you u know my shit suckkedd.

but i admired those that could. i wanted to do that. how do you do it? can you just go out in front of people and create something. maybe i need to bring the audience into a cypher. maybe that would help me create the mood. maybe i need to pick some people out.

i was tight. i had to let loose. i had to let go of this idea of what you want. how to please you. if i please me, maybe that pleasure can translate, be shared? maybe if i can accept me i would stop hiding behind some half considered ideas. maybe it would feel less like im wasting your time on stage, if i spent more of my time, endless amounts of time, preparing for this 5 minutes of your time that your giving me right now. i see. i see. its because i have a whole room of ppl, who came together at a certain time to give me their time all at once. so its not exactly a two way street. all the lanes are leading to me. so hopefully i have something at the destination.

right? only what maybe you can see when you come to the right space.

dreaming performance

Today i felt the sleep in my arms. the weight grounded me through a serious of visualized dreams, i could recall this morning. Although I woke at 5:33am ... i decided to go to the bathroom and return to my bed where the series seriously began.

From the onset, I first recal dreaming on a bus. A bus so smooth, and a female driver so precise in her turns, she got the highest ratings. She made turns through narrow pathways between metal pillers under bridges with her bus with all of us, through passages I think I would turn sideways to squeeze in. How she made the sharpest 90 degree turns, I will never know.

She smoothly digressed down a concrete staircase, and we jumped every so often as we descended to the highway below. be it the prospect expressway, or another. close to the end, we took a jump too high and landed slightly on one side and turned over. I held on in an oppositional angle, landing upright as everyone lay sideway underneath the school bus designed seats. I waitied for others to join me. Although the bodies remained under the seats, others joined me on my transition outside. Were they spirits or people, i don't know.

Then i ended up in a water park. My birkenstocks were left floating in the water, and the silver leather went missing. Someone stole my leather, and left my corked sole. Or the leather disintegrated into teh silver water. Later, i learned the leather became brown muddy straps that did not resemble my original sandel. In my search, I found an indian family eating dinner at a celebratory party, which I was simultanoesly invited and shunned away from. As I walked down various passaways, between various groups and parties that continued after the water park celebration, I could not exist anywhere, because I was constantly bound to this fun park, in search for my shoes, my key to the next place.

Performance anxiety has never been more productive, than it has been for me these past days. 10 hours of sleep, and more to be had. I will take an epson salt bath tonight. Holla

urban jungle

seasonally fluid

today, yesterday

so i decided to face the past. it began last night, the first day after the end of the world. i started thinking back to the things i've done, the relationships ive had with lovers and friends, and the art that i've created. where i've gone, and where i want to go if there is a tomorrow.

its now Monday, May 23rd. we made it, as i thought. there was a tomorrow, and there will be tomorrow again.

LAST NIGHT.
i sat on my hard world floor, in my leggings, socks and bra and began to untangle my thoughts. suprisingly, lucidly, i came up with two line summaries of my desires and goals on my career, education, love life, health and mind.

i wrote on the categories that came to mind in the exact order they surfaced. now writing, looking back, i noticed that spirit was not a category. that is something to meditate on, and find new clarity. but i know that i want to be in practice. i want to take a step beyond my thoughts, and make something. perhaps spirit cannot be spoken even as a goal. it is something just to be.

but today, my heart hurts. discovering new parts in this end of my relationship. I am facing the unplesant truths of my former partners choices, and gaps in communication. this time, dealing with my friend.

although i believe in open relationships, relationships that allow your partner not to cut off their emotions from the rest of the world, and experience emotions that come about even if they are romantic and involing third or fourth parties. i framed my experience at j and i's beggining, as entering our relationships with previous open relationships that i did not want to just cut off. I was already open, and wanted to remain that way. j, my partner at the time was not happy about that. so we found a comprimise. somehow, she called our relationship open while i called it monogamous. something strange happend in our communication, working to appease the other.

and she would go out. and sometimes flirt. she didn't know how to be honest about this. she would work to assure me in words that no one else matters but me, and i am her only interest. but then she would go out, and talk to folks. and not really say what was up. i could detect something fishy, talk to her, and pull it out. she would admit to it, or dismiss it. say she can't tell when ppl are actually feelin her. pretending like that gives her license not to say whats going on, because she wasnt sure. even tho she thought maybe. its always a maybe. we dont really know until declarations are made. or when we come to trusting and sensing things... thru the s word.

this makes me not like being open. it feels like it can be misused as license for whatever.

drunken mishap behavoir.

wtf.

not cool

this sucks

Tribute to Fiona Apple

Her words are elastic filled with grace

the melodies so poetically fill my ears with subtleties of soft spoken novelties

i love her for all that she does to me

Fiona, come back and sing it to my face

please

i need your words

I Flex my Foot for Africa

In a short series of happen stance meetings with the Hampshire community in New York, I prepare to rest. A visit from Bodhi in NYC, followed by a random spotting of Margaret Cerullo in the Schomburg Center leading to a nice conversation over tea at La Perle Noire Café. Sum it up with my first experience of Dance Brazil, volunteering to usher at the Joyce with short conversations in the intermission with Bodhi and Quincy. And a first interaction with Jelon Veira, who asked me to tell my capoeira instructor hello. Warmth and community amidst the anonymous winters has emerged this spring.

As I prepare to rest tonight, heal and prepare to push myself more tomorrow and follow that with a visit to Ben's show at the Bretch, where i expect the community to reconvene.

How life excites me these days. Where will it go?

I have finally admitting to falling in love with a dear friend, and I am beginning to open myself up to new connections with new folks, and allow for possibilities between friends and admirers on hold. What is in store this season? More pleasant surprises I hope.

To be continued.

Negative space between past lovers

I just saw an interesting video blurb, on harlem stage's website from their e-moves, emerging choreographers series. An aritst i love and respect named Maria Bauman describes her new work as one that explores the emotional space that grows between ex-lovers. Her concept struck me in quite an intersting way, because I am thinking and experiencing that moment right now in my life. As I part with my first true girlfriend, one that really wore the title, met my family, met some of my dearest friends, I am noticing how that experince of being so close shifts to a moment of gradually allowing space to increase between our emotional and physical bodies. I am exploring in my newest work (homebody), the concept of home as a construct by bodies. Of the people that lived in various spaces with us, and created, through performance, a sense of place. I am so interested in how the space of a relationship, without a lived location on a phycial plane, is still a site that is shifting and curving with the ending, or break of the relationship. I think about how my closest friend spoke to me last night about her concept of home, being always in relationship to the people that occupied that space with her. her words almost summed up the entire project concept in a short 10 seconds. Her words allowed me to realize, that the home we created and lived in together was a home that inspired the project I am currently creating. My observations about how physical sites shift in our memories and in physical lived experience when we return to spaces that do not have the people that we once with. College campuses are the most rapid & extreme example of such. With drastic shifts every semester, and every year, the neighborhood, the community is in constant flux by its very nature. We think about how this "change" is inevitable in all aspects of life, and the world. But, my tollerance and willingness to face change, has expanded its threshold drastically due to my experience living and returning to hampshire college. I am struggling to face the truth of how to confront some uncomfortable truths about the bodies I am most intimately connected with. And with the ending of this relationship, I am working to let in new or rekindle old friendships that were unintentionally pushed aside. I have new hope that I will reach new depths of connection with folks I admire. And that the wind will blow me in the right direction, to the people I need to know. Until this weekend arises. we shall see, what happens. i dont understand all the background. but i will find out. until until until then k

so you're from brooklyn?

Everyone is so surprised these days that I am actually a brooklyn native. How can I speak like i read plays on TV, with an articulate specificity... that cannot 'place' me?

When did brooklyn have one way of speak? Like when all black people lived in bed stuy, with one walk, one job, one window, one view. Thats not me. Thats not most ppl I would even argue. Like when I decided I would date women.

Like when I told ppl i lived in park slope.

The other side of brooklyn. downtown. boriquaville, new found yuppie land.

returning to passions

i walked into my first capoeira class since, perhaps november of last year today. Walked in the door just past 12:30 and walked out just past 4. There was class, and by 4pm i still felt there could have been more. That is a success, the all day everyday obsession of this art was felt today. I love the work of graduado pastor. The interweaving of target movements that truly diversify ones movement vocabulary, along with time dedicated to the instruments and song in a reliable format allows me to feel confident that I will get the class that I came for. There were only short moments of frustation, dealing with my personal difficulty with the intricacies of a movement, and what feels like a disaparity of distribution of time. The momements when the learning is all gravy feels too short, and the moments when im waiting for the next exercise feel endless, in that spent exaughted minute.

nonetheless, i think as my optimist self, i felt pleased. It was well worth the 15. I do have my personal hang ups about the conflicts of interest in the philosphical connections the instructor makes at times, which unfortunately is also present in the associations I make to the art as a student. Such as re-inforcing the eat or be eaten mind set in the game and approach to making ones presence in a roda I feel to be an ego-ridden conflict that is rampid in the contemporary capoeira world. The maleness in the room, felt eerily welcoming, as the only other women besides myself in the class is now dating the instructor (i learned today). I am far from a regular in class. I wonder often, why don't women feel welcomed in these rooms? What keeps them from returning? The teasing, unsuportive enviroment is one issue I find. Another is the male ego. As the instructor asked me to demonstrate a movement, and I cautiously aimed my martelo at his head and got him to esquiva in the incorrect direction, he went on to explain that his gaurd was down because he was playing with "felina" (myself), and I haven't demanded enough to merit playing a "real" game, so he wasn't willing to play with me for real. That is insulting. And as the student, who is learning, how unsupportive is that. Especially as the only women training in the room, since his female parter was injured sitting on the edge.

Capoeira training environments are far from supportive, one could say as per "tradition." But when a teacher chooses to demonstrate something with a student, that means that there is something to be learned. Even by the instructor. Perhaps he was distracted by the body that was kicking him, and this is his cover. My original instructor believed me to be of his most tallented, if not his female student with the most potential. I took those words seriously. And I need someone who is teaching me the art, to believe I am worthy of learning just like all other students. Why reinforce a system of exlusion, when the most important words of mestre pastinha were capoeira is for women, child, everyone.

And insulting my choice of song in the roda, when I havent sang in so many years, and I come full force with a verse, complex vocab, perfect pronunciation and sing while playing pandeiro. Then because i choose a "classic" that is for "beginners" that means I'm not challenging myself. At my former school, we learned an essential lesson: these capoeira songs are for everyone. We as students at hampshire college sang parana e over and over again, because the song had meaning. It wasn't a song for when you cant sing, it was a song to carry significance, because it is so important. That is why accross academies, continents and sytles you will hear that song in a roda. And these sly comments, putting down choices that are valid based on personal, poorly anaylized associations, are the moments when I think contemproary capoeiristas could really take a look at thier own egos in the form.

Its great to take on new definition of a traditional art form. Its so important. But what I really dont understand is the ways that people can completely disregaurd a legacy, of historical urgency it not be forgotten for the sake of somethign new and catchy. NOOO. so wrong.

Its late. this is not so organized. Stream of consciousness release of steam. x3 a week, for year = complex. But i walked into that room to remind myself that I have an intelligent integrated mind and body, and there were enough moments I had with myself to feel good about returning. But I must check my instructor, because I cannot develop in a place where I feel l am being overlooked and misinterpreted and undervalued. Not good things for learning.

Love

yours truly

Warm Drinks and Hot Topics

I have always been an activist. I have always stood up for what I believe to be right. But after years of heart-wrenching struggles through college and in my personal life, I am hesistant to say "yes", or "lets do it." Perhaps because I am aware of the lack of support of my individuality which becomes ever more apparent when working down to the core of an issue. My individuality, which includes my own personal needs as a human being, eating well, getting rest and bettering myself with a college degree were all at stake when prioritizing past projects. And my integrity as an activist, and sometimes person was questioned when struggling to balance myself in the mist of the larger political/activist goals.

So, moreso what I have realized is I wish, as best as I can, to be very careful about the communities within which I elect to organize. The people I align myself with are by far, very important to share mutual understanding about the struggles I am facing, and the approach.

Last night I sat with three amazing women, who are hungry to make some sort of change. I think they are each bright and feirce women of color, but I think it will take me some time to open up. I found myself very silent around the section of talking about our issues. Talking about issues makes me feel tired (these days); since there are so many issues I hear about every day. And there are certain issues I've already self-prioritized, and when issues flow out without organization from so many unique perspectives it becomes overwhelming for me. Each word carries so much weight. There are so many unique needs that come from all of our unique circumstances that we have lived. I want to know what actions people are taking. I want to know how other people that come from similiar places like me are dealing. I realized I am quite unique. There are not many working class black queer women who grew up in park slope with divorced parents, and a crazy twin brother who occasionally threatens your life. That is what makes my experience unique. But I am more interested in forming communities like mine. I want to shine light on experiences that seem to become invisibilized admist the gentrifcation and yuppification of my home community, and I want communites that are going to really focus on the process of being a supportive enviornment. Because when we recognize eachother and support eachother in the struggle, and recognize our humanity then we are in the right fight.

Park Slope Palimpsets
(next work title)

The conversation I had also opened up my eyes to the broader perspective of living here within the nyc branch of the non-profit industrial complex. I am working in museum education, at a pretty established cultural institution. For a museum, our staff is quite small, our entire operating staff is 50, the bulk of which makes up operations which includes security and logistical personel regarding the safety and transportation of works we host. For my friends, that number seemed to dauntingly large in comparision to 651 for instance, which has 3 fulltime staff members, and 2 additional part time people. But when I speak to my freind at the Met, which has almost 2,000 staff members, education hosting about 50 alone, I think of the studio museum as quite an anomoly for its small status admist the giants of NYC fine arts museums.

Since our staff here is just large enough that we each tackle such specific projects, that means I do not know all about the ins and outs of most things going on at the museum. I don't even know all about the programs in education. And I wondered if this was my fault, if I wasn't taking an active enough role in getting involved. I just realized its not my main priority to know about our events. Rather, it is my social obligation to create more room for small talk, for interpersonal relationships to allow for learning about the projects my colleages are working on since they are not sitting next to me. I think this also hinders my potential for growth or learning, since in my position alone I act mainly as an administrator. Although I host a managerial title or role, there is not much room for me to implement new ideas, or work towards improvements. Instead, I am really exercising my skills in organziation and staying on top of correspondance, etc. This in some ways makes the postion a bit mild, which works for me since I would like my focus to be the advancement of my arts career. I do however, also hope to learn more about being a driving force in an arts cultural instition. Its nice to aid the work of my tremendous co-workers without bearing the brunt of the responsibility of pushing things forward and mending losses. For this period of my life this works, but I want to be able to speak more knowlegably about the organization where I work.

However, I am appreciative of the fact that my organization takes care of me with a great benefits package. That is rare in the arts. I am full time and insured. Getting paid enough to get by. Still looking for more part time work, but its a pretty nice place to be. I can say that I do feel happy to be where I am. Cheers to 2011

Sister Outsider

For the first time I am taking the necessary time to rest my eyes on the much anticipated words of Audre Lorde. After reading many a reference and quote in later authors and works, I have made time to experience the source. And in its serene simplicity of words there is a complexity and cruciality to each seamlessly ordered essay. My favorites thus far are the power of the erotic.