Criss by Aaron (and Criss)

I chose 12th & Jackson as the site of my final solo, because pigeons love that corner and often circle and wheel in flocking glory, and Criss had written in her initial responses that she loved flocking birds. I also chose that corner because it is public, truly public, multicultural, funky, sketchy, bustling, a nexus point for characters and oddity. It was a space both radically different from the other, more sculptural places that I chose, and aligned with the spirit of marginal, edgy spaces that I gravitated towards in these 1 to 1 solos.
This final solo, taking place in the morning of opening night, had a reflective quality to it, an awareness of the patterns and habits running the course of these solos suffused me. Criss is also a friend, a fellow practitioner of Capoiera Angola, someone I know quite well and respect, someone with whom I want deepen my friendship.
I certainly saw some characters while I was waiting for Criss, including an altercation where a knife almost got pulled. Sitting there next to the dumpster, slightly uncertain about what solo was about to unfold, feeling the nerves.
Beautiful things happened upon her arrival, she made rosemary lemonade, I read sweet words and spoke with my eyes closed, I balanced and danced beside a dumpster, there were the requisite run ins with authority concerning my using crates that were about to be broken down into trash, the pigeons flew, though not when I wanted them to, not as a flock of spells above my dancing, we made a circle of two, and the sun came out gloriously, forcing me into movement before its time. All in all, I feel slightly discontent with my solo for Criss. I felt slomewhat reserved, either due to the location, or the fact that I know Criss well and had an agenda for what I wanted from the solo. Much of Criss’s writing was inspiring, and spoke to me of changing our lives, living our dreams, and becoming radical members of the earth community, with strong roots and dynamic branches. Though I addressed those things in the solo, I don’t feel like I manifested the awakened being I was hoping would show up and inspire us both. Wearing flamboyant pink and red, my movement was nonetheless contained, bound, overly concerned with boxes and props, and never exploding into the raucous movement of the shaman being I had imagined might make an appearance.
When asked if there was anything else she would like to say to me in our writings, she responded “wake up”. That resonated deeply with me, and set the bar high somehow Since I see Criss a lot, I am considering finishing the solo another time, exploding out into movement unexpected, pouring out the passions and desires that her last two words had inspired in me.

Seeing Criss's response of course, helped me realize the complexity of these 1 to 1 solos, the rich interpretation and intimacy that is inherent in their sturcture.

Reflection. Connection. Inspiration.



When I met Aaron on the corner of 12th and Jackson, where dismal energies swirl and emulsify, he greeted me with lemons. Being of a kinesthetic nature, I was right away comforted to receive the simple yet symbolic task of making lemonade.



Once I was settled in, Aaron began with a reading from my greatest literary inspiration, Alice Walker. I remembered the piece right away, and to hear it verbalized evoked the spirit of freedom, and of justice. It tells of a South African tribe that chooses praise over punishment. Villagers gather in a circle around the accused and recall that person’s good deeds, strengths, kindnesses, and positive attributes. I’m passing for a time in which a loved one is incarcerated in a conventional “correctional facility”. So at these words, a heavy but hopeful mourning rushed through me. A few tears made their escape, perhaps plopping into the lemonade. Then Aaron rose and began to move.



He hoisted himself up on a handrail, swinging, swaying, exploring the boundaries of balance and strength, never touching feet to the ground. I saw myself as child. I felt the great freedom and joy of exploring the body’s endless possible configurations. I recalled that sweet serenity that only comes from a place of unsupervised play. I reveled in the memories rolling in, playground scenes, jumping in leaves, and barrel rolling down hills. I recalled my youthful imagination, and the connection it brought.



Aaron then settled into a position surprisingly very familiar to me, head back, legs stretched out, and stomach to the sky. I saw his body as an antenna, roving and fine tuning to receive the most vital signals from the universe. I often feel this way, challenging myself to listen, to observe, and to receive life forces all around me. A few years ago, when I experienced (what I see as) my first major “awakening”, I drew a picture of body in the same position. I had needed to express the pain in letting go, the fear in leaving behind the familiar and comfortable, and the feeling of being moved by unknown and mysterious forces.



Seeing Aaron’s body in this same position brought to mind the endless cycle of birth and death, that for me, is the essence of life. By letting go and cleansing, we are preparing to receive new energies, to use resources at hand to rebuild, and that’s just what Aaron did next.



Using old produce crates and his feet, Aaron gracefully and playfully began to explore what was possible to build. Crate by crate, he constructed a tower, or perhaps a house. When he had only one crate left, he could no longer reach the top of the structure. He then turned to examine the crate; he took it for a slow saunter down the street and studied it. The sun came out and Aaron held the crate over his head, still seemingly perplexed by it’s existence. He returned to his handiwork (or fooitwork) and found a fitting place for the crate, not on the top, but within it’s already stable structure. I felt a great sense of self acceptance and was reminded to examine and love all parts of myself, as well as others.



Aaron then took a seat beside me. We shared rosemary lemonade and salted chocolates as he read from one of his favorite books, Nature and the Human Soul. I was uplifted by the idea that the world IS WAKING UP. Each day, we challenge ourselves to become more and more awake, connected to self, nature, and others. We are creating an ECOcentric world, a world where humans understand their nature and create true communities.



As I walked away, more of Alice Walker’s words rolled in the wind of my consciousness. “What is the point of being artists if we cannot save ourselves?”

The simplicity of this task, like that of the lemonade, filled me with a great sense of empowerment, and hope for the future of humanity.



Thank you for your kind gift, Aaron. You called to the wild playful child within, and brought me one step closer to waking her up, to letting her lead the way.