There is a certain reel circulating around Instagram. Maybe you've seen it. The artist, Yoann Bourgeois, is a choreographer and dancer and the piece shows him walking up a staircase next to a giant trampoline on his left. As he nears the top of the staircase he falls off the stairs to the left on his back on top of the trampoline and with near seamless precision does not miss a beat in his graceful ascension up the staircase. 

 

It communicates a grace that is breathtaking. It made me want to laugh and cry and praise.

 

This is good art, I think.

It also reminded me of a not quite as smooth, but absolutely more comical moment from my life. It was the week of the summer Olympics. But I wasn't watching them because I had boarded a plane for the first time in my life to compete in the junior miss Idaho competition. Cue the Sandra bullock movie line, “It is not a beauty pageant. It is a scholarship program.”

We spent one week training and learning routines where appropriate in the following categories: physical fitness, presence and composure, academics, judges interview, and talent. 

 

I was sketchy on my talent (why I thought a song and monologue from the animated film Anastasia was a good idea, I'll never know), just okay with academics (my 3.8 GPA wasn't gonna cut it against the 4.0+’s), but figured if I came in hot in physical fitness, judges interview, and presence and composure then I still had a shot of getting college paid for. Lord knows my parents couldn't cover it.

 

The physical fitness number was basically a fancy aerobics routine. I had style. I had spunk. I did not, however have biceps and was slightly worried about the portion of the routine that involved push-ups. But all week during practice, I gave it my all. I maybe didn't touch my nose to the ground per pushup but I perfected my form so as to still appear strong. 

 

None of that mattered on the night of the competition. For just as I was completing my final push-up, after which we were supposed to hop back onto our feet, the back of my foot caught on something on my way up, and I flew backwards, landing flat on my back so hard that the entire audience uttered an audible gasp of horror, presumably on behalf of my inevitable embarrassment.

I cannot explain what I did next, for there was no thought involved. I can only tell you that my movements were automatic and in perfect rhythm with the Shania Twain music booming across the auditorium. I rocked back on my shoulders, kicked my legs straight up in the air as if it was part of the routine, then rocked right up to my feet, punctuating my landing with authentic jazz hands.

 

I can't actually remember if the audience applauded then but I like to think they did. I do know that afterwards back stage other contestants were in tears over missed piano notes and forgotten monologue lines. I tried to reassure them. I was a mess also– not with tears, but with wild laughter over what had just happened. “I fell flat on my back out there!” I told them thinking this would make them feel better knowing my failure was was so extreme. They looked up at me through bleary eyes confused at why I wasn’t weeping like them, but stunned to stillness at least.

 

You see,

There was not a possible way I could have blown it harder.

There was not a way I could have nailed my recovery harder either. 

 

I placed 2nd runner up as Jr. Miss Idaho out of 40 contestants. Fall and all.

 

I do not want to go down in history described as, “she could really take a lickin’ but she sure kept on tickin’. Do you hear the universe, mystery and powers that be???? I would like to be given another super power if at all possible! Maybe something like perfect eyebrows, or  perhaps the ability to organize a pantry and thereby my whole life! (*shakes fist at sky in righteous plea).

 

Alas. 

 

I seem to be blessed with something that in my more gentle moments, I will call grace. It's the same thing the dancer in the reel had; the ability to trust the fall in such a way that his next step was  far more than a simple recovery. The next step was made immediately a part of the dance.

 

Three years ago, on Valentine's day, I asked each of my kids, who other than my own self, are the greatest loves of my life (what’s that? You’re still waiting for an update on the mountain man who asked me to go on a date? Make sure you open up my next newsletter!), what song came into their heads when they first thought of me. Without missing a beat, not unlike her mother, my oldest, Myra broke into I’m Still Standing, by Elton John. Do yourselves a favor and watch that music video right this very moment. 

The color. The nerve. The vitality. My winter bones are asking all of that Elton-esque willingness to write himself into the story to seep into me like not only a song, but a sun during the dark months ahead.

What are your bones asking for? 

 

Do you feel like dancing with me? Do you feel like love has touched you in a simple way and you are ready to speak the truth of that touch with your creative vision? Are you ready to do itt boldly, unapologetically, with a glint of humor in your eye, a lightness in your  gait, and utter seriousness as the bass drum of this absurd existence? Do you trust the lady that has fallen flat on her back more than a few times to guide you in the dance?

 

 

If so, consider getting into the groove with me and signing up for Teethkiss the class which begins January 9 and runs for four weeks. It's an intense experience designed for  photographers who are looking to match their outsides to their insides. Not just in terms of the photos they take, but also in terms of the life they lead. You can read more about it and all the nice things people said about it being the best decision they ever made as an artist over on my website.  

 

But I will say here that I am especially looking for those four brave souls who are willing to be one of my fab four students. Different from the 12 live seats and the silent seats, fab four students get weekly one on one mentoring and assignments from me tailored  to their personal journey. Former fab students include Frances Beatty, Laura Ise, Rachel Weaver, Francesca Russel, Angela Doran, Rebecca Griffiths, Krystil McDowall, Ingrid Rivera, Laura Schneider, Kylie Purtell, Carolyn Qually and Susannah Storch.

 

I don’t care if you think you have two left feet. I care about individuals embracing their music in such a way that we demonstrate how the dancing is for us all. 

 

Xx,

Yan