Did you miss me? Turns out, writing every month became just a silly little dream for me. Carly - 0 / Procrastination & Burnout - 1.
Change Passwords, Blog Post, Go Through Camera Roll, Document Youth Choreography.
^A list of things I continue to push to the next day, every single day. Seriously, I wanted to change my passwords in MAY.
Is it possible to give myself too much permission to rest? Why am I exhausted from resting?
There are so many things I could say - maybe that is why sitting down to write became such a chore. I don't know how to organize my thoughts, and I'm sick of staring at a computer all day! But I'm finally doing it - whatever this mess of an un-proofread article this may be. My apologies! Or should I say you're welcome?
I recently celebrated my one-year anniversary in St. Louis. Recently, as in a month ago. I meant to write this a month ago. This also marks over one year since I've graduated from school and became a ~working artist.~ An exhausting accomplishment, to say the least. I'm writing here to document what I've learned since then, who I've become, and where I want to go from here. Let's get into it!
What I like to teach is different than what I like to dance.
This was a discovery I didn't expect! Somehow, I've become the token tap teacher at more than one establishment. I only learned how to tap a few years ago! But tap and ballet have become my favorites to teach - I love the vocabulary aspect, the patterns, and the brainteasers. I like disrupting structure while still staying within its confines. I like to make the mundane interesting. Inversely, I haven't found myself enjoying teaching contemporary forms or unstructured modern/jazz as much. Maybe because it is a little more creativity-draining on the lesson planning side. There are few rules to pull from, and many directions to pursue. I'd rather dance in the absence of structure than teach someone else to. I also realized how much more I prefer a class with a set session rather than drop-in classes - probably both on the "teaching" and the "taking" end. I love to keep building on a foundational knowledge, rather than starting somewhere random. Not to mention, sessions usually allow for built-in breaks, which brings me to my next point...
Always take the day off.
Gone are my workaholic days - at least that is my goal. Working is addicting - especially when your work is interesting, fun, or when others are at stake. Such is dance and theatre work! Earlier this year, I found myself in a cyclical loop of working 7 days a week - sometimes only for one hour, sometimes over ten. Regardless, it was exhausting and not the vibe. Gone are the days when I will run myself into the ground with work. When I had COVID in late July, I read a good amount of Beth Pickens' book, Make Your Art No Matter What. I recommend this book to any working artist, any un-motivated artist, any person recovering from burnout, anyone feeling unfulfilled in their art. Pickens writes early in the book about the Jewish Sabbath - the period between Friday and Saturday's sundown where one ceases from working entirely. She recommends that artists take 24 hours every week to not work - no clocking in, thinking about work, lesson planning, glimpsing at the email inbox. It is difficult - and it shouldn't be! But this practice has improved my life greatly in the 4 weeks that I've been doing it. We'll see if I can keep myself accountable once I really start to get busy. I know that if I don't take breaks, my body will decide when my break is through the form of illness. So I now know, when offered the day off, take it.
Making your own schedule is so hard.
Literally scheduling rest into my life is a necessity for me - especially because my non-resting days are usually packed with work, taking class, preparing for work, etc. It's a rare day when I only have to go to one of my three jobs. Just when I thought college scheduling was tough, life hit me hard. It can be nearly impossible to schedule all of your work around each other. Never again will I take advantage of how when I was in school, that was all done for me. What a luxury, to have only one job, or one institution to base your schedule off of.
What's also hard? Making yourself create, practice, and see art.
Refer to my earlier statements - I have been wanting to task things like writing this blog post or changing my passwords for MONTHS. It's easy to tell myself, "nah, I'll do it later," because literally no one is going to be affected. No grade will suffer, no one will be disappointed in me. But one of the first things I noticed when I was settling into St. Louis is that I was not engaging in my creative practice as much as I wanted to. And most of that was just being removed from school, where I had the privilege of being surrounded by art and resources for creating, practicing, and observing all the time. Now studio space costs money or permission, practicing calls for time in my schedule, and seeing art is another sacrifice of money and time. Something that got me back into my creative practice and my training was creating monthly training requirements for myself. Again, no one would be affected, other than my own training and creative accountability. But somehow, that has been just enough for me. I recommend this strategy for anyone else transitioning out of post-collegiate life.
You can build the life you want with theatre and dance.
I remember being in Senior Experience in college, a lecture-based class where you talk through the logistics of pursuing a career in theatre and dance. It honestly was not the most useful class, but at the very least it got me thinking. I remember setting 1, 3, and 5 year goals. My first year's worth of goals included what percentage of my income I would like to be from theatre and dance work. I remember thinking, is 25% too high? For context, 100% of my current income is from theatre and dance work. I never would have believed that one year ago. Granted, my cost of living is cheap, I'm in a small city where I'm not overwhelmed by people with huge names in the field, and most of this arts related income is not coming from performance work. However, I think it's super cool that I'm making a life out of art when I never thought that would be a possibility for me so soon. Take that, starving-artist narrative! But, on a related note...
The jobs that pay the most are the least fulfilling.
Part of my work as a contractor includes picking up gigs. And as the title suggests, the people who are willing to pay a fair wage for dancers, often have the tackiest taste. I've danced in a child-sized dance costume in a church, I've performed dressed as a chess piece in the rain, and I've freestyled in the December cold a few blocks away from my house. All for the money. Unfortunately, concert work doesn't always pay. The stipends many small companies received are often laughable. But don't sleep on the gig work. It won't do much for you as an artist, but will allow you to pick up that extra treat from Starbucks on the way home. ;)
Non-arts jobs also hold great value.
When I first moved, I spent a good amount of time delivery driving for Shipt. Did I want to do it as a career? No. But the money was easy, the hours were flexible, and it gave me something to do other than dance. I do think there was a correlation to my greater burnout from Jan-Jun and picking up more arts-related work. Bask in those jobs where you don't have to think about anything arts-related. Not all of the work you do has to be (or even should be) passion-driven.
Standing up for yourself is key.
Talking about money is SCARY. Talking about what is a productive use of your time is arguably worse as a people pleaser. However, the best way to get what you want and deserve is going to be by standing up for yourself. Place a limit on how much you can offer for mediocre pay. Ask for a breakdown of how much you were paid per-gig or how your stipend was calculated. As the employee, you have the power.
Finally, sometimes you have to be your own Christie.
I found myself coming home from the last day of tech week in April angry. We were dark on Friday, opening on Saturday, and it was Thursday evening and our pieces were not clean. We weren't dancing as a group, there were less-than-desirable power dynamics going on, and everything felt rushed and thrown together. I remember writing in my notebook that night some things that my long-time college teacher and mentor would say to me. Just fucking task it. Don't let how you feel about the work affect how you do the work. Solve the problem in the problem, not before you step into it. These words, first uttered in my ear years ago, were one of the sole reasons I got through the concert weekend. Christie taught me many things. She taught me to just try things instead of thinking about them too much, to find the most efficient, effective, "Christie-clear" method of communication, to be present and perceive problems as they are, not as what they could become. I hope everyone has their own Christie in their ear.
Now that I think of it, I received a kick-ass education.
Enough said.
So, where to next? I'm here in St. Louis another year, and likely another year after that. I'm planning some travel to 8 different cities to decide where my next home might be. The thought of moving out of the midwest for the first time is suddenly scary. I hope to start my freelance career in this next place. That thought may be even more scary. I'm excited about the artist that I've become, and the artist that I will grow into. I'm thankful for what I've learned, the ways I've grown, the people that I've touched and the people who have touched me. To another year.
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Go Forth and Create!
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