It's funny to think of dropping out of college, mostly because I'm sure most students at some point or another have fathomed it. Coincidentally, I've already done it.
I started my college career relatively late; I was 21. I spent the years between dancing, running a local company, working odd jobs and was in a time-consuming relationship. A week away from opening my own dance studio, I received a letter of acceptance to CSU, Sacramento. So I closed the studio, cut my losses and started college, mostly because of the sense of obligation to get "educated" from my parents.
Three semesters in and I changed my mind again. Only this time, I wanted to fulfill my dream of going to Los Angeles and become a commercial dancer. In my year-long sabbatical from school I was living my dream; touring with local artists, music videos, reality shows and training under some of the best dancers in the industry. Unfortunately, this lasted only a year because of the guilt and discouragement of my parents to live life as an artist. So back to school I went.
Reflecting on it, I don't regret a thing. If something were to happen where after this semester I would not return to school, i would be back in LA in a heartbeat, this time with more knowledge, maturity and drive.
Although my focus is not only on school, I keep returning because I truly value it, even if it has little relevance to my career choice. The thought is that it well set me apart from the rest one day.
I can in no way say that my life has been a straight path. It's filled with u-turns and pit stops but either way, I know my destination. On a balance between discipline and spontaneity, I'll get there.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
The Philippines
In May of this year, I was lucky enough to travel to the Philippine Islands. My significant other's grandmother passed away, so she needed to be transported back to her homeland. She passed of old age in the beginning of May. Two weeks and a lot of stress later, I was on a 16-hour flight from San Francisco to the city of Manila in a country I knew relatively nothing about to pay homage to a woman I knew less about. But I was honored to say the least. My nerves would have gotten the best of me if I had not taken the recommended dosage of Dramamine-- I hate the idea of flying over an ocean, even more the idea of drowning. The longest flight I was on previous to this one was the hour and 15-minute flight from Sacramento to San Diego, so this was a stretch.
Our flight ran smoothly; I realized I love airplane food and the bathrooms weren't as scary as I imagined, I learned I wasn't going to get sucked down with the waste.
It was surreal landing in a new country and the immediate lack of familiarity was overwhelming. Stepping off the plane into what felt like a sauna with with wet air and beautiful jungle foliage was fascinating. My hair went into an immediate frizz-ball and the smell of exhaust filled my nose. Colorful "tricycles"and other public transportation vehicles called "Jeepneys" took up any and all roadspace, regardless of the lines that defined the lanes on the road. I was in the Philippines!
The first and second week of the trip were completely opposite. The first week was dedicated to honoring Grandma Eufrocina and praying daily for her safe passage to the afterlife. The ceremonies were beautiful and not only shared the respects of the family, but of all the people in the village of Antipolo. The night before her body was walked to the town's ceremony, the local band struck up music in celebration of her life and played in the village streets through the night while everyone, strangers and family alike ate and enjoyed each others' company. It was nothing like I'd ever seen before.
After that week's festivities, and after I got over a mean traveler's cold, the family took to shopping, sight seeing and more eating. One of the most amazing experiences in that second week was the family booking a 60 person bus (that barely fit family members) and taking a drive to the Subic Bay to spend a day on the beach. Yes, the water was clear and even though it rained, we were swimming in 90 degree weather. It was paradise.
To those considering visiting the Philippine Islands; the time there passes slowly, don't bring a jacket and be prepared to be culture shocked!
Overall, the trip was life-changing. Aside from new dresses, shoes, handbags and jewelry, I took home a new perspective of family values. And that's like that credit card commercial says, priceless.
Our flight ran smoothly; I realized I love airplane food and the bathrooms weren't as scary as I imagined, I learned I wasn't going to get sucked down with the waste.
It was surreal landing in a new country and the immediate lack of familiarity was overwhelming. Stepping off the plane into what felt like a sauna with with wet air and beautiful jungle foliage was fascinating. My hair went into an immediate frizz-ball and the smell of exhaust filled my nose. Colorful "tricycles"and other public transportation vehicles called "Jeepneys" took up any and all roadspace, regardless of the lines that defined the lanes on the road. I was in the Philippines!
The first and second week of the trip were completely opposite. The first week was dedicated to honoring Grandma Eufrocina and praying daily for her safe passage to the afterlife. The ceremonies were beautiful and not only shared the respects of the family, but of all the people in the village of Antipolo. The night before her body was walked to the town's ceremony, the local band struck up music in celebration of her life and played in the village streets through the night while everyone, strangers and family alike ate and enjoyed each others' company. It was nothing like I'd ever seen before.
After that week's festivities, and after I got over a mean traveler's cold, the family took to shopping, sight seeing and more eating. One of the most amazing experiences in that second week was the family booking a 60 person bus (that barely fit family members) and taking a drive to the Subic Bay to spend a day on the beach. Yes, the water was clear and even though it rained, we were swimming in 90 degree weather. It was paradise.
To those considering visiting the Philippine Islands; the time there passes slowly, don't bring a jacket and be prepared to be culture shocked!
Overall, the trip was life-changing. Aside from new dresses, shoes, handbags and jewelry, I took home a new perspective of family values. And that's like that credit card commercial says, priceless.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Le Paris Crepes: quick, filling and fairly priced
Walking through the CSUS Riveefront Cafe on a daily basis in search for an exciting place to eat is a challenge. There's the token sandwich spot, mom and pop ethnic cuisines and that random yogurt place who's sign looks like the Disney logo. What to choose... My default choice is normally Panda Express; I decided to go opposite of that... Le Paris Crepes!
It's in the farthest back corner of the riverfront, competing with burritos and Miyagi Sushi. Everytime I pass this place, there's no line or rapid movement behind the counter. Not the best of signs, but i decided to five it a whirl anyway.
After looking at the menu for quite some time, I decoded on a sweet and savory crepe. I ordered a ham, cheddar cheese and broccoli crepe, along with a plain crepe with butter, sugar and whipped creme.
I watched as the cook first made the Crepes; I'm sure it's one of those things that's way harder to do than it looks. The easy part came next, filling the wrapping, folding and serving.
I got my food in record time, although my order did not look as appealing as I imagined it would by the description on the menu. It looked like a folded tortilla on a plain paper plate. No color, no sauce, no nothin.
Either way, it was time to eat.
Cu
It's in the farthest back corner of the riverfront, competing with burritos and Miyagi Sushi. Everytime I pass this place, there's no line or rapid movement behind the counter. Not the best of signs, but i decided to five it a whirl anyway.
After looking at the menu for quite some time, I decoded on a sweet and savory crepe. I ordered a ham, cheddar cheese and broccoli crepe, along with a plain crepe with butter, sugar and whipped creme.
I watched as the cook first made the Crepes; I'm sure it's one of those things that's way harder to do than it looks. The easy part came next, filling the wrapping, folding and serving.
I got my food in record time, although my order did not look as appealing as I imagined it would by the description on the menu. It looked like a folded tortilla on a plain paper plate. No color, no sauce, no nothin.
Either way, it was time to eat.
Cu
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
"American Horror Story"
After flipping through the channels at one of my close friend's house until I made a full circle without finding anything appealing, I remembered Comcast's "On Demand" feature. What a life saver!
It being Halloween night, a particularly uneventful one, I was in the mood for something scary. After seeing a few previews of the show "American Horror Story", FX's second-season horror-drama, I was a little intrigued. Haunted house, sexy people and creepy neighbors. Why not?
What I knew going into the show is that FX has a tendency to cross the line of prime-time TV; uncommon four-letter words are put to use and adult scenes are a little more detailed, if you will. But with "American Horror Story", I was expecting first and foremost to be spooked.
It was an hour-long episode and despite that its viewing was meant for viewing last Wednesday, my friend and I grabbed snacks, hit the lights and pressed play.
The episode I watched was the season's pilot. It started out with a killing of two boys in the 1970s inside the typical, run-down, haunted house. It then jumped forward 40 years into present time when a family from across the country moves into the Los Angeles home expecting a new beginning. The family consists of Vivien, the mother who recently miscarried and is struggling to forgive her husband, Ben, who she caught cheating with one of his students. Their only daughter, Violet is a misfit teen who is bullied daily at her new school.
It being Halloween night, a particularly uneventful one, I was in the mood for something scary. After seeing a few previews of the show "American Horror Story", FX's second-season horror-drama, I was a little intrigued. Haunted house, sexy people and creepy neighbors. Why not?
What I knew going into the show is that FX has a tendency to cross the line of prime-time TV; uncommon four-letter words are put to use and adult scenes are a little more detailed, if you will. But with "American Horror Story", I was expecting first and foremost to be spooked.
It was an hour-long episode and despite that its viewing was meant for viewing last Wednesday, my friend and I grabbed snacks, hit the lights and pressed play.
The episode I watched was the season's pilot. It started out with a killing of two boys in the 1970s inside the typical, run-down, haunted house. It then jumped forward 40 years into present time when a family from across the country moves into the Los Angeles home expecting a new beginning. The family consists of Vivien, the mother who recently miscarried and is struggling to forgive her husband, Ben, who she caught cheating with one of his students. Their only daughter, Violet is a misfit teen who is bullied daily at her new school.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Dance Department Paradox
The dance department at Sacramento State is interesting. The faculty are enthusiastic and an odd but successful combination of ballet, jazz and modern/acrobatic dancers who have impressive resumes to back up their positions.
So why are the department leaders not more aggressive in raising the bar? The students are untrained, but passionate and artistic dancers who express themselves in the genre of modern, for the most part. There are some who have studio training as a foundation. But I'm not sure they're being challenged.
There is no audition to become a dance major/minor, only a long list of required technique and history classes. So that means people of different dance calibers are being sent out with the same degree from the same institution. And those that I've seen graduate with this degree stay involved with the department for years after. It seems there was a failure to launch.
I spent the spring semester at California State University, Long Beach, which is noted as one of the top ten dance programs in the nation. I was admitted into the school academically, but still had the challenge of auditioning for the program. I did not make the audition. And rightfully so. Not only were the dancers there phenomenal, but they had thousands of dollars worth of ballet training, something I lack.
Anticipating my return to Sacramento State to finish my degree in a more timely manner, I hoped that the department had upped its standards. Unfortunately, I returned home to the same style of dance (modern) swallowing the Shasta Theater.
The dance department at Sacramento State has the potential to be great, and possibly one of the best dance schools in Northern California, but in order to do that, it would need to create exclusivity.
In the dancer's defense, they are a creative bunch with original ideas and have an incredible drive to define modern dance. And I've seen some beautiful and risk-taking work come from them. So although they may not be the studio kids that have been training since they could walk, their committment to dance is just as great.
The cold part is that dance is about talent. Not hopes and dreams and creativity because when you're out in the "real world," auditioners are looking for that "wow" factor. And that can't be taught.
So why are the department leaders not more aggressive in raising the bar? The students are untrained, but passionate and artistic dancers who express themselves in the genre of modern, for the most part. There are some who have studio training as a foundation. But I'm not sure they're being challenged.
There is no audition to become a dance major/minor, only a long list of required technique and history classes. So that means people of different dance calibers are being sent out with the same degree from the same institution. And those that I've seen graduate with this degree stay involved with the department for years after. It seems there was a failure to launch.
I spent the spring semester at California State University, Long Beach, which is noted as one of the top ten dance programs in the nation. I was admitted into the school academically, but still had the challenge of auditioning for the program. I did not make the audition. And rightfully so. Not only were the dancers there phenomenal, but they had thousands of dollars worth of ballet training, something I lack.
Anticipating my return to Sacramento State to finish my degree in a more timely manner, I hoped that the department had upped its standards. Unfortunately, I returned home to the same style of dance (modern) swallowing the Shasta Theater.
The dance department at Sacramento State has the potential to be great, and possibly one of the best dance schools in Northern California, but in order to do that, it would need to create exclusivity.
In the dancer's defense, they are a creative bunch with original ideas and have an incredible drive to define modern dance. And I've seen some beautiful and risk-taking work come from them. So although they may not be the studio kids that have been training since they could walk, their committment to dance is just as great.
The cold part is that dance is about talent. Not hopes and dreams and creativity because when you're out in the "real world," auditioners are looking for that "wow" factor. And that can't be taught.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Pushing, Pushing
Every morning following my four-hour rehearsal for Sacramento Kings Dancers, I'm sore like I haven't danced in months. I'm told this is a good thing.
A couple of weeks ago, I took what is called a master class by a local choreographer and friend, Tramon Traywick. Basically, it is a workshop where dancers come to learn choreography from a professional choreographer and get critiqued. This particular class was in the style of jazz funk; a fusion of jazz dance and hip hop and burlesque. I guess the reason I went off on this tangent about this class is that the choreographer mentioned something that stuck with me, "As dancers, we always have to push." I attribute my soreness to me "pushing" at rehearsals.
The goal is to one day be a touring backup dancer for an uber-famous singer like Lady Gaga, or choreograph for music videos and the VMAs. Feels like I'm on my way, especially if I push.
There are a million and one things for dancers to think about while rehearsing or performing; execution of choreography, stamina, technique and entertaining the audience, and that's only narrowed down to the most important elements. Dancing is hard.
I recently attended a local dance performance, "Red Bucket Dance Theater: The Collection", which took place at the 24th Street Theater in town. As previously covered, dancers are competitive, so watching a show with peer dancers, performed by peer dancers, is always interesting. All we're doing is critiquing.
The genre was modern dance with hints of ballet, cultural dance and musical theater. For the most part, I enjoyed the show, save for a few pieces I could not interpret or were not aesthetically pleasing. One of the scenes that struck me most was the end work, which had an oriental flavor to it. Percussive movement, quick direction changes and leaps into the air filled the stage. The reason behind its entertaining factor was that the dancers were pushing.
Out of realization that the dance community is miniature relative to the rest of the world, I'd like to expand my theory of pushing...
Yesterday, I had a conversation with my best friend who is currently living in LA and attending Pepperdine University for her masters in psychology. We were discussing whether or not people should push themselves to be more social, more aggressive and more interesting. In a sense, we loosely concluded that pushing results in growth, in any situation.
I guess it's a common thought to push or "strive" for the best. But I think there is a major difference between pushing and striving. I consider pushing as giving it 110% when you've got nothing left, in essence, putting your mind over the matter. In dance terms, it's continuing to dance full out at the end of rehearsal when you're drenched in sweat and your muscles are past the point of fatigue.
Whatever the industry, whatever the goal, pushing seems to be a key element to stay competitive and to continue growing. Now the next question is where to find that extra 10%...
A couple of weeks ago, I took what is called a master class by a local choreographer and friend, Tramon Traywick. Basically, it is a workshop where dancers come to learn choreography from a professional choreographer and get critiqued. This particular class was in the style of jazz funk; a fusion of jazz dance and hip hop and burlesque. I guess the reason I went off on this tangent about this class is that the choreographer mentioned something that stuck with me, "As dancers, we always have to push." I attribute my soreness to me "pushing" at rehearsals.
The goal is to one day be a touring backup dancer for an uber-famous singer like Lady Gaga, or choreograph for music videos and the VMAs. Feels like I'm on my way, especially if I push.
There are a million and one things for dancers to think about while rehearsing or performing; execution of choreography, stamina, technique and entertaining the audience, and that's only narrowed down to the most important elements. Dancing is hard.
I recently attended a local dance performance, "Red Bucket Dance Theater: The Collection", which took place at the 24th Street Theater in town. As previously covered, dancers are competitive, so watching a show with peer dancers, performed by peer dancers, is always interesting. All we're doing is critiquing.
The genre was modern dance with hints of ballet, cultural dance and musical theater. For the most part, I enjoyed the show, save for a few pieces I could not interpret or were not aesthetically pleasing. One of the scenes that struck me most was the end work, which had an oriental flavor to it. Percussive movement, quick direction changes and leaps into the air filled the stage. The reason behind its entertaining factor was that the dancers were pushing.
Out of realization that the dance community is miniature relative to the rest of the world, I'd like to expand my theory of pushing...
Yesterday, I had a conversation with my best friend who is currently living in LA and attending Pepperdine University for her masters in psychology. We were discussing whether or not people should push themselves to be more social, more aggressive and more interesting. In a sense, we loosely concluded that pushing results in growth, in any situation.
I guess it's a common thought to push or "strive" for the best. But I think there is a major difference between pushing and striving. I consider pushing as giving it 110% when you've got nothing left, in essence, putting your mind over the matter. In dance terms, it's continuing to dance full out at the end of rehearsal when you're drenched in sweat and your muscles are past the point of fatigue.
Whatever the industry, whatever the goal, pushing seems to be a key element to stay competitive and to continue growing. Now the next question is where to find that extra 10%...
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Oh, Occupy Wallstreet
The Adbusters' poster, an illustration of a graceful dancer atop a raging bull, that promoted Occupy Wallstreet perfectly describes the new movement. Peaceful protest atop raging rich people. But will this protest prove successful? I think not.
The demands of the movement seem simple enough: create economic equality and stop corporate greed. Simple enough in an ideal world where money doesn't exist and greed is not a characteristic of humans.
Although protests and demonstrations have ignited change and equality in the past, a movement against corporate greed in capital America is a dream. We are built on the idea of capitalism, and I'm sure anti-Occupy Wallstreet folks are eager to call it socialism. This movement weighs less relative to, say, the Civil Rights Movement, which proved successful, and for obvious reasons. Also, Occupy Wallstreet demonstrators seem to be looking to get a quick fix; otherwise they would be looking to impact the polls come election time. I'm sure this is part of their goal to sway the polls, but a lot of what is currently being done is vague.
In researching the movement, I did not find two like articles. Most of them simply covered the numbers and statistics, instead of what the protestors are accomplishing, or trying to accomplish. That says a lot.
In all honesty, I lack interest in this subject, probably because I know the marches, though reaching from Zuccotti Park in New York to Cesar Chavez Park in Sacramento, won't be successful. I come to this conclusion considering that the age range for this demonstration is relatively young, and that the objective is far fetched.
While visiting the Occupy Sacramento Facebook page, I came across a quote posted on the page, "None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free", written by Geothe. Apparantly, 53% of Americans are trying to end the movement, which shows that over half of Americans are content with their economic status and with corporate power. This is yet another reason I believe the movement will fail.
We will never live in an equal world. I'm all for improving and demanding change when necessary, but ironically, Occupy Wallstreet is greedy. I remember being stressed about money at different times in my life, but my father always told me two things; money is a utility and you cannot take it with you. That being said, people need to focus on other things. Real things. The middle class is complaining here, not the lower class, not the poor, not the homeless. I know I'm grateful to be where I'm at.
Instead of spending time marching, I have a better idea: Giant Flash Mob.
The demands of the movement seem simple enough: create economic equality and stop corporate greed. Simple enough in an ideal world where money doesn't exist and greed is not a characteristic of humans.
Although protests and demonstrations have ignited change and equality in the past, a movement against corporate greed in capital America is a dream. We are built on the idea of capitalism, and I'm sure anti-Occupy Wallstreet folks are eager to call it socialism. This movement weighs less relative to, say, the Civil Rights Movement, which proved successful, and for obvious reasons. Also, Occupy Wallstreet demonstrators seem to be looking to get a quick fix; otherwise they would be looking to impact the polls come election time. I'm sure this is part of their goal to sway the polls, but a lot of what is currently being done is vague.
In researching the movement, I did not find two like articles. Most of them simply covered the numbers and statistics, instead of what the protestors are accomplishing, or trying to accomplish. That says a lot.
In all honesty, I lack interest in this subject, probably because I know the marches, though reaching from Zuccotti Park in New York to Cesar Chavez Park in Sacramento, won't be successful. I come to this conclusion considering that the age range for this demonstration is relatively young, and that the objective is far fetched.
While visiting the Occupy Sacramento Facebook page, I came across a quote posted on the page, "None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free", written by Geothe. Apparantly, 53% of Americans are trying to end the movement, which shows that over half of Americans are content with their economic status and with corporate power. This is yet another reason I believe the movement will fail.
We will never live in an equal world. I'm all for improving and demanding change when necessary, but ironically, Occupy Wallstreet is greedy. I remember being stressed about money at different times in my life, but my father always told me two things; money is a utility and you cannot take it with you. That being said, people need to focus on other things. Real things. The middle class is complaining here, not the lower class, not the poor, not the homeless. I know I'm grateful to be where I'm at.
Instead of spending time marching, I have a better idea: Giant Flash Mob.
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