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This Body
This body is old. This body is ugly. This body is slow, weak, cumbersome. It gets in my way and pisses me off. It trips me when I’m tired and gets sticky when I sweat. It has rolls and wrinkles, and cellulite dimples. It has jiggly thighs and arms that aren’t half as strong as I want them to be. I sit immobile at a desk all day and complain when my body gets sore. I work out and dance and stretch and move and push it to the limits. I punish it because I want my body to know how wrong, how bad, how unruly it is. And it…
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Insecurity isn’t always a B*tch: Me & My Meep!
It happens to all of us eventually. You’re chugging along, working towards your dreams and life offers you an opportunity to do exactly what you were hoping for: Try out a really difficult trick, expand your skills at an advanced workshop, perform for an audience. At first, you’re excited, practically breathless with anticipation, but then you feel something swirling deep in your belly. The feeling intensifies, it’s painful, gurgling, unhappy. Your heartbeat picks up and you feel fearful for no recognizable reason. You want to run away from your pole and hide. You might even start to cry. Suddenly you consider the possibility that you could actually suck at this. …
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Sometimes It’s Not Beautiful
Sometimes it’s not beautiful… Because it’s new and you’re learning. Because it’s old and you haven’t done it in a while. Because you’re tired and feeling clumsy. Because you’ve forgotten the steps. Because your muscles feel tight and your mind feels sluggish and your soul just doesn’t have the same passion as yesterday. Sometimes it’s not beautiful… But YOU still are. Sometimes you need the world to recede. You need to hide from it because it’s simply too much to bear for one moment longer. And your practice slows down. You stop dancing so hard, so fast, so strong. You stop stretching to your maximum potential. You stop meditating everyday.…
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Pajama Poppin Pole Party
Sometimes your creative Muse is motivated, playful, filled with wild hip swaying, booty bumping energy. Sometimes your Muse can’t wait to Dance, Dance, Dance. Sometimes she has a love crazed hard-on (yes, I said it. Get over it.) to grab that pole and make the world beg for more. And sometimes she couldn’t give a shit. Sometimes, she looks at that shiny vertical shaft of steel (or titanium, or brass, or chrome) and all she can think about is how cold it probably is right now. How she’ll have to pull out the yoga mat to warm up. How tired she is. Or how long it would take to change…
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Not Giving in to Not Good Enough
I love girls on chairs almost as much as I love girls on poles. There’s something seriously powerful about watching one of your best friends giving your other best friend a lapdance, just because she can. In that moment, nobody is worrying about how big or small her ass should be. Or how her legs compare to [insert championship pole dancer here]. We’re all just enjoying the absolutely carefree playful spirit permeating the room. We shout dirty jokes as the lapdancer pops her booty in the receivers face until one of them has to “tap out” because she is laughing too damn hard. (NOTE – no pole dancers were harmed…
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Please Lay on My Balls
Last weekend I was invited to a Pole Room Consecration, meaning there’s a new studio in town and I got to be one of the first to play on their fabulous new poles! Needless to say I was excited, especially since 5 of those beautiful, shiny phallic symbols spin and go 12 feet up. (AWESOME!) However, after dancing my ass off into the wee hours of the night and then throwing my exhausted body into bed, I woke up with a little ache in my neck and back. 🙁 Don’t Whip It Good! Now, you all know I’m a huge safety nut (what exactly does a safety nut look like?)…
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Pole Confessions
I have a confession to make… the reason I haven’t posted here for months (YIKES!) is because I finally gave up on trying to resolve the conflict I felt (and still feel to be totally honest) about the direction the pole dancing industry has taken. I regularly feel alone, as if I’m the only pole dancer in the world that actually wants to watch and experience the true sensual nature of this glorious movement. And I have to confess that I gave up. I quit. I simply couldn’t take feeling like I was slowly being left behind by the art form that had changed my life so much. And by…
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A Lesson in Failure
[Day 7 of 30]: Everyday is a fresh start or at least I hope it is; because today’s writing sucked. It sucked hard. It sucked so bad, I don’t even want to post anything that I wrote. My Inner Critic is having a field day, ripping the results of today’s attempt to shreds and I hate to give it more timber for the fire. On the good side, I wrote. I tried. I took a prompt and gave it my best shot. On the bad side, it was awful, dreadful, boring, and trite. Instead of letting myself feel embarrassed, I’m going to just be happy that I wrote something. I’m…
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Please, Be A Tease
Last night, I put on my thigh high zebra socks, a teeny tiny skirt and matching triangle bikini top. I slid and dragged, lifted and popped, circled and shook — until the air shimmered with my warm breath. The room was dark, tinged with red. The music was heavy, beating with the rhythm of the earth and my heart. The pole was shiny and glorious, as it should be. The rest of the world fell away. No more worries. No more bills. No more work. No more drama or bullshit. Just me and the heat of the moment. The where, the when, the how, and especially the why — don’t…
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Pole Dancing isn’t just about the tricks
I was lamenting on the state of the pole dancing industry when someone asked me why I focus so strongly on being a pole DANCER instead of a pole TRICKSTER (someone who focuses on athletic pole tricks without transitions). Although I recognize how wonderful pole fitness can be when a woman develops her gymnastic ability and strength, I am not in that camp. I do not and will not ever just teach a pole trick. I believe it is the transitions between the tricks that connect a woman with her sensual nature, not just the trick itself. If I cannot evoke an emotional response throughout my dance, then I’m not…
