Perreo Llorando
Crying, clacking, climbing my way back to creative flow
I’ve been living inside the feeling of a thud. Anvil like dread, uncertainty and crippling negativity. Its not uncommon for me. It comes and it also goes. But when it comes, it is a tsunami of doom. Once it sets into my being it takes time to process and reset. Sometimes I don’t even realize it moved in. But once there it convinces me that trying is just too fucking hard.
The past year has been as challenging as it has been beautiful. A new life, lifestyle, city, way of being. Also a lot of doors shutting, grief, loss and re-orienting to a new (or is it different?) identity.
How much of my past self am I carrying forward? And is it a choice or are we just ourselves no matter the circumstance or setting? Who else would I rather be? The answer has never changed but this time I wonder if it will.
I hide in air conditioning to soothe my heightened body temperature due to the bleeding phase of my cycle (no euphemisms here) as the outside world creeps into the 90s. I think about being in the chrysalis phase. Feeling myself disintegrating and re-membering. How long will this take? I wonder. Am I in transition or am I just lost forever?
For better or for worse, no matter the state of emotion I am in I have always felt like it will last forever. Unable to imagine the inevitable fluctuations that are inescapable.
The hose of my creativity feeling pinched. Loss of visibility making me wonder what it means to exist if I am not seen? Do I have the motivation to build my platform back up to be again? Or is it a gift disguised as a curse that i “get” to start over. Pessimism doesn’t let me entertain the latter, instead I feel lost.
I have an embodiment session with a healer. It reminds me of the spaces I hold when I lead one on one containers. I’m invited to scream from the place where it hurts. It feels so far away I struggle to get near it with my voice. I try but only a sliver of a shout comes out.
How did I get so far away from something that came so natural for so long?
I pause writing to breathe and look out the window at the sun baked road and Green Tea Peng lyrics waft through my mind: “are my words too damn earnest”. Aren’t I supposed to appear to have it figured out? I’ve always resented and rebelled against that notion and I suppose I always will.
On this particular day in fetal position listening to music I can only describe as wind chime-y, I try to let myself dissolve if I must. But I’ve been feeling like mush for quite some time. Weeks? Months? I’m too disoriented to know.
But on this particular night I have the option to perform. It feels impossible. I have nothing prepared. I feel icky and achy. But I’m over it. It feels like too long that I’ve felt like this. I need to break the routine. I need to express, move, create, let myself be seen.
I decide to do it. To be a part of the showcase at La Palmita Studio where I’ve been teaching weekly classes. I open my suitcase where my costumes remain packed tightly. Some of them decaying in the humidity, elastic no longer elastic-ing. I find lingerie that I forgot I owned. Its been so long since I put it on…
I choose a one piece that covers my mensturally inflammed belly. I choose a song that resonates most with me right now. Perreo Llorando which translates roughly to twerking while crying. Something I’m familiar with. The way shaking my hips can start the tears flowing or stop them depending on what I need.
I have nothing prepared so I decide to show up just how I am. The perfectionist in me screams in protest but what I have is all I’ve got right now. I throw on an oversized hoodie, put my hair in a messy bun and instead of a face full of makeup I put on mascara, then purposefully squeeze my eyes shut to smear it.
When I get to the studio there is chiffon and there is lace. I am covered and I am set to go third. I make a game time decision to start with my shoes off and enact the actual reclamation moment in real time. From hoodie to heels to healing in real time.
I give myself permission to feeeeeeeeeel the music, feeeeel the moment and let myself be… imperfect, unfinished. And to rely on the años y años of preparation that makes me the performer I am whether I rehearse for hours or not.
I needed something to kickstart motion. To let it go and move on. To command myself back to presence. I took the opportunity to show up and it got me off my ass (which looked great in the video I must say).
I felt myself for the first time in a while.
Witness the full performance with an paid membership below.
Dance With Me:
TODAY in San Juan, Perreo Heels @lapalmitastudio. RSVP
TODAY VIRTUAL Bedroom Flow sensual movement class. RSVP
THURSDAY VIRTUAL Tropical Twerkout Class. RSVP
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