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Wednesday, August 19, 2009

a Yoga Instructor is Born

Today my father and I made a visit to the Dr. Anita Roberts Memorial Garden, a small garden and patio and sculpture dedicated to the memory of my mother on the NIH campus.

When we arrived, two Indian gentlemen were having a quiet chat. After some time contemplating and absorbing the environs, I asked them to snap our photograph, and we struck up a good conversation. They asked me what I did, and I stated: "I'm a yoga instructor." to which both their eyes lit up, and one asked me about Pranayama (alternate nostril controlled breathing) while the other quizzed me about a particular yoga school in the heart of India.

What was strange was the role reversal: I had simply assumed that since they were Indian, they would be yoga experts... when in fact they were looking to me for advice. Two Americanized Indians asking an Indianized American about the finer points of yogic breathing.

I did the best I could to transfer the knowledge to them about the core practice of breathing, about opening your heart and lungs with simple backbends, about the vinyasa of matching your breath to the movements, and about the most important work of integration into your daily life, so that you are in the mode of deep and clean yogic breathing all day every day.

We said our goodbyes and I realised, entering the lobby, that I had just given my first formal yoga instruction. And all I had to do was to say "I'm a yoga instructor." And so it was, and so it shall be. Namaste.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Galactic Girl in Flight

In my tender youth, I discovered that I had a talent for illustration. One of my very first drawings (there were three)
the Vargas Girl which graced Georgia Peach, a WWII bomber depicted my idea of an angel: an ample, athletic woman in full back arch, naked, flying Jake flying Kathyrn, Sheeps Meadow, NYC through space, her hair flowing wildly in the wind. I entitled the piece Free Flight. Galactic Girl, which graces the side of White Knight Two

Max and I walked the dogs today, and engaged in a stimulating conversation about the imminent human colonization of both Mars and extra-solar space. We also had a lively debate about the flight-readiness of Virgin Galactic's SpaceShipTwo. I recalled from the unveiling (at which I was present) at NextFest 2007 that they planned for first flights in 2009. So upon our return to the house, we Google-duelled until wikipedia provided an adequate answer: First consumer flights in 2011ish.

Upon studying the "artists renderings," I noticed a small graphic on the hull of the ship, and zoomed in with curiosity. It appeared to be a classic WWII pin-up girl! I am in genuine admiration of Branson's balls. The first consumer spaceship and he puts a pinup girl on the front. As soon as I saw her, I was shocked at the resemblance to my drawing, which has been present in my mind more and more since I've been basing and flying.

A little more investigation and I found out her name is Galactic Girl, that shes modeled after the Vargas girls of the early 20th century, and a natural evolution of the Scarlet Lady which graces the hulls of Virgin Airways fleet of Boeing 747s.

I posit here that Galactic Girl is no stranger to the art of Acroyoga. :)

center photo of Jake B & Kathryn U playing acroyoga

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Early Rise & Ecstatic Dance

Yesterday was certainly the highlight of my time in the City so far.

It began with an early morning rise, 6am at the foot of Grace Cathedral. I motivated, called Albert, arranged to meet him for coffee at 6:30am, and rapidly packed my gear and headed down the street. The early rise and hot coffee kickstarted it perfectly. He gave me the key to his place so I could store my stuff and take a shower. I walked on over to Yerba Buena Park and did a 30 minute intensive calesthenic / yoga workout. Headed back to Albert's place, shaved and showered. Combined with the haircut yesterday and the shower last night, I was really beginning to feel like a civilised human. I put on my rave pants, a clean shirt, my new sunglasses, and went out to make love to the world. All that and it was still only 8:30 in the morning!

By 9:00am I was at the library, getting my list done of topics to research and photos to post. At 11:30am I left the library to meet Albert for lunch, and for the first time since I arrived, I was opened by two ravishing girls sitting on the steps of the Asian Art Museum. We had a pleasant little banter and I continued walking. Note to self: clean shaven, freshly washed, well costumed, with sunglasses is a good look for meeting people.

At noon I met up with Albert and got treated to a delicious spicy and mightily filling Thai lunch. Back to the library to wrap up some things, then walk/jog a brisk 2 miles to meet Rosie at Cafe Gratitude...

This place lived up to expectations, and then some. The Cafe itself is simply a genesis point of positive energy and intention in the universe. There are signs everywhere expressing happiness and positivity, there is good art, glowing people, and don't even get me started on the food. Rosie showed up a little after I'd gotten settled in and introduced me to Treasure, who I'd seen practicing handstands on the outside wall. Yes, free balance handstands are a big deal in our little community of yogis, acrobats, and circus performers. Even better is getting up into them in style, kick-free. But more of that later.

Rosie and I sat down and caught up on eachothers happenings, threw some thoughts around regarding a Burning Man art project shes involved with (a wonderful piece called The Heartbeat Amplifier, and found out we were both to be participating in the same dance celebration that same evening. We talked about what plans I had to live and work in the city, and shared intel about yoga / movement play and an upcoming yoga teacher training in Brazil. She ordered the Aloha juice and I the I'm Cool Milkshake.... which merits its own descriptor:

The I'm Cool Milkshake is comprised of all organic ingredients, fresh mint, ice cream, spirulina superfood for the green color, and crushed cacao nuts for the chocolate... making it just the perfectly sublime mint chocolate chip delight ever. I tasted it, Rosie asked me what I thought, and then she said "wait for it... wait for it..." and the delicate bitter of the cacao nuts hit me, a full 5 seconds after the sweet coolness of the initial sip. Galactic Yumminess!

Rosie introduced me to the manager of the Cafe for a potential job opportunity, with decent pay for the work [...and just as I was writing this, I met someone with a room to rent just 4 blocks away!] We parted ways and I enjoyed a nice breezy walk to the BART train. I bought a ticket and literally as my foot came off the escalator, my train arrived. I smiled and did a little jig as I headed East to Ecstatic Dance.

Historic Sweets Ballroom was literally a 2 block walk from the BART station, wondrously convenient. I walked in, where I was greeted by a gentle man who checked me off the guest list. Deep shamanic sounds and chanting could be heard from upstairs as I ascended to the ballroom. The energy felt good.

The ballroom was ginormous, and perfect. Massive hardwood dance floor, over two hundred and fifty feet to a side, with a stage. A few couples doing some nice flow contact improv. A girl in a purple dress setting up an altar by the huge two story windows. A cellist improvisationally playing, who I find out later is in fact Mystic Pete.

I flowed through the space a bit, then moved into some basic yoga and warm-up stretches. Soon, Alicia circled everyone up, and we began a series of loosening up exercises, alternating between silliness and vocalizations, animal behaviors and roleplay. And then it began time for the "formal" contact improv to begin. We started with about 15 of us in circle. Everyone was asked to emanate a tone of their choice with their breathing. A sublime harmony and strong vibration filled the room. I entered the contact theatre.

The rest of the night just got wilder and wilder. I had spent the day reading the "Art of Courtly Love" and the related "Code of Chivalry." That was good. It caused me some minor amount of restraint and allowed me to breath slowly and naturally through some very intimate contact movement.

By the time contact improv was wrapping up, there were about 25 people in the ballroom, and Alicia wisely encouraged us to welcome the newcomers. Someone had told me earlier "no talking on the dancefloor", which was awesome, because as a fairly well understood guideline of the community, it meant we could use only our bodies to communicate intention, or to invite another to dance with you. I had learned the magic of contact improv invitation a month earlier in Atlanta, which was basically to saddle up next to someone, and to either gently or vigorously (as the spirit moves you) come into skin to skin contact with them. That moves to eye contact, and with subtle pressure and a deep sensitivity to how hard the pressure is returned, a couple moves into contact improv play/dance.

The music transitioned as smoothly as I'd ever witnessed between the natural acoustic cello and a chill intro by Haj of Sub Swara, one of my absolute favorite dubstep/electronica bands who I first encountered during my tenure in NYC. The sun begins to set, more and more beautiful people come in, organic food and a big water cooler is set up, and the dance starts to move in full swing. Before I knew it there were well over a hundred people moving and gyrating and hooping and yoga-ing and acrobatting and contacting in fluid, graceful, ecstatic time to the seriously deep bass beats. It reminded me of the Hooper's Ball, without the hoops, and with far deeper pair contacting. I shared both deeply intimate and ridiculously fun movements with a series of rapturous partners.

Playing with different partners energies was a really wild exercise in humanity. Some had the strength of goddesses, some were hyper, some wanted strong lead, some were dramatic, some felt like equals, and there was every different style present. I was both fascinated and enthralled by the interplay between gentle, mutual touches, and strong, firm lead... it all depended on the partner. I learned through the course of the night how to deliver a firm, confident leading touch / handhold -- and how to emply a grip of steel when your wild partner decides to do a full backbend supported solely by one clasped hand and my counterweight.

The flow continued for hours as we danced and danced and danced till midnight, when the music finally came to a raucous close and everyone gathered in small groups for conversation and cool-down.

I chatted with some newfound friends, shared some hugs, and headed back to the streets of the City for a delicious slice of Italian Pizza.