Student Blog: How Life Has Changed

About a year ago, I was filming prescreens and auditioning for colleges throughout the country tirelessly. Sure, I was tired, but I was happy. Happy to know that I was chasing my dreams, happy to meet others who shared the same dreams, yet incredibly anxious to know that my life was changing for the better. I remember at an audition for a school in NYC, it hit me - I am setting myself up for my future and whatever will come from it. It was an incredibly intimidating thought, especially in the middle of learning an audition combo in a room with about 70+ dancers, but on the train ride home I became thankful for that realization. Sitting in my dorm room at Point Park University, that oddly timed and contemplated moment still resonates today.

This time last year, I was clueless about what my future held. I didn’t know what college I was going to, I was constantly in rehearsals for January Explosion at The Ailey School and I was struggling to write a poetry analysis in AP Lit. I was living a completely different life from now. I’m not the person to shy away from change, but I think the idea of going to college had to be the most intimidating kind of change I could’ve faced so far. At first, I thought I was fine about it all. I was primarily excited and relieved that I got to pick a school that had a well-funded program for what I wanted to do. As I was on the high of just being excited for life, it wasn’t soon after when the anxiety set in. I was going to move to a city where I knew no one. It was mind boggling to me that my parents would even let me live in some random city, but at the same time I am an adult now and I can make these decisions. The reality set in quite harshly.

Looking back now, the emotions of intense anxiety and excitement seem incredibly valid. The world I knew was going to be taken from me for the sake of my growth. I think now I approach emotion and artistry in dance differently though. In my past blogs, I’ve mentioned the overarching guilt I felt when I wasn’t dancing or doing something that wouldn’t progress me further academically. Just the idea of relaxation turned into intense mental scrutiny. As much as I love dancing and working intentionally in and out of classes, just because I have hobbies doesn’t mean that I don’t work hard. I’ve split my free time evenly between what will progress me inside the classroom and what feeds me emotionally and keeps me happy and productive. You can only portray emotions to an audience, if you have a deep understanding of them. These past couple of months in college have allowed me to grow as a person in ways I wouldn't be able to back at home. 

Outside of dance, I’ve decided to try other endeavors in the arts. Back home I played the flute for about 9 years and since I’ve been missing the feeling of being in a band and creating music from scratch, I thought maybe I should try music producing. Granted whatever I’ve been making hasn’t been the best, but it's keeping me content. I would’ve never even tried to do something like this a year ago. The sheer thought of it intimidated me. So far, I like it a lot. I feel no pressure to be great at something I just started, but instead I get pleasure that I’m doing something new that’ll help me hear music differently. Maybe I’ll become more attentive to the keys songs are in or the changing time signatures in some. I’m not too sure how starting music production will change me, but I’m excited to see where it takes me. 

I'm sure it wouldn't shock you to know that I love to write. I would love to dive more into writing screenplays. I’ve taken a course about playwriting in the summer going into my sophomore year at The School of New York Times (a program that I can’t recommend more) and I’ve realized recently that writing for dance can have similarities to writing for film. I’ve taken it upon myself to add stories to what I do, even if it is simple movement across the floor as it helps build artistry, but I’ve wondered about ways to portray that through films and TV. I think the media we consume constructs the strength of empathy we have, so I would want to portray stories that invoke a sort of consciousness from my audience. I would love to delve into writing sci-fi that parallels the world we are in today, or personify inanimate objects for the sake of an allegory. My sense of purpose has switched in a way that I want to be passionate about things other than dance, not for the sake of being multifaceted but because the passion is just as strong as the passion to dance.