kahunahula

photo by jaden rose, 2009.

last night’s gig at mission rock was fun and mellow.  a small contingent of solar flare broke out our led tools and came to spin in support of a benefit for leukemia.  we had a solid warm up jam at one of the nearly-empty dancefloors (always feel a little bad for djs playing to mostly empty space), then made our way to the crowded outdoor stage that juts out over the water to do our thing.

performing in such a tight space with a crowd that doesn’t realize you are supposed to be performing there is a little tricky.  we had one guy get a little belligerent when we started opening up the space.  i can understand the frustration of suddenly not having the dance space you want, i need room to do my thing, too, but he was being a jerk about it.  fortunately, it resolved itself.  i’ve had to deal with a few of these confrontations before, particularly at clubs where space is a premium.  the worst is when i manage to completely coldcock somebody in the face or drink with an errant hoop.  hard not to feel bad about it, even if it kind of baffles me how you can walk directly into my spinning, lit hoop and act surprised.  what part of that didn’t you see coming?

anyway, the space on the deck mid-crowd turned out to be too small for what we all had in mind.  karen and i tried to do the duet we worked on for conclave, but kept tagging chairs and being interrupted by drunks thinking this was the best time for a conversation.  it disintegrated into a short jam, then we called it.

later, we moved upstairs as a group to hang out and spin sporadically in the larger space.  i think this was my favorite part of the evening: led hooping with considerably more room to work with, in lower light conditions to louder music.  plus, love to rock the ilaniowear soft machine pants.  never get to wear any faux fur when i firespin, for obvious reasons.  i must have spun off and on for a good hour (HooppaiN!) before downshifting to dancing.  the last minute led tape job was a godsend- i sacrificed some glowiness to bring some serious control to my led, to counter the history of slippage in similar circumstances.

(check out the eventvibe photos by dirk wyse here.  there are a number of solar flarista shots if you look around this gallery)

ultimately, what made the night really great was chilling and playing with my bay area ohana.  look forward to doing it again at the love parade this weekend.

yes!

the new dedicated site is up. lots to do to get it where i want it to be, but i’m really happy to finally have kahunahula central a reality.  big thanks to dbug for making it possible.

i’ve reposted some of my recent hooping.org and hooppain.com posts below for your entertainment.

it always takes me a bit to readjust to daily life post-playa. my friend asked me a couple of weeks ago how my reentry was going. i told him i was still falling, smoking through the atmosphere.

that being said, without a doubt, burning man is my absolute favorite place to hoop. so much room! it’s all flat! great music emanating from every direction! generally less breakables! appreciative audiences!

though i didn’t end up hooping as much as i expected to, i still hooped a hell of a lot. even my hoops look like they need a nap. lots of hoop minstrelling; lots of impromptu jump-off-the-art-car-and-boogie hoopgasms. and, fortunately, the gigs went well. all of my shiva vista stage spins were fun. the irish dance piece was a big hit. felt delightful performing it. also, a small solar flare contingent pulled off a kickass show at the mal label gig. at another point, we opened up the pulsing crowd at opulent temple. i got a couple of serious skyscraper tosses in. and no major accidents.

photo by ryan wilson, 2009.

by far, my favorite regular, non-fire spin was in a dust storm late in the week outside of hookahdome. just me and my practice hoop enveloped in a vortex of white. at times i could only see about a foot in front of me. the ambient music was meditative and similarly engulfing. i found my zone quickly, channeling my inner whirling dervish to dance with the elements. it is a little challenging to hoop in goggles and a dust mask (so hot), but there is nothing like getting truly dusted by the playa. like being bathed by the wind. the most spiritual hooping moment i’ve had this year.

my favorite led spin was probably at opulent temple saturday night. it was actually a rather off night for me, my lady was sick, my bike had just been stolen, i was exhausted on multiple levels, and i couldn’t find my friends. nevertheless, i persevered and zoned deeply a few times. a photographer walked up to me when i was mainlining h2o and showed me several great shots he’d taken. led’s certainly lend themselves well to photography. i’ll share when i get a hold of the pix.

my favorite fire spin was on the shiva vista stage. like last year, i was happy to have gotten on shiva early in the week, ensuring that it actually happened. things just got too crazy later on. (so hard to coordinate increasingly tweaked out burners, self included.) my first two spins saw me sharing space with some of my favorite fire performers. i felt honored to be up there with them. dipping for my third spin, i realized i was finally warmed up and relaxed. miraculously, the stage cleared. i heard enthusiastic screams from friends as i walked up the ramp for a solo spin. great crowd. great music. me mostly in my zone. with fire cannons as accents. fantastic. you just can’t beat that.

as for the big event itself, my first realized performance in conclave was a bit of a saga. one of the biggest dust storms of the week hit saturday. so, like last year’s “nonclave”, we were on standby for hours, trying not to be depressed by the possibility of getting cancelled a second year in a row. even while we were art car-ing it out to our position in the great circle, i feared we were toast. it was like being in an antarctica movie- it was a struggle to get set up in the still vibrant storm. i had to continuously use eye drops to keep my contact lenses from stinging. at one point, i stepped away from the group and chanted a bit for it to happen. then, like in a story, the air cleared and we were suddenly, clearly a “go”.

it felt amazing to be able to celebrate months of hard work with my friends as a gift to the community, honoring the burning of the man. it was a special night. the only drawback to the performance was that the winds remained gusty-had to refrain from doing any of my high tosses since i couldn’t ensure that i could do them safely. but, regardless, after two years of work it was a joy to be there, doing what i love. on my first burn i determined to be in conclave. years later it is a part of my memory. to be honest, i think i’m just still in shock that it finally happened.

photo by steven walker, 2009.

separate from performing, of course, one of the joys of the playa is getting to spend a little time with some wonderful hoopers i get to see infrequently. this year was no exception. got lots of warm hugs from some great peeps from all over. in addition to the usual joy of seeing friends happily hooping, i finally got to meet and see brecken in action. absolutely amazing-i was blown away. shakti and michelle were also really inspiring with their exceptionally beautiful flow. the skill level of some hoopers these days is beyond belief.

it has taken a bit for my body to rebound from the trip. i had to battle soreness, the heat, lack of sleep, an air mattress when sleep actually happened, and that intense hoop-generated thirst all week. been focusing on rebuilding, renewing and recharging. feeling less like a battered turnip.

but serious practice resumes. just got an invite to spin fire at a club in a couple days, and decompression, that after-playa taste of playa, is only weeks away. we’re doing the firish dance again. need to get back up to speed.

a big dusty hug to all of you who joined me in representing the hoop community on the playa. that was a great burn. you are all fantastic. see you next year.

photo by steven walker, 2009.

encased in the deep shadowed box of the surrounding warehouse buildings, the front of the club is bathed in midnight neon light. a crowd of about thirty mingle raucously at the front by the dj table, cornered like freak cattle behind temporary metal barriers. little groups of talking people, drinks in hand. those gaggles of connection, intrigue, boredom and flirtation. the air thick with cigarette smoke and pheremones. a handful of partiers approaches from the distance in outrageous costumes, the women swaying with arms crossed as they try to navigate the cold, parked cars, and the oil-stained gravel in high heels.

the music is throbbing. it makes me want to move.

taking deep breaths and stretching to calm my nerves, i try to loosen up. my right shoulder is still a little sore from the beach thing, spinning fire as a gift to a graduating group of junior high school students. that gig absolutely kicked my ass. i needed a sherpa just to get back to the car. the soft sand is so taxing to move in, like doing jumping jacks in jello. i had to do more isolations when my legs got exhausted. it about killed dna, too. absolutely love them. a truly great couple doing it right. friends i always enjoy spending time with. and, they know how to put on a show.

final costume adjustments. pull up my socks. loosen the knee pads. package comfortable? waistband? run a grateful hand through the already damp hair before putting back on my black hat. i’m dressed in long, black, billowy thai wraparound pants, black sketchers and socks, black half gloves, an arm band, and the necklace my lady gave me. love rocking the black. a little cold being bare chested, but i’ll be warm in the fire. it’s a wonder i’ve come so far with being comfortable having my torso exposed. i remember too clearly feeling mostly like an irritated, beached whale, never wanting to share my belly with anybody. feeling slimmer and tighter again, almost where i was post-playa last year. nice to feel sexy. does a self good.

ditching the gum. a little more water. more. another breath. k is spinning his staff off in the middle of the street. the fuel is tucked away from the performance area, by the trash cans at the side of the club. a few feet away, one of the door guys looks bored out of his mind; the other is lasciviously looking at a brunette in a short skirt. she’s got a nice ass.

“we’re on”

i walk to the fuel, adjusting my gloves. i need to tailor their replacements- don’t like they way one of them is starting to curl at my palm. my fire hoop is resting against the wall, six blackened spokes speaking of the recent practice. i’ve beaten the hell out of that thing learning how to firehoop. but, i can’t wait for the new one to arrive. can’t wait for new wicks. i wonder what kind of adjustment it will be transitioning to a considerably lighter hoop?

i pick up my green and black, battle firehoop, double check that the wicks are screwed in tightly. once over of the hoop. relatively circular? tape tight? good.

kneeling to open up my ammo can. the sticker on the side says, “cleverly disguised as a responsible adult”. it’s about 3/4 full with lamp oil and white gas. as i crack the lid, i’m hit with that familiar fuel smell that seeps into my clothing. try not to breath it in- don’t want to think about toxicity issues at the moment. my wicks look worn out. beat the hell out of them, too, and this is like my, what, forth or fifth set of wicks?

as each one goes into the fuel bath, i start the slow count to ten in my head, and turn to see how the performance is progressing. k is getting into his zone. he is one of the most graceful staff spinners i’ve seen. great flow.

7-8-9-10. i pull the dripping wick out, shaking it lightly. rotate clockwise to the next wick. submerge. two. 2. 3. turn my head back to the fire.

the crowd is loving the show. what started as a few similarly turned heads has mushroomed into a dedicated, delighted audience, 3 or 4 rows deep. more people are coming outside to watch, squeezing in to poise their drinks somewhat precariously over the waist-high barricades.

10. rotate. submerge. three. 2. 3.

“great spin man”, i yell as k comes over to put down his staff. he’s bathed in a sheen of sweat- a little flushed. he’s got his relaxed smile on, the smoke from his tired wicks trailing behind him into the night air. he reminds me of a cheshire cat who has just apparated. (is apparated actually a word or am i just quoting harry potter?)

“thanks.” he replies.

“how’d it feel?”

“it felt good… there were a few things i wanted to do, but…..yeah…yeah, it was good… you ready to rock it like a bad motherfucker?”

“always”, i grin. i close the can, struggling a bit with the clasp one-handed, as my soaked hoop waits in my other outstretched hand. i stand up, adjust the back of my kneepads again (ouch) and walk away to shake off the excess fuel. the music is still pumping. sweet.

wish i’d taken a piss. fuck.

away from the activity, i whip the hoop a few times in my right hand vertically, the excess fuel spraying off into the air. it’s a fine balance. i don’t want to spray the audience with napalm, but i want as much fuel as i can burn. these wicks always go out too quickly. the new ones will make a difference, but i’m starting to wonder how much the speed at which i hoop plays a part?

i start loping back to the performance area in time with the music. shake off my shoulders. big exhale. time to get into character. wish i had my sunglasses.

j is just finishing up with double fire hoops. she is a born performer: charming, sexy, graceful. inherently knows how to connect with an audience. i admire how quickly she can transition into performing. sometimes i hit it. sometimes only for a moment; sometimes i’m deep blissing in my flow for an orgasmic timelessness. sometimes i chase it without ever achieving it.

nice move. she’s got one firehoop at her waist, the other atop her outstretched hand.

she dances back momentarily and sees me. she is almost done- her wicks are starting to sputter out. i shift more attention to the music. try to anticipate where the transitions might be. j winks that she is about ready to switch.

i close my eyes and breath. alright, let’s do this like a buddhist, kahunahula! all you’ve got! engage. if you fuck up, recover. find the flow. and don’t take it so seriously. it’s just a fucking hula hoop. have a blast!

j bows and pirouettes back with one remaining lit wick. the crowd is cheering wildly. rush of adrenaline. in a familiar sequence of movement she starts lighting my wicks. as each one catches, the bright light flares up, the dark smoke begins and another voice is added to the chorus of white noise. i make sure my hands and costume are away from the flames. as i wait for the final wicks to light in that purgatory.

click. one wick won’t light. click of lighter. click. click. dammit. (i know i dipped them all. hate to go on with an unlit wick but don’t want to burn too much fuel lighting.)

there it goes. it’s windier than it looks; even starting to gust a little bit. will need to keep that in mind. keep my tosses low at first and see what the drift is like.

“thank you”

i turn towards the audience. i am met with a wash of cheering, expectant faces beyond the glare of the flames. i walk to the center of the space and adjust my hoop to a place of beginning. jack directly into the music. almost at the transition. 4. 3. 2…

breath. and commit.

photo by kylla benes, 2009.

here is an unedited version of my recent hooping.org firehooping post

the intensity of the light. the tangible vortex of heat. that throaty fire-moving-through-air-white-noise-whoosh pulsing around your body. the smell of smoke and fuel with a hint of burnt hair. playing with darkness and light, wind and air.

i love fire hooping. i find it unique among my hooping experiences. while there are limits to the moves that i can safely translate from regular hooping to fire, i find the challenge interesting and the process of discovery intoxicating. there is absolutely nothing like getting into the flow with fire.

since i’m seeing more and more new faces, i thought i’d share a few things i’ve learned that can help those new to firehooping. i remember having tons of questions, even after reading everything i could get my hands on. i will reiterate a few basics that have been posted previously here and elsewhere, but i hope even old timers will get something useful out of this. i will touch base on fear of fire, equipment considerations, and safety suggestions.

the one thing that freaks people out the most is the what-if-something-goes-wrong-and-i set-myself-on-fire issue. people always ask me if i get burned. yep. lots. i spin fire 2-3 times a week; the hair on my forearms has an eternally scorched crew cut. particularly when working on new off-the-body moves, my forearms can get licked in flames. sometimes this means a light burn, sometimes not. (i personally prefer not to have my forearms covered) every once in awhile my hand or shoulder gets a hot kiss. really, that’s about it. i have an aloe burn gel that works really well; the burns heal quickly. the moral of the story is that, yes, you will probably get burned at some point, but it’s not that big of a deal. there is a lot you can do to minimize the risk. the truth is i am far more irritated at having my stuff reek like fuel.

i didn’t have a whole lot of experience with moving open flame prior to getting into firehooping. a campfire or candle just sits there looking pretty, nothing like half a dozen spokes of death in your immediate vicinity, under your (sorta) control. there is definitely an inherent danger in firehooping . fire is powerful. putting it in close proximity to your body is not something to be taken lightly. i’ve heard about some bad accidents in the fire community, particularly with poi getting wrapped around heads and limbs. fortunately, a firehoop won’t entangle you like that.

on some firehoops it’s the metal that is the real danger, rather than the flame. you know the trick you learned as a kid of moving your finger quickly through a small flame on a lighter? now remember touching the iron? it was the iron that left the mark. the best burn i ever got, now completely healed, was in the shape of the head of a screw. watch those metal bits!

photo by steven walker, 2009.

personally, i think it is important to build up a solid set of hooping skills before you light up for the first time. firehooping is technically more complex than normal hooping: you have all these pokey, hot things to deal with, often in low light conditions. it makes sense to build up a substantial familiarity with the hoop before taking the step to fire.

once you’re ready to flame on, you’ll need a firehoop that is the right diameter and weight for you. you want to be comfortable in it. that being said, i tend to like a slightly heavier hoop for the initial learning phase of firehooping. building muscle memory is easier with a little heft to work with. but, no doubt, a heavier hoop means it takes more out of you. don’t be surprised if you find yourself completely exhausted in the middle of your initial spins.

there is an increasing variety of firehoops available: attached/detachable wicks, rigid/floppy spines, led/fire combo hoops, collapsable, doubles, etc. i suggest trying a few different types before committing to one. you can also make your own. since i’m a better hooper than craftsman, i prefer to trust someone else’s skill in building a firehoop. plus, it’s cool to support the small businesses that hooping has created. the point is that you want a firehoop that is sturdy, balanced, and a good fit.

you have a few fuel options: white gas, lamp oil, kerosene, color additives, etc. i prefer a fuel mixture of 60/40 lamp oil to white gas. that way you get a bright, easy lighting, flame that will last. it is a little smokier and dimmer than just white gas, but i like to torque the hell out of my hoop and need that extra oil to keep the wicks burning longer. the one big downside with lamp oil is that it can make your spin area slippery. as to other options, i’m told that kerosene is super smoky: unfortunately, it seems to be one of the few fuel choices available around a good portion of the world. i generally stay away from the color additives. my understanding is that the pretty blue flame you see is supplied by a chemical in bug spray. no thanks. i figure i’m exposing myself to enough toxins with the fuel mix.

for fuel storage, after many different container trials, an ammo can is my favorite solution. it is metal, big enough to dip comfortably in low light conditions, easy to carry, and sealed. works great. you can get them in army surplus/used camping gear stores.

in addition to your firehoop and fuel, you’ll need some support gear. over the years i’ve assembled a basic firekit which includes all that i need to spin fire. i use a yoga bag to carry my collapsable hoop and firekit. inside, i use a medium-sized toiletry bag to protect my wicks and for the rest of the miscellany.

here is what is in my firekit:

aloe burn gel
advil
duvetyn
gloves
knee pads (kneeling on rocky ground or cement hurts)
hat
safety pins (for those clothing items that just won’t cooperate)
misc hoop supplies (extra tape, extra connectors, extra wicks)
wrench
headlamp
scissors (for trimming wicks)
water
lighters (i can’t tell you how many times i’ve been surrounded by 20 spinners with no means of lighting a fire)

the first time i lit up, i was very fortunate to have the support of a couple of top-notch firehoopers who graciously guided me through the process. it made all of the difference in my sense of safety and overall comfort level. definitely have someone experienced walk you through your first few burns, if you can.

when firehooping the first few times, i suggest focusing on just familiarizing yourself with the unique environment, the weight of the hoop, the heat, the brightness, the smoke, etc. take your time. as you grow more comfortable with it, you can start exploring your normal range of movement, staying aware of the position of the wicks/spines in relation to your body. in my experience, most burns happen when i’m doing things off-the-body.

if you ever get in trouble, the easiest thing to do is drop the hoop and step away. also, you can always ask your safety to put your wicks out at any time for any reason.

there are a few other things you can do to maximize your enjoyment while minimizing your risk. here are my top ten safety suggestions:

1) make smart clothing choices. i know, the fun materials are all flammable. natural fibers, like cotton or hemp, are always best. when ignited, they will burn in and of themselves instead of melting to your skin like synthetics. not sure if what you are wearing is flammable? snip off a piece and carefully light it over an ashtray or sink. it will be very clear whether you want that material burning next to, or melting into, your skin.

but you still want to wear the shiny one? one solution is to sew an inner, safer layer under the synthetics, giving you a protective barrier. one clever suggestion i’ve heard is to use ironing board fabric as the underlying layer.

also, try spinning in your fancy clothing with your firehoop unlit before lighting up. things snag, flowy bits get in the way, suddenly you don’t have the range of motion you are used to, etc. better to figure this stuff out before you have burning wicks to deal with.

skin is in. the natural stickiness of skin helps add that extra bit of control that is useful when hooping, in general, but is particularly helpful when spinning fire. obviously, be comfortable, but the more skin you have available, the more (potential) control you have.

2) protect your head. the way i hoop, my hair is just asking to be toast (and i simply don’t have enough to spare as it is). i almost always wear a hat. you can also wet down your hair, if you prefer.

even with a hat, it’s a good idea to wait until the flames have died down a bit to do any tricks that bring the flame close to your face. i’ve scorched eyebrows and eyelashes a few times. partially singed eyelashes just look funny.

3) designate a safe area for fuel. a tree. a rock. a curb. whatever. keep all of your fuel there and don’t spin anywhere near this space. make it a communal effort to keep the drunk idiot with the cigarette away.

4) double check your hoop/spines/wicks before each spin. you should give your entire hoop a once over before you dip, paying particular attention to the spines/wicks. if the spines are the screw-in type, they can come loose. (you should check the permanent spines, too: i’ve almost been brained by a not-so-permanently attached permanent spine that somehow came loose from a friend’s hoop) also, any frayed strings of kevlar should be trimmed from the wicks. this prevents flaming bits flying off. fire marshals don’t like frayed wicks. (i’m sure there is a good joke in there somewhere)

if you are using a collapsable firehoop with those plastic connector inserts, i suggest covering them with tape to keep them from snagging or scratching.

5) use safeties. hangups about using safeties abound, but it is just foolish not to have someone there to put you out if you are in trouble. clothing can catch fire without you noticing it. safeties should have duvetyn or a wet towel ready to go, and be watching your spin. here is some good fire safety information from temple of poi. make sure anyone volunteering to safety actually knows what they are doing. if not, take the time to teach them “hands-on” how to do it correctly.

6) let others know what is in your fuel mix. if you share your fuel with other people be sure to let them know if there is lamp oil (or anything other than white gas) in the mix before they dip. this is particularly true for other fire tools.

7) spin off. i still routinely see firehoops that have not been completely spun off. this results in a sputtering firey circle of death flying every which way. dangerous and avoidable.

lightly shaking off a newly dipped wick over your dip can is not enough. you need to spin off as well. my preferred way to spin off is to spin the hoop vertically over my outstretched hand a few revolutions, away from my body, avoiding the spray. the other way i’ve seen it done is to hold the hoop horizontally and whip it in a wide swath away from the body. you need to rotate the hoop and repeat until all wicks have been spun off. either way, you need some space away from everything else for this.

8) be aware of your surroundings. do you really have enough space to firehoop safely? is the ground even? is it windy? are there tree limbs in the way of that toss you can’t wait to try? is that person actually trying to come up and dance with you right now?

weird things can and do happen. if you are spinning with others, all kinds of flaming tools can end up in your spinning space unexpectedly. it is also easy to get disoriented within the light, heat and sound of the fire.

to make matters worse, you can cause mayhem without knowing it. i finished a spin at a large fire gathering and noticed i was missing a wick. checking with the safeties, i found out it had broken during my spin and been launched a good thirty feet towards the crowd. could have been bad. totally unforeseen and unnoticed until the end.

always double check your clearance before attempting tosses. you may not be in the same space you thought you were in.

9) once your spin is done, make sure your wicks are all out. i’ve seen several instances wherein spinners exiting the play/performance space don’t realize they still have a wick on fire. i’ve also seen other tools light up accidentally from wicks that looked like they were out. wicks and spines are still hot, even when the flame is out. let them cool down before redipping.

10) give yourself time. learning to play with fire takes practice. you may feel very limited in what you feel safe doing for quite awhile. the more you practice, lit and unlit, the more comfortable you will become.

i also thoroughly recommend stepping outside of the hoop-blinders to spin with other people using other fire tools (poi, staff, fans, etc.). you will learn an incredible amount from the greater fire community.

other than that, have fun with it. there is no space quite like the magical vortex within a spinning firehoop. playing with fire has it’s own challenges, but preparation, skill, awareness and common sense go a long way in making it safer than it looks. treat the fire with respect and you should be fine.

feel free to contribute your wisdom or feedback.

i’ll see you in the circle.

photo by mairead maheigan, 2009.

one evening a few months back, my friend pixie and i were talking about her idea of combining fire dancing with irish dancing. she had a strong background in irish dancing and wanted to explore combining her two passions; my only exposure being those lords of dance shows and my sister’s hysterical imitation. pixie and i had been wanting to work with eachother for some time and both liked the idea of doing a duet: her on staff and me on hoop. had a nice, gender balanced, non-traditionalism about it.

last night, after months of work, we performed the piece for the rest of our fire troupe as a sort of audition for the fire opera that we put on every year on the playa with salon soleil. (don’t worry, no opera is actually involved). while the central story of our firish dance is being told with hoop and staff, the group has grown to include fans, poi and a never-before-seen super-secret fire tool. definitely still a work in progress, but it was time to share.

the performance felt pretty good. i’m a perfectionist, by nature, and see much to work on, but i walked away happy. it’s funny, that’s the first time i’ve felt nervous spinning fire in front of my troupe in a long time. i think the underlying difficulty i’m facing is that i’m still finding myself mid-performance focusing a lot on the technical aspects of what we are doing, when i really want to step beyond that and spin deep into my flow. i know that will come with time and practice, but i’m impatient. i can’t wait to know instinctively where i need to be and what i need to be doing, to be able to synch myself into that vortex of flow that i think is inherent in any spin.

photo by mairead maheigan, 2009.

i find the piece challenging on two levels:

first of all, it is one of the more demanding hoop pieces i’ve choreographed so far. i’m pulling out a lot more stops in this one, stepping outside of my comfort zone. i hoop hard and fast near the beginning, do some close, intricate fire interactions, and end with a toss from the knees. (still don’t have that toss solid) endurance is an issue.

secondly, irish dance- an entirely new experience of physical and mental challenge. i have some relatively recent dance experience with tango, but really, hooping has been my main introduction to actually having some real body awareness in movement. i’m a bit of a klutz at heart. irish dance works me hard. i’m a panting, pool of sweat by the end of the routine.

trying to rock the hoop hard, doing often counterintuitive dance steps, while assembling an interesting fire dialogue between hoop and staff has been an arduous, but fun, adventure. pixie and her sister have been gracious in teaching me where my feet need to be when, and i’ve honored their time by practicing. i remember feeling super silly when i first started hooping. i only wanted to do it in private because i was so embarrassed at my complete lack of dexterity. felt like a spastic hippo most of the time. it has made me laugh having similar twinges while braving irish dance.

we’ve spent a couple of months in a studio choreographing and practicing before firing up. working in front of a large mirror with space and a loud sound system for a reasonable rate has been absolutely worth it. we would not be where we are now without having had the chance to work in the studio. it has been the perfect space to let the piece evolve in. with time available, i prefer to avoid the stress of figuring out each and every element of a routine from the outset. (the one exception to this is that i do like to commit to the music as early as possible. nice to have a solid, shared frame of reference.) i think it is a bit easier to find one’s flow when working on a piece that has benefitted from organic growth. you can develop things towards your strengths, identifying where you want to add an extra bit of challenge, and letting the muscle memory build over time. it has taken some faith to combat my impatient nature; i’ve had to reassure myself more than once that we would figure something out for this or that tricky part. unharried progress has been the reward for my patience. now that we’ve tried it lit up a few times, we have to make those additional adjustments to account for the reality of spinning with fire. polishing, polishing, polishing.

when i think of how far we’ve come on this piece, it makes me really appreciate pixie for having the initial vision and the passion to make it a reality. i’m really glad i jumped at the opportunity to try something new. regardless of how the playa performances go, this has been one of those afterschool special life lessons on the value of the process. that’s pretty cool.

i think it bodes well for things to come.

tonight was one of my last fire practices before burning man. i realized that as i was dipping for the third time. it has been a long haul.

i am putting final touches on two pieces: a duet with another hoop and a special irish dance/fire performance combo that i’ve been working on with staff, fans, and poi. add to that regular fire troupe practice to work on the overall conclave performances, like our giant cats cradle flaming rope mandala, and i’ve been practicing regularly two to three times a week for several months.

it makes me very happy to practice consistently on choreographed pieces. when you can ingrain your movements into your subconscious, you can focus on the artistry of the moment instead of trying to remember what you are supposed to do next. i once heard someone say, “your performance is only as good as your practice”.   i totally agree.

photo by kylla benes, 2009.

one of the best things i ever did was join a multidisciplinary fire troupe. besides giving me regular access to practice firehooping, the troupe has made it possible to work with other tools like poi and staff. constantly figuring out how to make complementary, engaging, coordinated movements with another tool has given me a much stronger level of hoop control. it has also opened up entirely new ideas for movement. the consistency has brought me to the highest level of comfort i’ve felt with fire to date.

anyway, i’m excited. we have a great troupe this year. we are much more accustomed to working together and are a much tighter unit. everyone has been putting in the practice time and it shows. the last few pre-playa gigs we’ve done have been fantastic.

after the hoop activities on thursday die down, i invite you to come see solar flare and salon soleil’s fire opera at 9pm (camp tetrion, 7:45 and esplanade). there is no opera involved, just lots of great fire spinning tied together by our funny-as-hell frontman. we will also be at 1 o’clock in the fire conclave the night of the burn.

come see what we’ve been practicing.

when i first started hooping, i stuck to the discipline of hooping every single day without fail for at least an hour. i did this for several years. it was one of the best decisions i ever made. i built a hooping foundation that has been the basis for a level of expression and flow i never would have dreamed of. these days, with the playa performances on the horizon, i’ve been challenging myself to try to return to that daily discipline. i want to be at the top of my game when that magical week of burning is our shared reality.

it was going well until a few days ago. after three hardcore firehoop practices and two gigs in one week, i found myself in that total worn out-zone. that body-feels-like-oatmeal place of low energy and sore shoulders. the notion of another round of heavy hooping to come just made me feel more tired.

so i took a few days off.

pestered by hoop guilt, i would shyly glance at my hoops from time to time thinking, “maybe i’ll just loosen up my back a bit”…”what if i try that toss across my body?…(or the eternal) i really need to work on my reverse current…” but checking in with my body, the message was clear: it was still mad at me. i let the reasonable part of me win the argument over the impatient part of me that likes to play, and just said no. go do something else.

lo and behold, after a few days of downtime i started feeling better. i found myself once again looking forward to the upcoming hooping opportunities. of course, when i did finally pick up the hoop again it felt great. everything loose, no soreness. body very happy. even flashes of inspiration. since then, i’ve gotten in several solid spins and feel fine.

breaks are good.

photo by donovan watts, 2007.