Something Lost in the Trinity River

Sitting on the cold hard rocks, over looking the Trinity River, the girl watched as the morning fog rolled over the water.  It was daybreak now, and yet the sky only shifted its value from black to gray.  There was no sunshine.  Sitting on the same rock as she had been for hours, she could no longer feel the rock beneath her, losing all feeling in her ass soaked in cold wet mud. She could not recall how long she had been there.

In the night she could make out the ripples of the current flowing down stream, around the bend, disappearing into nothingness.  The water itself was thick, the reflection of the moon giving it the appearance of liquid mercury.  All she could see was darkness poring out, leaking into the spaces between the tree branches that cast their distorted shadows on to the river.  The girl gazed at the calm and peaceful upper section of the river to her right, noticing its gentle and noiseless quality.  To her left, the riverbank narrowed and the current intensified, creating a dangerous undercurrent that trashed against a tree jetting from the side of the river bend.  She could not form a thought, her brain only allowing her to take in her environment, her mind still processing.  

Now that it was morning, she could barely make out the things beneath the murky river.  The random little explosions of water where the fish had come to the surface visually directed her attention from one splash to the next.  She spotted the large scrap of metal hidden in the dark depths of the river, which sent a single but significant shiver up her spine.  She never realized how deep the water was, passing by this river so many times as a child.  She stared transfixed into the darkness of the shadow in the water, losing herself in it. 

Suddenly, the sound of traffic and cars jolted her out of her hypnotic state, ambulance sirens off in the distance.  The girl flirted with the idea of leaving but after realizing that there was no one left to miss her, she remained on the rock.  She expanded her view, looking at the large gray buildings, restaurants, roads, and bridges that beset the water.  She noticed the twenty-story power plant across the river and saw the pool of oil oozing from the building, creating a silver rainbow of sludge floating atop the surface.  Looking over at the adjacent hill, her eyes scanned down from the tear in the guardrail, to the tire tracks, to the river.  The water flowing over the smoothened rocks trickled down the brook just as the tears trickled down her face.

The wind began blowing, forcing the trees to lose their red autumn leaves.  They fell down in front of her, grazing a pool of water formed in the crevice of a rock. She realized she was unconsciously gripping clumps of dirt in her hands.  When she finally opened her palm, the blood rushed back to her fingers, returning the pink pigment to them.  The dirt overflowed onto the ground, leaving her hands completely filthy and revealing the number of scratches she obtained.  She began taking swipes at her hands, attempting to rid herself of the filth.  She continued to rub them raw until she noticed that there was a left over shard of glass perturbing from her forearm.   

Shocked that she hadn’t noticed it all this time, she removed the single shard of glass carefully, making sure it stayed intact.  As the redness overtook her arm, she stood up struggling to find her center of gravity. After allowing her body to gain consciousness, the girl proceeded to walk down the hill to the edge of the water.

As the entirety of her arm sunk underneath the surface, the chilling water pierced her skin, pouring heavily into her flesh wound.  All of the grime and blood and filth that covered her skin were no more. It all too was now lost in the river.  

For the first time she stood up straight, water dripping down off of her extended fingertips, the wind tangling her soft brown hair.  As she turned to leave the place where she would never return, she whispered to the river, “you’ve taken everything from me.”  Slowly turning her back from the waters edge, the girl disappeared into the early morning fog.   

The view from my back porch….

The view from my back porch….

I live 15 minutes down a county road outside of the town Eureka Springs, Arkansas. My house that my mom and dad build together sits on top of a large hill with a large meadow directly behind our house. The meadow of tall/ short grass, depending on how recently my father or brother has mowed, reaches to a tree line and from their shoots down a ravine into a nature filled forest. I am smack dab in the middle of the Ozark Mountains, a mountain range older then the Rockies and famous for its lush and beautiful landscape. It is interesting that when pondering my unique view from my back porch, memories of my father and I immediately come to mind.

My favorite time to sit out on my back porch is during sunset. The orange, pink, purple, and blue sky melts together with hints of white puffy clouds brushing over the warm and radiant light of the departing sun. When picturing my sunset at home I see my father and I sitting out at our outside table sipping wine, the smell of freshly grilled chicken, barbeque, stakes, and fish on the grill. At night, the sky lights up for the most spectacular view of the night sky and the different constellations. I have memories of sitting with my dad outside on a nice spring night when I was little when their was a full moon and he would make up different bedtime stories about “Great Big Moon” and “Itty Bitty Star.” This is one of my most cherished memories of my childhood and it all took place on my big back porch in the Ozarks. 

Something that scared you...

This semester I was required to create a junior dance work for my choreography class that we cast dancers for, set up weekly rehearsals to create and craft the piece, and then perform it at the end of the semester for our facility, fellow dancers in the department, and for a grade.

My concept was to use recorded text in place of music to see if audience members could made a connection between the human bodies that they saw and the words that they heard. I wanted to explore embodying the text with choreographic movement and allowed my abstract phrases to be formed from and inspired by the piece of writing I chose. Recorded my roommate Mickey narrating a expert from the book “House of Leaves.” In the section, a man is alone in the basement of a tattoo shop where he works and is all of the sudden attacked by a creature of questionable form. I chose the section of literature because it was so vivid and descriptive that it evoked scared emotions within me. I wanted that to translate in my piece. 

To do research for this project, I thought about what scares me. When I was growing up I would have the same recurring nightmare of someone breaking into our house that is out on a county road far from town and murdering different members of my family. I know this sounds horrifying but its true! It was always a different storyline but it was the same dream. I remember being so frighten walking down our long hallway at night with the different reflections of the outside lights casting wired shadows from the trees, and having multiple corners in our living room, your imagination always wondered if someone was hiding up against the wall.

Recalling these nightmares and that pure fear that you experience as a kid, I tried to tap into that when creating the piece and suggested that my dancers do the same. My soloist for the piece, Lexy, said that after rehearsal one night she actually when home and had a scary dream about the piece. She said that she was in a weird place that was a combination of her house and a creepy warehouse. She said that in the corner of the room their was a huge stain on the ceiling and it was dripping a black substance that was forming into a human figure in the corner of the room. I felt bad that my project gave her nightmares but I decided to incorporate the different descriptive aspects she gave me about her dream into the piece, even adding a water dripping effect to a certain section in the recording.  

A time you went… River Floating

My absolute favorite thing to do when I am home in Arkansas is go river floating with my friends.  I have been river floating on the White, Kings, and Buffalo Rivers, usually riding in a two person canoe or a one person kayak. One time me and six of my friends went on a three day, two night float/camping trip on the Buffalo river.

My three girl friends and I packed up all of our equipment the night before and prepared pre-made foil dinners that had delicious veggies, garlic, and seasonings. We all helped tie down the canoes and kayaks to the top of our cars, which is always a funny adventure in and of its self, and headed down the road to the put-in spot an hour away from our houses.

We have so much fun on the river, sometimes paddling through rough rapids, maneuvering through tight spots or under trees, or just allowing the current to easily take us down stream. We stop, eat, swim, climb, and above all take in the beautiful nature around us. At one point in the trip, my friend Abbie and I were leading the pack in a canoe and discovered a mountain lion running across a leveled area in a rock formation, ducking away into a slit in the rocks. We found out later that our friends did not see the mountain lion but saw its little cubs that were hidden in the rocks. On that trip we also say dozens of snakes, turtles, and even one large elk with huge horns.

When it started to get dark, we would pitch our tents, organize our camp site, and have fun on the sandy river bed. We would stay up and eat our dinner, have a late night swim, and lay out under the stars. 

Every time I think about home in Arkansas, I reminisce on the many memories I made with my friends on the river.  

Where is was when I first heard… Tchaikovsky

The first time I heard Tchaikovsky was when I was nine. I had been very dedicated to my dance classes and so my mom rewarded me by getting us tickets to the Nutcracker. I remember my mom forcing me to wear a dress and, being in my tom-boy stage, resisted at all costs. After I was dressed in my Sunday best, my mother got me in the car a drove an hour from our hometown to Fayetteville where the Kansas City Ballet was performing at the Walton Art Center. We picked up tickets from will call and got nestled into our seats.

I recall sitting in my seat after the deep man’s voice came on over the sound system and told us to silence our cell phones. At that point the house lights were brought down and the conductor was announced and took his place in front of the Orchestra. Sitting in front of that big red velvet curtain in all of the darkness and all of a sudden I heard Tchaikovsky Nutcracker Suite start to play. The curtain hadn’t even risen gone up yet but the rise and fall of the delicate music was enough to create a magical environment.

Once the curtain rose and I saw all of the dancers in their elegant costumes, I was completely engaged through out the whole performance. I later danced the role of a party girl in the 2003 Tulsa Ballet World Premiere of their Nutcracker. I played the role of a daughter of one of the dancer couples that attend the holiday party in the first act and being on stage gave my love and appreciation for the Nutcracker a whole other dimension.

I find that the first thing I think about when Christmas time comes around is that beautiful ballet. I now work at Texas Ballet Theater in their ticket department, so all I have been doing for the past month is selling TBT Nutcracker tickets, which are selling fast. It is amazing to me how many people in Fort Worth and neighboring communities make the Nutcracker a family holiday tradition. 

A family pet

I love my dogs Max and Mona. They are Rhodesian Ridgebacks and the have their own unique personalities. Rhodesian Ridgebacks are a large dog breed that are originally from Africa, having the role of hunting big game like lions in packs for their tribal owners. They have short red hair and have an interesting “ridge” on their back where their hair runs in the opposite direction, with two swirls of hair at the top of their back that converge to make a dagar down the length of their back. When my dogs get protective and growl at other dogs or curious people, this ridge stands up creating a hinena effect that can be quite scary. My dogs however are the biggest spoiled babies and wouldn’t hurt a fly… unless it was buzzing around some food.

 Max is a huge dog but is perfectly healthy and fit. His mother was an award wining Rhodesian Ridgeback and his father was actually from their home land of Africa. Max’s brothers and sisters in his litter all went on to be show dogs but Max had a birth defect that made him only have one swirl instead of two on his ridge. So even though he is one of the most beautiful and perfect dogs, we got him on discount. Max has such a beautifully stupid demeanor, we sometimes call him Kelso off of That’s 70’s Show. I always play and roughhouse with Max when I’m home, so every time I come home from college Max follows me around the house.

Mona is our other Rhodesian Ridgeback and she is one year younger than max. Mona, when you zoom in on her face, has the cutes puppy dogface ever, but when you zoom out, her body is so massive she looks like a huge warthog. She is terribly overweight and we always joke and blame it on her bad genes because she was a dog we got from Kansas. She is so lovable but at the same time pitiful when she tried and fails at getting up on the bed. My parents currently have her on a green bean diet and she has lost 10 pounds, bring her to a still ridiculous weight of 140 pounds.

Conversation Meeting #3 (the final meeting)

It was sad that on November 12th me and Adel had our last conversation. He told me that he would have to stop meeting with me due to the fact that he was leaving on his extended break to go with his family back home to Saudi Arabia. As a student in our foreign education program he has different term dates and won't be back till late January to start school again.
It was nice to hear that his Kids had fun over Halloween and that they embraced the american tradition of dressing up for Halloween. I was also really glad to hear that Adel's son was getting so much more comfortable at his new kindergarden and was making new friends! I asked Adel if he though having his kids in the American school system was good for them and he said that their are some advantage and disadvantages. One advantage is that his kid are quickly picking up English, his son already critiquing Adel's english word choices. I agreed with him saying that his kids will be so advanced already having the capacity to speak two language and being culturally knowledgeable about two very different ways of life. The only disadvantage he feels is that he doesn't want his kids to lose touch with their roots. This is why, once Adel is done with his schooling, his family is moving back to Saudi Arabia.
We later got on the subject of his Wife who's name I could not properly pronounce or spell. Adel mentioned that they had an arranged marriage and that his wife actually has the same grandfather as him, marry inside the family he says is common from where he's from. This being complete different from courtship in America, this was an interesting topic to me. He said that yes he did have some say in their marriage and that they are very happy together. He told me that he thought it was interesting that the Western culture sees how women are treated in his country like how they are not allowed to drive a car and how he thinks its ridiculous that we make such a big deal out of it. I disagreed with him saying that driving is a freedom and a independent right of an adult to travel as they please and how forcing women to ask for permission and be at the mans discretion of whether or not they can go anywhere seems unfair to me. He compared driving around his six sisters and his mother when he's at home to driving around princess Diana. He said its a honor to take them where they need to go and that people should me more concerned with the ridiculous number of car accidents due to stupidly high speed limits. I never knew that they had such an issue with car accidents and traffic violations but that did not change my opinion that women lose a inherent freedom when they are denied the right to drive. I realized after our last conversation that the only thing that I truly regretted not asking Adel was if he allowed his wife while she is in America to drive or not.... my guess is not.