| Chapter 2: | Aquamarine Spring |
lived experience and understanding. She says the “discourse most valued by the academy distances us all … Women [she has] worked with—whether they are students or colleagues—most often prefer to write in a genre … that is closest to the heart” (2002, p. 7).
So I would like to create a heartful work that is accessible but I also want critique from the edges. I'm seeking the responses from those who can see in the outlying bands, on the fringes— those who can see the specifics with an informed eye. I've been thinking about a woman who did a short dance to represent her understanding at a conference. Ray Goodfriend says, “There's just so much about dance you can't absorb until you participate in it. Otherwise you just sit there and it either goes right by you or you become overwhelmed by it” (2002. p. 33). Yes, we always need something to attach newness to, a reference. We need to articulate our processes more. I noticed that after the performance there was a noticeably long silence—the kind that always follows something evocative but feels urgent. I used to be discouraged when I presented something in an artful way and no one said anything. Of course, there might be bubbly compliments but I always want a deeper response (though I'm not sure what that is). I like the advice Will gave me. He said that most of the time, people are overwhelmed and intimidated; they're not sure what to say and I shouldn't worry because the arts leave an impression—the realization or revelations are not so easily translated into words. So he says I may have more response at a later date or I may have none, but should know that my work has influenced and changed a path for many in that small moment of performance time. I appreciate this.
And about being disrespectful: I am only disrespectful because I can be! I just hope my directness builds a solid trusting relationship! Jane Gallop says the “crude and schematic is usually all too apt”