Le Grand Jeté

“I don't want people who want to dance, I want people who have to dance.” 

George Balanchine

I followed his lead back to the subject of my costume trunk with a certain degree of levity.  And believe me when I tell you that a decade of classical ballet training allowed me to see that one coming from some distance.  But, to be honest, I would have followed him into the orchestra pit at that point.

I don’t know. But not to say, though, that I am necessarily a - that I want to make big expenditures or be pretentious. I don’t want to do that at all. I just am wanting, I just want to find, I want to mesh. Again, like with the motorcycle. I want to mesh an aesthetic of myself that fits with the way I feel I really am. And to the extent that consumer goods, you know: where this boot, this jean rolled up like that, this white t-shirt.  This is not, it’s not like I “oh this is just what was the closest thing.” No. All this stuff is studied. But then every human being every morning that gets dressed is making - ya know ...

I saw this guy one time, years ago, I remember when I was a kid. There was this man that pulled up at a gas station. And I was about sixteen and he jumped out of his car and he was wearing a pink - he was just wearing this pink jumpsuit, or something. And I just looked at him and I said “how could someone have that on” and then it occurred to me “so that guy - that is a very studied - that gentleman has gone to, you know, the ends of the earth to be that guy” that’s ...

And I would argue that irrespective of how ... it would be very difficult for you to convince me that your look today isn’t a studied look. That you came here, for this interview, and you wanted to have a certain look. And this look, for you, would be designed by you to evoke, from me, a certain response that would be more true to who you see yourself as. That it’s not a random thing. It’s not like you’re just “ah it doesn’t make any difference what I wear, what I look like. It’s all inside.”`

He was right. I had put considerable thought into my appearance.

And he was wrong.

I hadn’t the slightest desire to evoke a response from him that had anything to do with “who” I saw myself as.  I had even put some effort into concealing the details of my "self" from him in our correspondence.  I didn’t want who he thought that I was or was not to interfere with what I had to learn from him.  Which is probably what put such a ruffle on my feathers.

I wore black, for instance, so that I wouldn’t distract him with colors or patterns. I had tamed and pinned my hair.   In fact, almost every decision that I made that morning was guided by my reverence for what he had to say.

And what I was trying to convey to him is that I'm not against purchasing pretty things.  But I'm also not making those choices to communicate anything.  The process is more personal, and it happens (for the most part) at the point of purchase. 

I crave a world where we are all more mindful. Much more mindful. I believe in curating. I don’t like to take the can to the street more than once a month. The word heirloom is deeply meaningful and significant to me. Weddings or special events, a new job, should be an occasion to go shopping. But certainly not boredom.  You know?  And then you're not only limiting yourself but you've also made a purchase that serves as a keepsake.

I want to have an analytical and an emotional attachment to the things that I'm going to invest in.

Well that is a major function of where Confederate is. Because I’m interested in an economic model that does allow for growth and does allow for people to make wonderful things and to have an economically sufficient lifestyle. I see the only possible way of doing this in the future, for every person to have an opportunity to accomplish this, I see it as change which is more to where you’re at where you invest in fewer things but you keep them forever - you know more significant things.  

It was time.

It was time to ask him the question that was, for some reason, nagging me like a petulant child. It had been there from the very beginning and I hadn’t the slightest clue why I thought it was so important. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with me. And, in the context of our conversation, I couldn’t say with any confidence that it was even any of my business. Fearing I was making an unwelcome intrusion, I stuttered with reluctance.

To Uncertainty.

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. ... No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others” 

Martha Graham