the first solo i performed as an adult

The year was 2010. I had signed up to perform in an uncurated variety show in Brooklyn that gave everyone 5 minutes on stage to do their thing. I was kicking myself for signing up. What was I thinking? I had only just gotten back into lightly dancing, I hadn’t been on stage in YEARS, and wasn’t I busy enough? ...

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poppin in with a poem.

One of the things I believe, deep in my body and soul, is that the process of creating art - whether it be dancing or painting or writing poems or whatever floats your boat - is deeply healing. It gives us a sense of being able to take what we’ve been given in life and make something new out of it. It gives us our power back ...

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can we really "make things happen"?

Here's what I think is a more accurate version of this quote. (although it’s probably too long to fit into an Instagram square). She spent a long time making things happen, to the point of exhaustion until she woke up one day and felt like NOT trying to make it happen, so she didn't, and she realized that it felt uncomfortable at first ...

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does this random performance even matter?

Two years ago I was hired to get random people at the mall to dance with me. It was truly my happy place: me in my DANCE WITH ME shirt with my Madonna-style hands-free mic and a wide open floor before me. I cracked jokes with strangers passing by. I got a group of finance guys to make a dance video with their umbrellas, to “Umbrella” ...

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the mess continues.

I woke up feeling like shit. My period was due any day and the amount of hormones surging through my system could have powered a Hummer limousine. Instead, it felt like the Hummer limousine had run over me. There were all of these things I needed to do. Errands to run. Deadlines to meet. A sick mother to attend to. Bills to sort through ...

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when life feels really hard.

Life has felt really f#*king shitty lately, globally and personally. The truth is, I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. (first world problems, I know.) I haven't danced in a couple of weeks. And it's really hard to jump back in. (You know when you KNOW that something will make you feel better, yet you still don't want to do it? Yeah, that.) ...

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on creating through the mess.

Inspired by the musical, RENT... As a 12-year-old girl I wrote in bubble letters on my bedroom wall: Forget regrets, life is yours to mess. That’s how I interpreted the line in the song “No Day But Today,” much later realizing, it’s actually: Forget regrets -- or life is yours to miss. (Call me Messy Jessie… I’ve always been a bit all over the place.) ...

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on not staying silent.

I wasn't going to write to you this week. I’m at the Jersey Shore on my annual family vacation and thought we could all use a break from Creative Fridays. But then Charlottesville. And then Trump (not speaking up about it and then speaking up and then speaking up again to show his true colors as he basically condones this disgusting, evil hate crime.) ...

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august + your creative soul.

August is here. We’ve hit upon a very significant month for your creative life. It starts with August 1st, in traditional pagan cultures known as Lammas, or the festival of first fruits. It’s when we start to see the hints of the harvest that is to come in the fall. It’s a last chance reminder to check yourself before you wreck yourself ...

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let’s spend more time THERE.

Maybe it’s a good thing... When 10 unread texts accumulate by the end of the night because you hadn’t looked at your phone much. When you forget to take the garbage out because you’re in the flow of writing. Or crying. When poems come through your pen more often than to-do lists. When sitting in an hour of traffic feels worth it ...

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