Dancing in Quarantine

Moving back to Colorado from LA was the last way I expected to end my senior year. Even after I returned home, a sliver of me hoped this would all blow over. Still, one thing after another has been cancelled, from my senior thesis to my summer job at Jacob's Pillow. I wish I could go back to early March, when I was on top of the world and felt like nothing could stop me.

Being an artist has both saved and hindered me during this time. There is so much pressure from the internet world to create something genius while we are isolating. As someone who loves tasks, I saved a bunch of choreography challenges and marked dance classes into my calendar. But I am still finishing school and trying to manage that as well. Some days, I just need to grieve the loss of these precious weeks.

I've finally stopped crying every day (now the tears just come once in a while). I have started checking off my to-do lists again and writing my senior thesis. My love for my work is coming back.

But I'm struggling to feel inspired to create anything. My poetry notebook is empty and my bedroom floor has not seen me do as many improvisations as I'd like. I am trying to be kind to myself, while also gently nudging myself into a bit of a challenge

I watched this video by Nederlands Dans Theater, which features dancers in their home spaces. I have been so worried about clearing out my space to make it look more studio-like, and less like my bedroom, but each dancer in the video utilized their space as is. In fact, the work was more interesting when set against the background of their homes – their plants, bookshelves, kitchen counters, and bedrooms. 

Rather than trying to make my space look like something it is not (a studio), I want to use it to its full potential, which means some experimentation on my part in terms of dancing around and with my furniture. But NDT proved it is both possible and interesting. This might be my favorite video I have watched since going into quarantine; I am so inspired by these dancers and their determination to create despite the small spaces and strange circumstances.

The point of this is not to come out of it with a new work that is worthy of the Kennedy Center, but to learn how to be kind to ourselves and grateful for the way human beings can adapt despite the toughest of circumstances. Growing up, I always held Anne Frank in high regard, and now, I think of her often. She spent over two years hidden with seven other people. I was able to visit the Secret Annex in the summer of 2016, and I was shocked by the tiny size. Now that I am experiencing shelter-in-place myself, I think about how grateful I am for the ability to go for a run, a luxury Anne did not have.

During her time, she didn't write the next greatest novel or create a work of art, but instead, she kept a diary. That diary has shaped millions around the world. Her simple wisdom and expressions of human emotion mean more than any well-crafted masterpiece could.

One of my favorite quotes from her diary says:
"How noble and good everyone could be if, every evening before falling asleep, they were to recall to their minds the events of the whole day and consider exactly what has been good and bad. Then without realizing it, you try to improve yourself at the start of each new day."

Dancing in quarantine does exactly that.