From Poultry to Pleasure

Exhausted from a full day of work. Stuck on the A train with a sick passenger. Bloated from a lunch of pizza and ice cream. "How the fuck am I going to conjure up the creativity to do this?"

This is the question I asked myself as I made my way uptown to meet my friend Kendra. She is starring in a fabulous play called Next, and there is one scene where she does striptease out of a satin robe. She asked me to help her choreograph it, which I was happy to say yes to in the moment. But in my present state was not certain I had the mojo for the job. I was feeling, in a word, schlubby. That feeling I get every Winter here in NY where all my shoes have a salt crust, it's too cold to wear anything but pants, and my skin starts to resemble the pallor of an uncooked chicken.


When I arrived, half an hour late due to the train debacle, Kendra was waiting in the studio with a cotton robe and a blond wig. What (pleasantly) surprised me, was that as soon as I put the robe on and started moving to the music, my chemistry started to change. I went from feeling like my brain outweighed my body to having all my senses engaged. My mind focused and I felt no worries. All that mattered was the music, the character, and the moment I was in.

As much as try to resist it, I really do think I've found my creative soul mate in Burlesque. Nothing else makes me feel more like who I really am, or requires me to operate on all 4 creative cylinders quite like Burlesque does.


What is your creative soul mate? The one that both takes you out of yourself, and plugs you into yourself at the same time? Share with me, my darling reader.