Tag Archives: dance

On set for a Divine Brown video shoot ... the first time I was ever paid to dance ;-)

Five-Year Flashback …

… Dancer Chattrisse is still a baby compared to the other Chattrisse listed in this old post, which you should absolutely go back and read so you know what on earth I’m talking about. (That pic represents the first time I was considered a professional [read: paid] dancer … ah, memories.)

That post was the first thing I ever blogged here, and this Wednesday it will be five years old — that’s crazy! Thanks, internet, for hanging in there with me while I learned to blog, and did it regularly, and stopped doing it, and got back on the wagon again.

Huh. Kind of like dance, interestingly … as some of you know, I injured my shoulder in spring 2016 and due to a condition that developed during the healing process, it’s still not back to 100%, and due to this, I’ve been doing significantly less dancing since 2016 than I would like. (One of the many reasons I love this video is that it was filmed mere days before the original shoulder injury; I still don’t have my full range of motion back, but at least I can admire what I looked like when I’d never considered losing it!)

So I’m taking a moment to look back and congratulate myself. For being transparent and for finding a new way of sharing my thoughts five years ago, for learning to be patient with my body during the last two years, and for how much better I will be two and five years from now.

Just for fun, what were you doing five years ago? And how does it relate to what you’re doing today?

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Introducing . . . Isla Caine (Chattrisse does burlesque!)

Last fall, I saw a dear friend of mine (Cassidy) perform in a fabulous burlesque show created by another friend of mine (Knox). Many people think of burlesque as just a bunch of hot women taking their clothes off in front of a sleazy crowd and not much else, right? Not on Knox’s watch — this was a full-scale production with a plot, period costumes and props, music, interesting characters, incredible dancing and choreography and singing, and both women and men of diverse appearances — including body types — performing burlesque for a warm and responsive audience. I stood around afterward, talking to one or two dancers who’d performed for Knox before, and said that I was going to try out for one of her shows in 2018.

Necessary background info:

(1) I am a lifelong singer; I’ve been singing at home since forever and in public since I was six years old, although

(2) I still battle with shyness, and feel that none of my public performances have ever been as good as what I manage to pull off vocally when I’m alone at home

(3) For almost as long as I’ve been singing in public, I’ve been very self-conscious about my body, and this has been exacerbated by the fact that

(4) For nearly two full years, I’ve been recovering from a shoulder injury (really, two of them) and this has led to a deepening of my disappointment in, and disdain toward, my own body

(5) In addition to a slump in my dancing, it’s been quite awhile since I was onstage singing. Except for a guest spot in a Chris Birkett show last October, it honestly may be over a year now — I literally don’t remember.

And finally, (6) I am a born-again Christian who still many questions about reconciling God’s love, my gratitude for innumerable miracles including our own bodies, and the shame that many Western people, particularly women, are programmed to experience when we discuss or display our sexuality.

Where am I going with all this? Well, even though I had plenty of reasons to simply disregard my stated goal of auditioning for a burlesque show, I decided that they all boiled down to one: fear. I pulled that fear out of my head and held it in my hand, where I could get a good look at it and remind myself how much bigger than it I am and always will be. I weighed all six of the points listed above, and decided to go through with the audition. With Knox’s help, I created a new act starring a new character: Isla Caine.

“Isla” can be either “EESS-lah” (Spanish pronunciation) or “EYE-lah” (English pronunciation), depending on where she is and who she’s talking to . . . because if you know me personally, you know that my most-used skills throughout life have probably been reading, writing, speaking, and code-switching. “Caine” is mostly a nod to sugar cane, since I’m Caribbean and I can be very sweet. Isla Caine emphasizes some of the realest parts of Chattrisse. She has a soothing voice. You see her commanding personality when it comes to getting things done. She’s willing to appreciate her curves even if they aren’t all in the places where she’d like them to be yet. And in terms of fashion, the vibe she gives you is made up of Miranda Priestley (Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada), Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal ensemble, and a deep appreciation for jewel tones.

So I did it! On April 12th, I took the stage at Revival in a white suit over a black blouse, with smouldering eye makeup and a bright red lip. My hair was coiled into a bun and I wore my real-life oversized glasses. Before an audience of friends and cousins (but mostly strangers), I sang Diana Krall’s version of “Peel Me a Grape” while removing my blazer, blouse, pants, and elbow gloves. By the time I sashayed off the stage in my stilettos with my hair swinging back and forth across my shoulder blades, I was wearing only my matching aubergine bra and panties. And for once, no doubt because I was singing into a beautifully restored antique microphone, my voice sounded far better floating through the venue than it did it any of my at-home rehearsals.

Even before I was hugged by my people in the audience, or checked my phone to see a congratulatory message from a friend in Vancouver which contained a video clip of me onstage mere minutes earlier, or saw any of the pics or footage, I felt so good. I was so proud of myself for facing off against my nerves and fear and insecurities, and the feeling kept growing as I proudly watched Gin Kelly, another first-timer who I know from the world of acting, wow the crowd. Cassidy, who’s a pro at this, absolutely killed her set too. From what I was able to see, every woman and man who took the stage did themselves proud, and it felt incredible to be in the ring with them instead of watching from the sidelines.

On a very real level, if you aren’t learning you aren’t growing. One of my guiding principles (especially for this transition period I seem to still be in) is to keep learning, no matter what; otherwise I’ll have gone through an entire new season and have no growth to show for it. Creating and debuting Isla Caine has certainly taught and tested me, and while I haven’t decided yet how soon (or whether) I’ll bring her back out again, I’m truly glad to meet her and get to know myself a little better at the same time.

Thanks to Knox, Cassidy and all of the other Viva Italia performers, my family and friends who came, the sound guy whose name I forget right now but he’s super-cool, and to Hollywood Jade whose years of Urbanesque dance classes have helped me more than he knows.

Thanks also to photographer Ruth Gillson for the wonderful images! Speakeasy at Revival is a monthly event at 783 College St here in Toronto and if you’re looking for a fear to conquer, you may want to get in touch and ask to audition. Either way, check out one of their shows; I think you’ll be glad you did!

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xo

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What’s this season called?

I’m in a transition phase in my life … which is starting to sound kind of funny to me since I’ve been saying that for more than six months now. First it was time to leave my full-time day job, then I switched into a part-time evening one, then I had an audition drought (which was pretty annoying, since the job change had been prompted in part by my desire to have my daytimes free for auditions), then I used those daytime hours to write my first feature-length screenplay and apply for funding to help get it made, then I reinvigorated my training as an actor and got new headshots, then I had a few auditions followed by two more audition-barren weeks, and now I’m in training at a new new day/evening job and the auditions have started to pick up again.

In the meantime, I’ve taken a vacation (a concept which is nearly as foreign to me as the idea of celebrating a romantic anniversary, which I’ve also recently done), said goodbye to my cat (a beloved faithful companion of 14 years), dealt with a health issue or two (nothing awful, don’t worry), and had numerous extended family members pass away. So in many ways it feels like a turbulent time in my life.

When I expressed this recently to a friend, she said “Try and have patience. You’re likely coming through the other end now,” and “Longer transitions mean a greater impact when you land … I’d like to think.”

So would I.

I received another helpful insight from a social worker, who has suggested that I try being more compassionate with myself. I live my life by a set of unwavering standards, and I’ve always been able to fall back on my adherence to them even when those around me fall short. This has mostly served me well – except that I’m starting to wonder whether one of the lessons I’m meant to learn now is to let up on myself every now and then. To have a non-productive day without feeling bad about it. To treat myself with gifts once in awhile, the way I love to treat others. To congratulate myself for tries as well as actual wins. Because when I stop and think of all the reasons (excuses) I could’ve come up with to not write, not seek medical advice, not pay for classes and new headshots, not travel, and not go back into the Job Hunt Vortex … twice … all of those tries begin to look more and more like wins to me.

This is where I’m supposed to deliver an elegant finish; I don’t really have one. I guess I’ll just thank you for reading, and for sharing any of your own recent tries and wins that you’d like to let the world know about; and give thanks, of course, to my friends and fam who love me undoubtedly.

And thank you, Self. I’m proud of you.

xo

 

 

PS: For real, what are you reaching for right now? I’d love to know!

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29 THINGS TO TELL MY 10-YEARS-AGO SELF

I’m in the last year of my twenties, which means I think I’m a lot wiser than I really am. Recently … thanks mostly to Throwback Thursdays, the Crash Course educational series on YouTube, and the work of playwright Jose Rivera … I started wondering what my current, past and future selves might say to one another if they all met somehow, and I compiled this list of things I would love to go back in time and say to myself at the end of my teens. I wouldn’t answer any of her obvious questions (No, you really shouldn’t get back together with him; Yes, you’ll be able to pay your way through school, so relax) because, hey, there are some lessons she needs to learn the hard way. Also, to keep things interesting, I would purposely not divulge which parent will move overseas, when and where and why I get tattooed, or how much (or is it how little?) I weigh in spring 2015.

Here are 29 pieces of advice for the 2005 edition of myself, delivered with lots of love and a steupse or two.

 

1. Look for “flaws” in your character, not your appearance.

2. What you do when no one is watching matters even more than you already know.

3. The sooner you acknowledge the power of your words, the better things will be.

4. It is possible to create great art from a happy place.

5. You have the best dad ever too.

6. Practice being quicker to get over disappointments and slower to roll your eyes.

7. I love that you take so many pictures, but you don’t need to have double copies of all of them. (Also, since we’re on the subject: in one of the pictures up top, if not both, you are actually 18. You took so many that year there weren’t many to pick from the year after. But it’s all good, because your looks haven’t changed much since you were 2.)

8. Figure out how to control your emotions, and your imagination, or else they will control you.

9. When it comes to money, pay more attention to the direction than the amount.

10. Also, go out of your way to learn more about finances than what you’re being told.

11. Asking for help does get easier.

12. Saying goodbye gets easier too.

13. Letting go after saying goodbye will probably get easier. One day. I hope.

14. Soon you’ll come across this thing called Facebook, and I applaud your decision to hold out for awhile. But get on the Instagram bandwagon quickly.

15. Never stop dancing.

16. Singing will take you further than you think. Feel free to interpret that literally.

17. Don’t worry that you’re too old to get back into acting.

18. Don’t worry that you’re too old for anything.

19. Don’t worry. At all.

20. Take your own eighth-grade advice: Travel, travel, travel! (You remember why you said that, right? Good.)

21. Being single can be sexy. And “sexy” has a greater and better meaning than you realize right now.

22. Go clubbing a lot over the next little while; you’ll get tired of it pretty soon.

23. Experiences > possessions.

24. Classics > hits.

25. American men will always be a thing.

26. Take your time figuring out where you stand on religion and spirituality.It is nobody’s business but your own.

27. The only difference between a valley and a hill is your perspective.

28. I am extremely proud of you.

29. You are going to love what comes next.

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10 MARKERS OF A REALLY GOOD PARTY … OR A REALLY BAD ONE

 

Caribana weekend has come and gone and I refuse to dedicate this month’s Top Ten Tuesday to the mess that was the Grand Parade . . . partially because everyone else is blogging about it right now . . . and partially because I’d rather focus on positives than negatives.

However, various events from this weekend have led me to spend some time thinking about the best and worst parties I’ve attended, many of them occurring on a jump-up weekend in the past, and what sets apart the great from the good, and the bad from the truly terrible. See if you agree with any/all of these.

 

1. WHO YOU’RE WITH

I mean really. You can have an amazing time in a condemned haunted house if the company you’re keeping is cool; yet if you’re invited as a VIP guest to some awesome soirée but you don’t like the crowd, you’ll probably be wishing you were somewhere else.

Party people!

Party people!

Everybody’s got those friends who they would go anywhere with. Keep them at the top of your invite list.

 

2. WHERE YOU ARE

Even with the important “who” detail out of the way, the “where” is still important. Some people love clubs, while some of us are getting really tired of them. Some people love pool parties, while some people don’t want to spend an entire afternoon being afraid of getting wet.

Good peoples, plus a party on a boat?  #yup!

Good peoples, plus a party on a boat? #yup!

Know your preference.

 

3. YOUR PURPOSE

You left your place and got dressed up (maybe; see #5) for a reason; that reason has to be in line with the party you’re going to! Example: I’ll get excited to go to a fête, but not to a bar. I don’t particularly like drinking, but I love soca, so that choice is obvious for me.

Our purpose was CRYSTAL CLEAR!

Our purpose was CRYSTAL CLEAR!

One of the best parties I can remember being at was a 90s jam at the Ram in the Rye, back when I was a student at Ryerson. DJ Starting from Scratch cemented his status as my favourite DJ (and reaffirmed it in #7) by playing nothing but 90s music. If I’d gone out hoping to do anything BUT dance to all those old-school jams, I would’ve been in the corner with a sour face.

 

4. YOUR TRIP THERE AND BACK

Ever get to a party exhausted because it was such a struggle to find parking, or you got lost, or something like that? Instant loss of fun points. This is why I stick to downtown events where, worst comes to worst, I can probably take a taxi or a streetcar there and back again. If you do like drinking, you’ll probably prefer partying where you aren’t the DD.

Don't let it take too long to reach the party ...

Don’t let it take too long to reach the party …

For me personally, one of my favourite things about living near Bathurst and Lake Shore Blvd is that I’m walking distance from the Caribana parade. No waiting for anybody; when I’m ready to leave, bye!!!

 

5. YOUR CLOTHING

How are you gonna have fun if you’re constantly sucking in your stomach or snagging your shirt or sweating too much? Personally I like parties which don’t require much clothing at all (lol), because this minimizes the amount of time I have to spend considering all these variables.

 

Couldn't even count the amount of times I wore this top ... super-comfortable and it always looked great.

Couldn’t even count the amount of times I wore this top … super-comfortable and it always looked great.

Which brings us to . . .

 

6. YOUR ACCESSORIES

Every female reading this has, at some point, suffered due to an unfortunate choice of footwear at a party. Shoe manufacturers seem to have discovered a way to make certain pumps feel deceptively comfortable in the store and around the house and for maybe the first 90 minutes when you finally debut them, and then suddenly your feet are burning like hell fire. Every male reading this has, at some point, shaken his head and wondered (silently, if he’s smart) why a female would do that to herself. I have been literally carried back to the car (thanks Kerron!). I have spent most of the night dancing from the waist up only, because my friend and I knew full well that if we left our seats, the other footsore females who were circling would make sure we never got to sit down again (shoutouts to Dawn Dai!). And on numerous occasions I have brought a pair of flat shoes in my purse in case the pain from the heels got too intense.

Yes, we got a cute pic out of it. But we were legit concerned that I might cripple myself walking back across the gravel parking lot, so he really did carry me. #clearlyakeeper

Yes, we got a cute pic out of it. But we were legit concerned that I might cripple myself walking back across the gravel parking lot, so he really did carry me. #clearlyakeeper

Shoes are a biggie, but there are other accessories that can seriously kill your vibe too. Like earrings that are too heavy to let you really dance. And hairpieces that threaten to separate from your head if you dance too hard. So choose your ENTIRE wardrobe carefully.

 

7. THE DJ

If there is a DJ. Because sometimes you want to go to a party where you can have an actual conversation; and sometimes you’re okay just hearing your friend’s iTunes playlist in the background. But when the DJ is legit, he or she has tremendous influence on whether you’re smiling or screwfacing.

summerbreezeI attended “Summer Breeze” this Caribana Sunday, which was a daytime rooftop party, and the DJs (the main ones were Toronto’s own DJ Starting from Scratch and DJ Dany Neville from Dubai) were so proper. Great mixing, good pacing, a wicked soca set in the middle of the event, and — praise Jesus — there was zero talking over the music. If you are a DJ who thinks I came out to hear you talk, you are sadly mistaken. And I know plenty of girls who get irritated by repeated exhortations to walk roun if yuh pussy tun up, for example. Even dudes get salty if you interrupt the music one too many times — why should their bubble get cut short because you like the sound of your own voice so much? It’s like someone with a megaphone walking in on a couple in a baby-making zone. Stop it.

 

8. THE PRICE POINT

This is a dealbreaker for a lot of folks; hey, it’s a tough economy. And yes, I do realize that charging admission helps to keep out some of the riffraff, usually. But I am so much more likely to buy an early-bird ticket for an event, or choose just one expensive party every few months and stay on the cheaper side for the rest, because let’s face it: some of the best parties I’ve ever gone to (like the 90s jam in #3, and a few wedding receptions, and even some high school dances back in the day) didn’t cost me a thing to get inside.

Nish, Dija and me!

Nish, Dija and me!

With that in mind, when someone is sweet enough to cover your cover for you, you’re automatically more likely to have fun; like when my homegirl Nish bought me a ticket to the 2014 Camo boat ride to welcome me home to Toronto. Love you girl!!!

 

9. THOSE PEOPLE (NOT YOUR PEOPLE, THE OTHER ONES)

If your crowd is all fun and friendly and everyone else in the venue is stush, sure, you can just ignore everyone else in the venue. But it really is more fun when a whole bunch of like-minded people get together, and by the time you leave, some have gone from strangers to friends.

New friend Doru, who I met in Dubai? Will we ever meet again? Who knows. The point is we had fun at the Cavalli Club =)

New friend Doru, who I met in Dubai! Will we ever meet again? Who knows. The point is we had fun at the Cavalli Club =)

Yes, I obviously like meeting new guys when I go out; my roster can usually use new names and faces! ;-)  But I’ve even made great new girlfriends out at events, or reconnected with old ones. It really is about people getting together and having a good time.

 

10. YOU

Strangely enough, even though I’ve just spent all this time listing external factors, it comes down to you and your mindset. When I decide to let go of my insecurities, I have a great time. When I decide to live in the moment like I might never get to go to a party ever again, I have a great time. When I remember to laugh about (or at) painful shoes, unfriendly people, annoying DJs, inflated prices, my bestie who’s not there, or how long the lineup was, I have a great time.

Once me, myself and I have decided to have fun, it's a wrap!

Once me, myself and I have decided to have fun, it’s a wrap!

After all, it isn’t my job to control everything; and if it were, I’d never be able to have fun. Here’s hoping I can remember that more often. And here’s hoping I see you at another fête, day party, or house jam sometime soon! ;-)

 

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MY DUBAI DESERT SAFARI

Some of you remember my Top Ten Tuesday blog featuring ten things I wanted to get done during the last couple months of my stay here in Dubai. Many of those things will remain unchecked on my list, but one of them that I made sure to get done was the desert safari experience.

Full disclosure: several of the activities presented as part of the safari package are things I had already done, so for that and other reasons (keep reading) it wasn’t the most thrilling few hours of my life. But I got a great deal on it, and some really nice pics, and all in all it was worth it …

So here is Chattrisse’s Guide to a Dubai Desert Safari!

First things first: book carefully. Booking a desert safari here is like trying to find a hot dog vendor in downtown Toronto: lots of options for the same stuff. If you’re a tourist, your hotel probably has a link, but it’s worth looking elsewhere as hotel prices are usually not bargains. Check Groupon, or Kobonaty, or just use the internet from within the UAE and wait for the ads along the side of your screen to start showing white Land Rovers on red sand dunes. I promise it’ll happen soon enough.

IMG_0517Also before you go, know what you want to do the most. I don’t imagine anyone could get through all of the activities on offer in a single shot. I recommend bringing a buddy so you both have lots of pictures of the day without wasting time canvassing strangers to take them.

The company I went with offers door-to-door pickup and dropoff, which was a huge bonus for me. Unfortunately I got picked up more than an hour late (I was told this was because other guests were late, but those guests said they’d been told the same thing after we finally picked them up) and it would have been nice to have that extra hour or so to get more things done.

In any case, once your driver gets you out of the city your first safari activity is dune bashing. He’ll let the air out of the tires and go careening up and down the sand dunes. This was fun, even though I was in the back seat and my knees got a bit beat up; it wasn’t my first time dune bashing, and apparently it takes more than two tries to really get the hang of capturing good video footage. I’ve got a pretty strong stomach in most cases, but the heat (close to 40 degrees a few hours before the trip) combined with all that motion and the confined space did make me a bit queasy.

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It was a relief to get out and breathe some fresh air, and the driver chose a nice deserted-looking area (no other vehicles or people anywhere in sight) to let everyone take some pictures. Part of the reason I’m blogging about this almost a month after the fact is that I was hoping a nice woman in my group would send me the nice pics of me she took with her nice camera. C’est la vie.

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Next, the driver takes you to the main area, parks and gives you a super-quick tour of where everything is. Because of our late start, we were informed that we had about an hour before it would be time to go. So I made the most of it, and if you were with me here are some of the things we could have done:

Shisha smoking – this is included in the ticket price, but I’ve heard and read too much about how shisha isn’t any better for your voice than cigarettes, so I passed. I get plenty of it secondhand when we perform on the beach, lol!

Falcon flirting – okay, I’d already taken pictures with Maktoum the falcon back at the resort, but this was a different one! =) And she did tricks; Maktoum doesn’t. This did cost a small fee of 10 dirhams, but I enjoyed it.

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ATV riding – I would have liked to get this done. Too many people and too little time.

Sand boarding – this was on the top of my list! Picture snowboarding, except on sandy dunes instead of snowy hills. But there didn’t seem to be anyone around offering instruction; I was handed the board by another tourist, so I dragged it up to the top of a dune, looked down at my sandals and shrugged. I ended up taking some more pictures instead.

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Camel riding – thank goodness this wasn’t on my list (again, I had done it at the resort), because there were hordes of people waiting to ride the camel.

Authentic dress – another area where it would have been nice to see staff of some sort. Putting on the abaya is a no-brainer, but wrapping the sheila definitely takes practice and/or help! I met a nice woman from Cambodia who was in the same boat, so we did the best we could, but if the organizers had asked for my feedback … um, why didn’t they? … I for sure would have asked about this.

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Tanoura dancer – once the sun goes down, the scheduled entertainment starts. I found the male dancer kind of boring but I’m sure I’d have been more interested if I knew more of the history behind Tanoura, an Egyptian folk dance where the performer’s costume lights up.

Henna – yeah! I haven’t had henna done since the turn of the century, so I was excited for this. It was included in the ticket price too, but I chose to tip the Indian woman who applied it. I left mine on for a little over two hours because I wanted it to get as dark as possible. Shoutouts to the guys from the States who were in line in front of me getting scorpions and other designs: “real men get henna tattoos!”

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Dinner – the words “international buffet” sound more glamourous than what you get; luckily I was warned about this ahead of time. If you don’t expect much, you’ll be fine – salad, meat, rice, and a few other items, plus water and pop (and I think tea and coffee) are all included in your ticket price, and you line up to get it cafeteria/all-you-can-eat-buffet-style before chowing down at the table reserved for your group. The tables are low to the ground, decorated in keeping with the Bedouin theme, and you sit on low benches surrounding the stage so everyone has a good view of the entertainment.

Belly dancer – I was excited for this as well. She danced to a handful of songs with different props, including canes and a silver cape and of course the jingling hipscarf. During her last number she got a few of the audience members up and dancing with her; some of the men could really shake it!

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Bathroom – don’t expect to make it through the whole safari without needing to relieve yourself, especially if it’s hot out because you will be drinking. And don’t expect much from the bathrooms either. Although there were separate toilet areas for men and women, a guy didn’t see the sign so a few of us ladies ended up having to wait (lol) to use the rather shabby facilities.  (You’ll notice if you scroll back up that I packed hand sanitizer … yeah. That’s all.)

I skipped the souvenir shopping, and we all piled back into the car to get driven through the dark desert, then the brightly lit city, and back home.

My ticket (thanks to Groupon and Cooper Tourism) cost me 109 dirhams, or $33.59 Canadian; plus I gave the falcon’s handler and the henna artist 10 dirhams each, which is roughly another $6 Canadian. Under 40 bucks = totally worth it. And I would be really annoyed with myself if I’d somehow made it through six months here without doing the desert safari, so voila!

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Til next time …

 

On set for a Divine Brown video shoot ... the first time I was ever paid to dance ;-)

Singer who Moves Well

Those of you in the world of musical theatre, or anywhere else where triple threats can be found, can probably guess what this post is about.

I love to dance; I have as long as I can remember; I’ve spent lots of money and lots of time taking dance classes and workshops, I’ve choreographed and taught others, and I even convinced my father that one night a week we should watch So You Think You Can Dance Canada instead of whatever sports channel he normally lives on.  (In fact, as I post this, I’m packing up my heels for a dance class later tonight – if the video footage I get is any good, I’ll share it later!)

But when people ask me what I do, I usually say “I’m a performer” or “I write and sing” or “I’m a singer and actor” … or, if I’m in a chatty mood, “I write and sing and act and dance.” I never just say “I’m a dancer.” I would kind of feel like a fraud if I did.

For one thing, Dancer Chattrisse is a baby compared to Singer Chattrisse (started singing in public around age 6) and Actor Chattrisse (first took classes at age 8) and Writer Chattrisse (who was born at age 10, an outgrowth of Poet Chattrisse who came on the scene around the same time as Actor Chattrisse but faded into obscurity much sooner). I never took a dance class in my life until I was the ripe old age of 12, and I doubt I will ever be able to do the splits; kicks and pretty turns are still challenges for me, and it was an absolute shock to discover in 2009 that my male dance partners could lift me into the air. So dance is still the area on my resume in which I have the least experience, and therefore the least confidence.

Besides that, many of my dancer friends have been dancing since they were toddlers. Baby ballerinas are not only adorable; by the time they’re in their teens and twenties, people who have been dancing for that long (with adequate passion and proper instruction) are not to be messed with! So I have this tendency to shrink away from calling myself a dancer because to me, they are dancers.

The labels “singer who moves well” and “ strong mover” are more appropriate, as dorky as they look and sound. And I’m not saying I’ll never consider myself to be a dancer dancer, because since 2010 dance has been creeping back up my list of priorities and presenting itself as an activity that really does keep me sane. It also makes me feel liberated and sexy in a way that singing and acting don’t always do … though that may be because the styles I’ve been learning and teaching lately are almost exclusively burlesque-tinged or Caribbean. Many of my professional friends and acquaintances have been nice enough to show that they really appreciate my talent as a dancer, and if the dancer dancers are calling me a dancer, hey, I must be getting closer to the point where I am one.

For now, though, let’s not ask me to do any triple pirouettes; let’s hold off on even the double turns. Isn’t that what body doubles are for??