A Journal for a Lifetime

My research at UCSD over the past three years has definitely broken me, stretched me, opened me, and renewed me. I remember all I ever wanted to do was please. Please my teachers, my classmates, my family, and I got a huge reality check with myself. In "Letters From Cuba" by Irene Fornes, I stepped into Fran’s shoes. She moved to New York because of dance but was conflicted about leaving Cuba and her beloved brother, Luis behind. Fran then found her voice by channeling her Yemaya, who is the Orisha Goddess in the Afro-Cuban religion called Yoruba. Dancing in this way helped Fran remember the joys of Cuba and Luis, and often comforted her in new and challenging times. I too missed being home when things were new or challenging, and often thought about what I left and am leaving behind. So I used my point of view through dance to express that. Every kick, every head pop, every spinal undulation, and every time my feet connected with the floor it pushed me to my next place. I cultivated a space for my voice to be loud and to be heard. It was then that I learned not only to put my training of voice and movement in this medium of zoom, but also how to give myself the permission to creatively speak up. I learned how to turn my one bedroom studio into a theater stage in a matter of weeks. And while learning the skill of manually setting my stage, I realized this is what dreams feel like. There have been countless times that I told myself , “don’t take the risk , it’s not big a deal, you can’t do that, follow the rules,” but my God what RULES because I can’t seem to find them?! I want to do everything that it takes to say what I need to say because it holds me accountable to my craft. And if UCSD has taught me anything it’s to continue to make my own of everything. To shout, sing, write, to never stop being curious about the possibilities, to keep dreaming even when it’s heavy, to keep stretching when I feel like I can’t go anymore, to keep believing in me. I stand before you in awe because if you only knew how I hurt and healed, how I pressed under pressure, how I leaned in love even when it didn’t feel good, it’s an experience I will continue to grow and breathe in this beautiful garden of mine called me