Remember that unnamed dance show? Yeah, it has a name now.

Interfusion: the Elements of Creativity

This evening will be the second night of the University Dance Society’s 42nd Season of Dance. I hope I got that number right. You know how sensitive we women are about our ages.

From the inside, it’s a fantastic show. I look around at all the dancers and choreographers I am privileged to work with, say hello to, be in the same room as (that’s you, Dr. Stines. And I can’t forget KYISHA PATTERSON. Have to big her up because that’s how we roll. Yo.) and it just takes my breath away. I know that when I was back in Montego Bay, all I talked about was joining UDS as soon as I arrived in Mona, but actually being here is so much better than the hype I was building up in my head.

Of course, a lot of it is the rush of just being on the stage again. The last time I performed (like really performed) was the time I sprained my ankle. That was more than a year ago. I didn’t even realize it had been so long. And my body is itching to get back out there and dance.  I love that UDS is affording me the opportunity to do that with this bunch of super talented people.

Anyway, enough about my mushy feelings.

I’m encouraging anyone who’s in the Kingston and St. Andrew area this weekend to come out and watch (me, haha). I expect that by now most of the tickets will have been sold out, but you never know. It promises to be an amazing show: we’ve got creative choreographers and really enthusiastic dancers and it’s definitely worth your time (and money).


  • Friday at 7PM
  • Saturday at 7PM
  • Sunday at I’m not sure what time, but I’ll get back to you.

Tickets are $1000JMD presold and $1200 at the gate, and it’s at the Philip Sherlock Centre for the Creative Arts on the University of the West Indies, Mona campus.

Just in case you’re interested ;)

What rhymes with passion?

Book stores are wonderful, inspiring places. And theatres. Dark theatres filled with audiences and the promise of a good show.

Idk, I got it from Google

Book stores filled with undiscovered worlds, rows and rows of them, just waiting to be opened. There is beauty there, in the shadows and the alcoves and the corners.

Clothing stores are disheartening, a balloon that floats away. Soggy cereal. Lukewarm tea. The beauty is skin deep, tied up in cotton blends and washable colours. Beauty that bleeds and runs. Beauty that bleaches if you leave it in the sun too long.

A book left in the sun too long will spark. The words will catch fire, sear your soul.

Idk, I got it from Google

But don’t be silly. A theatre will never be left in the sun too long.


{21} Doctors sing and dance, too.

The medical class at the University of the West Indies puts on an annual fundraisng theatrical production called Smoker. I’ve never been to one, but from what I hear the response is par for the course with theatre: kind of a big deal for some, negligible for others. As for me, it’s theatre: there’s no way this production could pass me by.

Of course, that’s not so easy with me stuck all the way on the second campus while all of the action is going on on the main. Despite the distance, I managed to get elected on the Smoker Committee – as Script Editorial Chair! Communicating/coordinating with the main campus is a pain at best, but now that they’ve gone and split my post between myself and the runner up, I’m given to wonder if they won’t start to bypass my input altogether. Which would suck. A lot. Especially as I’m determined to contribute in some (major) way to this thing.

So for the time being I’m just waiting. Our production won’t happen for another year or so, since the class ahead of us has just had their weekend. I’m all geared up for it, and so impatient to start planning, but everyone around me is kind of lukewarm about the whole thing. I’m being generous. The atmosphere is more like that chilly feeling you get when you dip your toe into an unheated pool. My campus has been really supportive of me, so I won’t complain. And I’m not sure the main campus is any more. . . enthused than we are. I guess it’s up to the committee to inspire the fervour. I just hope they don’t look at me; I’ve got about as much fervour as one of the cadavers downstairs. And about as much chance of sharing it.

I’ll just sit tight with my red pen and wait to do what I do best. Hopefully the ink won’t dry out before I’m called to duty.


{13} dans la danse: learning from a master

Recently I was given the opportunity to be part of an Independence Day production at a hotel in Montego Bay that would give me the chance to be choreographed by L’Antoinette Stines of L’Acadco acclaim. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve seen a L’Acadco show. To say I was over the moon would have been an understatement. I was flipping ecstatic. It’s a golden opportunity, and frankly a one-in-a-thousand chance, especially since I live in Montego Bay where technically trained dance teachers are few and far between and Kingston dance classes are unbelievably expensive. I’m currently rehearsing two dances, a Kumina piece choreographed by Dr. Stines and an African piece by a dancer/drummer whose last name I don’t know but whom everyone simply calls Aaron. They are both fantastic, so experienced and willing to help and teach that so far, after only three days, I can’t imagine dancing anywhere else.

I’m being pushed to my limit, even though somehow I manage to avoid the cussing out that everyone gets regularly (I was absent from one or two rehearsals), and even though I’m not a natural at folk dance with live drumming I’m learning. And I feel like I’m being trained, which is something I’ve hankered after for years now.

Dr. Stines’ teaching style is somewhat unorthodox, but I consider it completely natural for a dance teacher. There is a lot of yelling and cussing and fits of temper when things aren’t being done right, which is understandable because it’s her choreography; we can’t go on stage and do utter foolishness and say she that’s what she taught us. She wants everyone to be dancing at the same level, because the weakest dancer is always the one who has all the attention. Sometimes I feel like that might be me, because I don’t have a natural rhythm for Jamaican folk dance (which is absolutely beautiful and I recommend you Youtube some Kumina pieces by Rex Nettleford/NDTC) but at the same time, she’s not yelling at me to get off her stage, so I figure I must be doing something right.

It’s hard to believe it’s only been three days when I’ve gone through so much emotional and physical overhaul. In the first two days, I couldn’t catch anything and the hotel’s entertainment staff had already learnt the choreography (my cousin and I got there about two days after they’d started), so I was way behind. And then when my cousin (who has quite a bit of technical training) started getting lead roles I started to feel like maybe I didn’t belong there; after all, I was only there because someone called in a favour.

But I don’t think like that for very long, thank God. Part of being a dancer is finding your own well of self-confidence that doesn’t depend on an external locus, because you’re not always going to get fame or recognition even if you’re the hottest thing out there. So I bucked up, remembered my strengths (memory, if not execution) and decided that until Dr. Stines herself told me to GTFO her stage I was going to dance my pretty little feet off and learn as much as I possibly could in the process.

So far it seems to be working. I do what I’m told as best as I can and if I do get kicked out then I’ll be content with the fact that I did my best.