hey, bay beh

Dance parctice 

Day 1 & 2
I have a relatively fat ass but it’s on a small frame. I had a moment the other day where I thought about my ass and thighs. As I squeezed and jiggled my hams and wondered what percentage of my body was, my legs. I wondered how many more years I could wear shorts before the cellulite takes over. My future had been genetically decided.

Today is the day that I chose to start collecting materials to make my tutu out of. One of the places I visited was American Apparel because I knew I’d find a leotard there. (The leotard is the base of the costume.)


I picked out a white body suit in XS, S and M. The XS was very small and it split my butt checks into two so I had my butt and a mini but below it. Surely this didn’t work. The S had the same issue but it wasn’t very noticeable. This part of the costume would be draped in tulle anyway. The material was very sheer and my belly button and nipples were very obvious. I tried on some other sale items but mostly felt like a slutty sausage.  

When I walked out of the dressing room, the attendant asked me how everything worked out. “Not so good.” The attendant said nothing. Maybe he was rude to me because of my disheveled appearance.  

 (This is me in the fitting room.)

I had acne scarring with no makeup, a ridiculous striped tank top stained with red stuff (gochujang – Korean life blood) that shifted without warning exposing varying levels of “side boob” and ill fitting short shorts with my unflattering “period underwear” peeking out of the top. My hair was unwashed and pulled up into a sloppy, high pony tail that was giving me a headache. Electively unthreaded brows.  (My nails looked great tho.)

 I also had an overstuffed black backpack that was setting off the theft detector in the front of every store I went into that day. I got questioned at forever 21, the craft store and Kmart. The security guards swung was bags through the detectors and let me go. What was that supposed to prove? My backpack could have been filled to the brim with stolen goods. But I’ve learned my lesson after being banned from Duane read for the next 7 years or so. I felt like I was being discriminated against because I looked so unkempt. Just because I looked shitty didn’t mean I was a thief. Everyone is entitled to look like dog shit once and awhile.

I decided the $25 price tag was much more than I was willing to spend. Odds are it will get ruined and even if I didn’t it wasn’t a particularly wearable article of clothing. (I never wear white anyway). I figure I’ll be successful sewing together a pair of high waisted bloomers and a tank top. A two piece suit lends itself to some interesting choreography. The tank top was $1.90.

Since I plan to add to this project up until the show (October 9 or 10) perhaps I need to start a designated place to post this sort of thing…  

Proposal (accepted!)

AGENDA: To push my own abilities

When I was growing up, I took ballet classes. The last time I visited my parents, I found a recording of one of my dance recitals from 1993. I was 6 years old.

I wasn’t a good dancer (even though I may have looked cute in the outfits). I had no sense of timing, balance or grace. Eventually, I lost interest in dance classes and became a tom boy who wouldn’t be caught dead in a frilly tutu.

For this piece, I will reenact the contents of the 1993 VHS tape. My goal is to recreate the costume and choreography but put a dark twist on it. I will take the childlike, carefree nature of the routine and corrupt it with the cynical mindset of an adult. The delicate movements of a dancer will be made violent and ugly in this endurance piece. I will push myself to my physical limit with something that is supposed to be feminine and beautiful.

This will be a multimedia piece utilizing projections, music, dance, photography and costumes. The preparations will include analysis, crafting, and rehearsal to ready myself for the recital.


(This photo is from 1993 and includes the costume I will be crafting.)



(Notice that I am completely off at this moment. I’m also not sure why there is one girl who isn’t in costume.)


My current mood

the platters – greatest hits 

this was uploaded to youtube slowed down for copywrite reasons.  The instructions outlined a way to play the album at regular speed.  It’s much better this way…

So after my mom wrapped her van around a tree, I dreamt this:

Afterward: Suddenly I’m on the street holding a distressed zip lock bag.  I notice him out of the corner of my eye.  

He is wearing a red windbreaker and matching basketball shoes and looks slick like a race car driver.  I don’t approach him.  

I look through my bag. It’s full of jewels, $100 bills, a 1/4 deck of uno cards and some buttons.  

Now he’s sitting right next to me and I ask, “Hey… Do you have a bag?” (I needed another bag to put mine into).

He doesn’t, but he does have a reel of all the tv shows he’s recently acted in.  I didn’t even know he was an actor.


It is night time and I’m at my parent’s house.
I ask my mom to take me to get pizza.
We get into our white van and she gets behind the wheel.
I notice that she is driving erratically.
She is driving on the sidewalk and over people’s lawns.
Small children are illuminated by her headlights.
They are frozen with terror as my mother speeds straights towards them.
They are able to get out of the way moments before they are plowed down.
After nearly hitting her 5th pedestrian, I tell me mom to stop the car so I can drive.
“Your driving terrible! What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, I’ve been drinking…”
She says this in a matter of a fact sort of way.
She looks like a non-anorexic Karen Carpenter.
She has an unmistakable 80’s glow and luscious, dark hair.
“You can’t be driving drunk!  Stop the car! Let me drive!”
She finally stops the car and I get out.
I run behind the van over to the driver’s side door as she speeds away.
The tires screech and the door is hanging open.
I run as fast as I can after the van but I can’t keep up.
Eventually the van crashes into a tree.
Suddenly, I’m back to my parents house.
The whole family is that the dinner table surrounding a meager domino’s pizza.
My mom is also there which confuses me.
I saw the car smash into the tree so it couldn’t be possible.
I try to enjoy the quality family time, but I can’t because I know this dinner isn’t real.
I quietly sob while everyone is passing around the pizza and enjoying dinner.

Email is a game that sad adults play

Steak Face Incident (rant)

NOTE: I am over this.  I’ve learned from it and am looking on the positive side of things. I have renewed inspiration to make new/more performances :)  steak face revival. 

When I first meet people in my community, sometimes I am asked, “Are you the one that puts meat on your face?”
I blush because that is me.  The first iteration of Steak Face was performed on February 2, 2014 at Panoply Performance Lab in Brooklyn (pictured).  I began this series after taking a break from performing after a performance related accident back in mid 2013.

I used the steak mask to empower myself and to express things that I could not as myself.   There were at least 7 parts to the Steak Face series (with potential to add more pieces in the future).  With the mask, I could sing, scream, and dance.

I really learned a lot about myself during this time and it forever changed my way of performing.  Even though I haven’t worn a steak mask in a few months, it has become my trademark.

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(Steak Face I – The Poet – Panoply Performance Lab February 2, 2014)
(Why Won’t Anyone Dance with Me? – Bushwick Bizzare – March 19, 2014)

This morning, I received a Facebook message from a colleague with the following screen capture.  This is peruvian performance artist whom I knew personally when she was living in New York.  The performance in the picture took place at Encuentro: Espacio abierto a libre performance Encuentro “Desde Quebec a Lima” on July 15th and 16th.

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Of course my first reaction was to get angry.  Steak Face was my baby and was a deeply personal piece for me.  But isn’t copying someones work a form of flattery?

I am not claiming to have been the only person who has ever worn a meat mask.  Artist Cornelie Tollens has a photograph of a women with a steak strapped to her face (an image I saw after performing steak face for almost a year).  However, I thought of this artist as a colleague and even a friend.  She had seen me perform with a steak mask on more then one occasion.

This same artist has ripped off another New York artist, Ventiko Thephotographer and her Sylva Dean and Me project.  Sylva Dean and Me (top) vs. Peruvian Copy below.  Clearly these images are extremely similar.  The fact that this is the second time this artist has produced identical work to her peers really makes me question her integrity.

Perhaps she is using the meat mask to hide from something?  Maybe it stems from an insecurity in her art practice?  A lack of material?  Maybe she felt that since she is performing in another country that it’s ok to copy another artists work because it will go unnoticed?  Or perhaps it is a critique?  I can only speculate.

It’s unfortunate because I absolutely love performing and it is essential to my being.  I want to support my fellow artists and keep contributing to a community that possesses such talent.  But I could really do without unnecessary drama…

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