I will, however, not escape.  I will breathe, summon all my physical, emotional, and spiritual faculties, and remember WHY I am here. I will close my eyes, allow gratitude to wash over me, and open my heart to those who have come to share what I have to offer. I will remember the survivors to whom this performance is dedicated, and as I hold their strength and courage close, I will take my starting place onstage.

As the new year unfolds, I will gather strength in order to grapple with the final choreographic choices, transitions, and technical issues.  I look forward to polishing the work with the dancers, watching the scenic and costume elements coalesce, and exploring more deeply the multiple layers of meaning within this piece.

The new year also brings about an anniversary: it has been two years since my breast cancer diagnosis. The date ushers in conflicting emotions: a sense of accomplishment for all that I have trudged through, but also a sense of terrible loss.  There is no doubt, however, that the creation of The Materiality of Impermanence has been essential to my healing–physical, emotional, and most importantly, spiritual.

 Happy New Year!

Lisa del Rosario, Angela Johnson, and Sheila Cruz

Dancer: Lisa del Rosario

What is a dance without the dancers? They embody what I attempt to say, and give color and meaning to an empty stage.

Their intelligence and passion strike a deep chord within me, and as they move, I behold my own life force.  It is magnificent.

A few days later, I met with two trusted friends to talk about their impressions.  I now muse upon their words, and am, as always, blown away by the difficulty of the choreographic process.  They identified issues I had surreptitiously and conveniently swept under the rug, issues that I must now confront, ponder, and rectify.  I must grapple with and solve uncomfortable music choices, cliché movement vocabulary, forced transitions, and (last, but not least!) unclear meaning.  There is much to do.

In the past I have choreographed pieces under the pressure of looming deadlines, putting them together with just enough time for dancers to learn the sequences before stepping onstage.  This time is purposely different.  The Materiality of Impermanence has given me the opportunity to immerse myself fully and repeatedly within layers of music, movement, and meaning. The luxury of time is allowing me to revisit the initial impulses that gave rise to this project, and to explore them in all their complexity.  Because of the nature of this particular work, it is a painful and challenging process, that nobody—not even the dancers—can share with me.

The creation of The Materiality of Impermanence is an act in honor of myself.  As such, I strive to peel away the unnecessary and the trivial, leaving only a vulnerable, yet hopefully, luminous authenticity.  It is an artistically and spiritually intimidating task, and in the end, I may not achieve it to my satisfaction.  Creation (and life) is a very lonely journey.

What we do not do so well, however, is to make space for the implicit expression of breast cancer.  The knowledge of this experience is comprised of much more than facts and studies: it is about accessing the language of the body, the senses, the spirit, and the deep primal need for connection and understanding. The Materiality of Impermanence seeks to address this imbalance.  It is my belief that through performance and art, integration and healing becomes possible.

I found out a few days ago that this phenomenon is not entirely unusual.  It even has an (unofficial) name: the cancer kiss-off. Apparently researchers have found that a woman is six times more likely to be separated or divorced shortly after a diagnosis of cancer or multiple sclerosis than a man diagnosed with the same diseases. The gender disparity is striking.

After my breast cancer diagnosis, the few men in my life found ways to wash their hands of having to worry about me, take care of me, or even call. This does not make me angry or sad anymore; I have accepted that not everyone is able to step up when needed.  I can’t help but think, however, that if they had been the ones with cancer–I would not have left their sides (at least at that moment), regardless of what was going on in the relationship.

Why are there no men in this dance? The duet has ended up on a heap of discarded choreography, and a saying in Spanish floats about in my head: “Brillan por su ausencia“. The men stand out–not because of their magnificent deeds–but because they are simply not there. Their most remarkable characteristic is their non-presence.  Therefore, I have decided that no men shall perform in The Materiality of Impermanence.  Their absence speaks louder than one thousand duets.

I am the (sometimes reluctant) subject of this vignette, directed by Chithra Jeyaram, part of a feature length film about my experience after a breast cancer diagnosis, as a woman, mother, and dancer.

The deadline is midnight, September 16th.  Do your civic duty and VOTE! (Three votes per e-mail address!)

Visit the link at http://www.breastfestfilmfest.com/shortscontest.shtml, watch the films, and vote for the one you like the best!

The short is part of a feature-length documentary, “The Foreign Puzzle”, directed by Chithra Jeyaram.  ”The Foreign Puzzle” features The Materiality of Impermanence, and will be screened in fall 2012. For more information on the film go to  www.foreignpuzzle.com.