La Buffness

Like many humans of the Western female persuasion, I have spent a fair bit of my life attempting to be very slim. It's always seemed a fairly obvious goal to have and in theory not unattainable, since (although I eat like a horse and have a weakness for stodge) I mostly enjoy healthy food, walk everywhere, and am genetically inclined away from obesity. I'm no chubber, but the 'ideal' size and weight has always just been slightly down the road a stretch - there's always seemed a lot of room to be skinnier and smaller, even when I've been at my skinniest and smallest. And somehow I've never questioned whether I should want that or not, or what the implications could be.

But...why should women all want to be physically less? So they can look extra weak and in need of protection at all times? So they can take up less of the precious space that men should rightfully occupy, with their own societally imposed ideal of being Bigger and Stronger? Hmmm. My strident feminist side isn't too keen on either of those ideas.

Im not saying that I'm pro-fat. I am still the product of my own society after all; I spent way too many years (age 11 to age 30 to be precise) devouring fashion magazines to be that mentally liberated. And to be frank, I don't think getting fatter would help me be healthier, feel more energetic or improve my aerial skills, all of which are dear to my heart. But I've decided that I am pro-lady muscles. Not quite world champion body-builder lady muscles, since I find that kind of thing a bit creepy on both sexes, but just some high-standard female buffness.

Maybe this is an inevitable result of doing a bit of aerial conditioning and being obsessed with an activity that requires a fair bit of strength, but I have suddenly become very excited about the idea of being SUPER RIPPED.

This is where I'm at right now:

As you can see, I have... can we just say, a little way to go? before I can lay claim to anything approaching buff. But it's definitely the new goal that I am using to barge the 'get smaller' mindset out of the way. 'Get bigger' feels like a much more satisfying aim to me. Why shouldn't I look like I can handle myself in an arm wrestling contest/move my own furniture/rip your head off with my bare hands? Why shouldn't I take up a bit more space as I move through this world of ours? And - bonus!- this goal will allow me to actually enjoy food rather than increasing the background rumble of guilt that has dogged many a meal (cake binge) of mine over the years.

You never know, maybe one day I will reach the dizzying heights of this CRAZY girl, holy crap she's amazing:

All the Hoop-La!

Right then, time for an update on my personal aerial progress. I may have been rubbish at keeping this as an online diary, but I have been going to class, I promise!

Over the last 6 weeks things have settled into a nice routine of 1 x hoop class, 1 x dance class and 1-2 x yoga classes per week.  I feel like by rights this should be making some kind of amazing difference to my physique, but in actual fact my body has seamlessly assimilated the new regime into it's usual inflexible, puny and flabby state of being. There has been basically no change, grrr. I need to do more, moooooore...

Having said that though, some exciting (for me) landmarks have been reached / passed:

1.  I can now successfully do around 5 press ups in a row, OH YEAH. That may sound utterly shit, but I have never been able to do those bastards and now that I can I feel mighty. Bring on the giant upper arms!

2. I can (mostly accurately) follow a very slow, very easy, sequence of dance choreography. I still look ridiculous doing it but at least I'm not bumping into the people around me or weeping with humiliation.

3. In contrast to past times, I can still manage to get up onto the damn hoop by the end of the class when my muscles are tired. This comes in pretty handy.

4. This one week, I successfully managed to do a pike roll!! Click here to see a pike roll.

So apart from these exciting, if tiny, improvements, what are the main differences between what now and the old times at NCCA? 

Well the most glaring difference is the equipment, I suppose, being that I'm learning hoop rather than trapeze et al. That's AERIAL hoop, by the way, NOT HULA hoop as everyone seems to assume. (Pff! is all I have to say to that). If you're still confused, this should help clarify things:

(please note, this is just to show the beauty that's possible on the aerial breed of hoop. This guy is amazing and has probably been practicing daily since birth. What I am able to do looks nothing like this)

Another difference is that the atmosphere at the current place is much less 'herd the large groups of students around the P.E. hall shouting instructions' and much more 'hey 3-4 people whose names I know, let's hang out and do some aerial shit'. Which is a long way to say, it's smaller and friendlier. This is nice and helps counteract the fact that it's a drop-in class with mostly non-regular attendees (as mentioned previously).

And a final difference is that it's mixed level. As also mentioned in past posts, this combined with the drop-in factor means that there is a much less obvious line of progression and I'm not going to lie, it is a little bit frustrating.  I want to see clear results dammit! I want to keep doing the same moves week after week until I get them or kill myself trying! I'm having fun in these classes, I'm getting stronger and I am obviously still learning moves, but we often cover completely different things each week. Quite frankly I generally make a pig's ear of all of them and then forget them completely. Booo.

The other aspect of the mixed-level-ness is that I'm learning with people who are a lot, lot better than me. To give you an idea, the last three classes I've been to have also been attended by this girl (who whilst ridiculously nice and modest, is just so clearly in a entirely different world of skill):

This has it's advantages in that I can see others doing things well and try to copy them, and also be inspired/entertained. But it also has some disadvantages, in that it's kind of demoralising to see everyone else effortlessly gliding through things, while you're falling on your head about 60% of the time, and being caught by the teacher the other 40%. It's mostly meant that, despite the best efforts of the teachers (who have been at least as good, if not better, than the ones at NCCA - I'm not criticising them at all) to include something for everyone, the moves have often been pitched at a much higher level than I'm at, so there has been a lot of failure.  AND WE ALL KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT FAILURE.

Given this, I'm thinking of making some kind of radical overhaul to my learning strategy: streamlining, economising, obtaining some way of measuring my progress etc. Watch this space...

Bitten and Bruised

Bitten...

I've been chatting to a few other aerial class attendees over the past few weeks and am reassured to find that I'm not the only person the circus lion has taken in his hot, obsessive jaws.  I've discovered at least two others who are as addicted as me, or more - one of whom is signed up for four classes a week and the other who is doing an intensive course. My new enabler, Gravity Circus, do an incredibly tempting-sounding 'prep' course, which entails six weeks of 13 hours training per week (all in the evenings and weekends so that normal working mortals can join), covering rope, conditioning, silks, stretches, hoop, pilates, handstand and tumbling. It costs £800, which is quite an investment, so I'm pretty sure anyone who does this course has it REAL bad for circus skills.

The girl I spoke to said she'd already been doing aerial for about a year and a half, and has no designs on becoming a professional or anything, she just loves it so much she wanted to do the prep deal.  YES, I feel you lady! Apart from the whole £800 bit. Maybe if I miraculously win the lottery... She also told me that when she first started learning she did a few different taster classes and realised that strength was the key to getting anywhere, no matter which piece of equipment you go with, so she literally just did aerial conditioning (strength development exercises) and nothing else for the first 6 months. Now that is hardcore dedication! I am inspired. Although I don't think I can handle just conditioning alone - there has to be some fun in there somewhere for me - those kinds of classes are a bit cheaper, so mixing some in could be good.

...and Bruised 

This here is a v bad quality photo of my very own personal post-rope-class leg.  The bruises looked way more dramatic in real life I swear.

I've also found myself pondering the pain aspect of learning aerial and/or acrobatics a lot recently, mostly because, well OWW, hurting myself on a regular basis!  It is really quite hard on your body, at least when you're crap at it (my theory is that the better you get, the less you hurt yourself in a muscle pain, bruisey-burny way, but the more likely you are to have a big injury like breaking a bone). When I creak around the office unable to lift my arms, or show people the giant bruises on the my legs, they are mostly appalled and baffled as to why I would want to do this to myself*.  In the classes themselves, also, there is a fair bit of 'oww'ing and complaining about how much certain things hurt. Yet this is an integral, predictable part of learning pretty much every discipline I've tried, and anyone who's done more than one class knows it.

So why do we keep coming back for more? Well, apart from all the obvious and wonderful benefits of aerial which I have blathered on about it in past posts, I think there's also a big element of testing your limits, seeing how far you can push your body, how much you can take before you give up.  This is actually inherent in the learning process. For example, getting to the point where you can happily hang from equipment by the back of one knee, or your heels, your toes, etc. involves spending as long as you can in each position before the pain gets too much, i.e. hanging for 10 seconds each class, then 15, then 20. It hurts, yeah, but it's also kind of... interesting? Like a scientific experiment with pain.

I also think there's a weird kind of enjoyment in seeing the evidence of your labour and hardship displayed on your body, like battle scars I guess. I'm not quite sure of the psychology behind this, but I've never met anyone who can resist showing people when they've sustained some kind of injury, whether its a crazy rainbow bruise or a giant wound. And so it is with circus bruises - there's even a Twitter handle: @circushurts and hashtag (#circushurts), to satisfy this very need!

Lastly, and this is possibly more controversial, I do slightly wonder whether there's a hint of masochism going on?  It's kind of taking pleasure in pain after all.  If you don't enjoy pain even a tiny bit, then going to classes which involve systematically hurting yourself probably isn't going to be for you.  So by that logic, does that mean all aerial fanatics are masochists? Hmmm, might need to think about that one for a bit longer...

* This is a partial truth - their actual reaction is usually more along the lines of 'MM-HMM, yes MORE bruises Felicity, yaawwwwn'

Circus Video of the Month - March

'When we watch another human being making a movement, whether it is sticking out a tongue, carrying packages, swerving, dancing, eating or clapping their hands, our neurons fire in the same way, as if we ourselves were making the movement.'

'The brain has a built-in empathic and mimicking capacity. It translates what is seen through the eyes into the equivalent of doing and is structured to absorb and prepare itself for what we may not yet have mastered.' 

Susie Orbach

 I came across this quote the other day and am taking it to mean that watching hours and hours of YouTube videos of OTHER PEOPLE doing circus skills, is entirely constructive and useful.

Thanks Susie!

P.S. this video is insane, and is making me want to take rope next term.  I am so confused right now.

Rope or trapeze?

ROPE OR TRAPEZE?

If anyone has any opinion at all on this, please let me know.

Inspiration, Perspiration and Concentration

It's fair to say that the last couple of weeks have been a bit of a challenge in terms of my personal circus skills development. While I've been getting on nicely with the supporting classes I'm doing (flexibility and yoga, plus dabbling with odd bits of ballet and gymnastics for geriatric hephalump dummies), the actual skills classes have not gone so well...

My final flying trapeze class was awful, involving a complete lack of motivation on my part, and doing terribe clingy, jerky take-offs that were worse than my first attempts and which practically wrenched the poor pectoral muscles out of my body.  To round things off nicely, at the end of the class the teacher informed me that I was not good enough to be signed-off for level 2 (at the end of each block of classes, they assesses whether you will be able to progress to the next level with that piece of equipment, should you so choose). I already knew that I don't want to take flying trapeze next term, but it still did NOT feel good to know that I had failed it, wah! I would be lying if I said this didn't put a dent in my rabid aerial enthusiasm.

I am not someone who deals well with failure.  My usual method of coping with even the risk of failing at something is to avoid it at all costs and stick to what I'm good at, or can learn quickly. So in actual fact, this experience was an excellent lesson for me in humility and acceptance. So I'm a bit rubbish at flying trapeze? Whatever. At least I had a go right? And if I really loved it I would just pay another £250 and repeat the course until I was good enough for level 2.  After a few hours of grumpy moping, I realised this and moved on (ish).

That class was also an excellent lesson in how much learning something, at least with physical-skill stuff, is about mental attitude.  I arrived not feeling very energetic or motivated, and instead of bucking myself up and going for it anyway, I gave in to the inclination to be a lame-ass. I had the thought lurking at the back of my mind 'well, I don't want to do this next term anyway, so who cares if I improve this week' and it really showed in my attitude, my body and each little aspect of what I was doing. Clinging to the platform with my toes, not concentrating or getting into the rhythm of the swings properly and dismounting like a jellyfish.  I knew it, and the teacher could see it too - hence the big fat fail.

This week we moved on to Rope, much to my relief. However that session didn't go 100% smoothly either! It wasn't an unmitigated disaster (I managed to execute some clumsy basic climbs and foot wraps), but the rope is quite a harsh piece of equipment, involving a lot of burn/bruising risk and - well, basically you really need to be s.t.r.o.n.g. to do it well. This made everything feel hard and intimidating.

Luckily we have a really nice teacher for this piece of equipment, one who started the class by telling us not to compare ourselves negatively to other people in the group, as everyone is different and learns at their own speed. We should each just try to improve from our own starting points over the 4 weeks. I tried to bear this in mind as I repeatedly failed to achieve what I believe is a hiplock from scissors (I didn't really take this in during the class as my brain was just going 'Arrrrghghghghgh?!?!?!?') while the annoyingly high muscle-to-fat ratio guys in the class got it straight away. Bah humbug.

The move is demonstrated expertly here by this guy who TAUGHT HIMSELF to do it, holy crap.

 

I came away from the session feeling slightly defeated and starting to wonder whether I should even bother finishing the course, or if Rope is just too much of a pointless mountain to climb (seeing as I always intended to do static trapeze next term anyway). But that's just too depressing - such a mindset cannot be allowed to continue!

Remember the old '1% inspiration, 99% perspiration' adage? Well I know the idea of that is to encourage people to put a bit more elbow grease into things, but actually I think I've been getting too bogged down in the perspiration bit and was in need of a bit more of the inspiration (is it really only supposed to be 1%?).  I have spent the last few days happily burrowing my way down a new YouTube rabbit hole full of people doing amazing things on ropes.  There's TONS of good videos, one of them will definitely be video of the month for March.

The result of this has been a big surge of motivation to keep trying on Rope, and actually to also keep an open mind about what I will continue with after Easter.  Even if I'm not a natural at it, I'm sure if go in with a good attitude next week and try to focus a bit more instead of letting my mind spin off into a wild panic of incomprehension, I can improve at least a little bit. Burning new neural pathways and all that (thanks militant teacher from January!). If I can get that blummin scissor hiplock thing down by the end of term I will judge myself to have succeeded, RRARRGH. And even if I don't,  at the very least I'm building upper body strength, which basically helps with everything.

There will be no giving up, not on my watch dammit!

Trapeze: Cornucopia of Goodness

Human in graceful flight (pic found on Pinterest, not sure who to credit!)

It's been half-term at the NCCA this week, which means no classes, and although I've tried to substitute mine with another beginners ballet class and an aerial conditioning/rope class somewhere else (rope = fun, who knew!) I have definitely missed my weekly trapeze fix.  Which has made me wonder why it is that I love it so much, even though I'm a complete novice. What is it exactly that makes messing about on a bar and some ropes so appealing?

I guess the most obvious things are the usual endorphins you get from exercising, and the feeling of connecting back into your body, of using it properly, after a long day hunched over a computer. But it can't be just those things, because you can get them from any old sport right? Including running (not for me, thanks), ball sports (are you insane?) and swimming (oh dear god, no!).

I was thinking maybe it's the added 'artistic' factor. You know, that there's a bit more style and beauty about trapezing than, say, athletics or netball. But that's equally true of dance, and although I feel there's potential for me to grow to enjoy dance classes, I haven't immediately fallen in love with them the way I did with trapeze.

No, aerial classes give me so much more.

First there's the pleasantly light-hearted experience of learning a new skill in a positive, non-competitive atmosphere where repeated failure and looking silly is totally acceptable because everyone is in the same boat. Turning upside down with your bum in the air and twisting/swinging your body into new shapes is something its impossible not to look silly doing - most people up laughing at themselves and everyone else.  Then bit by bit, move by move, this becomes a triumphant feeling of achievement and pride as you start to master some of the tasks and techniques, along with feeling genuinely happy for others who are also succeeding, because you understand.

As well as gradually getting physically stronger, more capable, and achieving things you didn't think you would be able to, with aerial skills you get the added frisson of being a bit daring. Of doing things that take a little courage and grit, and the ability to deal with pain. Personally I love this, even if it's not a completely accurate view of myself just yet! I have spent much of my life being geeky, non-sporty and utterly impractical, but building up my aerial skills makes me feel like I'm giving those bitchy, sadistic hockey girls from school the middle finger.  F**k you I'M PROPER HARD and stuff me now, haha. I mean this symbolically obviously.

(Why is it your school experiences stay with you for basically ever?  I'm 33 for goodness sake, but I still remember certain PE lessons at school in great detail *shudder*)

Freedom (pic from fuckyeahcircus.tumblr.com)

But apart from all this constructive physical stuff, trapeze especially is just good for your soul, I think. The sensation of flying, or being uplifted - even just by being up high on the equipment - is something that fufills some funny human need.  I'm sure there's all sorts of literature about the human desire to fly, but I don't need to read it to know that it's a thing - at least for me.  Who doesn't see birds soaring up into the sky and wish they could do the same?  It looks like freedom.  It looks like joy. Trapeze gives you a taste of this freedom from the weight of gravity (don't worry, I'm not about to break into song), and it also gives you a taste of a greater freedom of movement in your body, because training increases your strength and flexibility.

It's lovely.  Even watching someone else do it is fabulous.

It's not just me that's noticed the mood-enhancing qualities of trapeze either.  I had a little Google time and found a few other people espousing the benefits. Most noteably there's a lady called Jo Rixom who has run a project with My Aerial Home in south London, looking at the effect of trapeze lessons on women with depression. I was not at all surprised to learn that the results were definitively positive. This story was picked up by the Guardian and the BBC last year and subsequently all over the place, yet somehow I missed it!

Quite a few things in the articles chimed with me, but I particularly liked the quote from a participant that 'trapeze is symbolic of things out of reach and you find your way to get up... to turn your body upside-down was extraordinary, as an adult shifting your whole perspective physically moved things'. Read all about it here, or watch the BBC video. Jo Rixom had an academic article published about the project too - nice work lady!

I also found a great blog post, which is along similar lines to this one, but way funnier:

http://romywood.co.uk/reasons-why-people-with-manic-depression-are-suited-to-the-circus/

Despite these bits and bobs, and the handful of articles about social circus, I get the feeling that there's potential for more research in this area. Maybe it's just because I'm working in an academic environment at the moment, but.... my PhD ambitions are stirring again. Whether it's remotely possible for me to do a project on the therapeutic effects of trapeze without a degree in Psychology is doubtful, but I'm SO glad that I've discovered - even as a stiff, flabby adult - the happiness that is hanging upside down from bit of circus equipment!!

Aerial Lesson #1

If you've been paying attention (it's okay if you haven't, I forgive you), you will know that I started my Aerial Level 1 course at the National Centre for Circus Arts this week, YAYYYY! So I thought I'd  write a bit about it, mostly to prove that I'm actually going. 

The National Centre for Circus Arts (NCCA) is a circus school in Hoxton which runs kids and adult amateur classes, as well as accredited BTEC, BA and Post-grad courses. It says on its website that it is considered one of the top three schools in Europe, and it certainly seems pretty heavily oversubscribed as far as the adult classes go. I was on the waiting list from August to November and had to book my slot on the Aerial 1 course the very same day they went on sale to be sure of getting on.

Pic: www.hackneygazette.co.uk

It's a pretty cool place. I knew this before I turned up on Wednesday, because I went for a admin-y job interview there in the summer and got a magical personal tour of the building (I didn't get the job, sad face. I'm pretty sure it wasn't for lack of circus enthusiasm so it can only have been my complete inability to remember a time when I'd worked well as part of a team/invented a new filing system, or some such rubbish. Pffff).

It's housed in an old Victorian electric light station, so it has this whole red-brick, industrial vibe going on, overlaid with lovely glass and wooden modernity everywhere inside.  There are some big, open sports-type halls with all the aerial equipment, office and meeting spaces, studios etc, a library (So much good stuff!! I had to strongly control myself in there, especially around the DVD shelves when my tour guide was like 'yeah there's loads there that you can't find on YouTube'. Nnnngggggg lemme at it. I've since seen rumour of them opening this library to the public. YES PLEASE!!) and best of all, a weird long, narrow, bouncy, spongy, padded-wall room where they do acrobatics training.

Ohhh I wanted that job so bad after they showed me the acrobatics room! It did smell of socks though. 

Anyway, the way the aerial course works is; students rotate through Static Trapeze, Flying Trapeze and Rope, 3-4 weeks on each, and you can choose which to start with.  I went for Static Trapeze first, as part of a cunning strategy to save Rope until I have built up some upper-body strength (that shit is HARD man), so I was well within my comfort zone for this class.  I would even venture to say it was a little too easy, since I'm not a complete beginner. I was glad about that when I could still move my arms the next day though!

Apart from the obvious mount and dismount, which I fear I will never be able to do properly, we covered the three most basic positions. These are as follows:-

Mermaid

Pic: thecircusdictionary.com

Doing this feels a lot scarier than it looks.

Stag

A move so simple I can't even find a picture of it on the internet. In essence it consists of standing on the bar of the trapeze, holding on to the ropes high and leaning forward/backward with one leg held out elegantly. Good for getting used to balancing on only your tippy toes (or parrot claws as I like to think of them) and being up hiiiigh.

Bird's Nest

Pic: thecircusdictionary.com

This is one of my favourites, feels like a Proper Real move but it's not scary at all and you get to have a nice back stretch. 

In conclusion then - a successful first week in which I didn't fall off or hit anyone in the face, as has happened in previous lessons, and only embarrassed myself in the sense that I went with Trapeze Outfit No.1: hot pants over leggings paired with knee-length stripey socks. I swear to you that this has been fairly average clothing of students in past classes I've attended, but on this occasion I was THE ONLY ONE in such garb and I therefore felt like a bit of twat. May reconsider this for next week... 

Getting A Leg Up With Circus

Did you know that Cirque du Soleil runs a social circus program, Cirque du Monde, for at-risk youth in over 80 communities worldwide?

I didn't, until I read this recent article on CircusTalk, but I have since been delving into the subject of 'social circus' on them there internets and feeling seriously inspired. Circus arts outreach might seem a bit wishy-washy. It's not like it's financial aid, healthcare, trauma counseling or any of those other vital things, right? No, but it's effects do sound incredible.

Cirque du Monde combines the teaching of circus skills with social intervention; providing a safe and fun space for young people, and encouraging the development of things like self-confidence, perseverance and discipline, getting/staying healthy (for instance in South Africa, it's used to motivate kids with HIV to follow their treatments) and feelings of trust and community. Just watch this:



Don't get me wrong, aside from my obvious predisposition to love anything that spreads circus, I'm as suspicious and numb to do-gooding as the next over-media-ed 21st century drone. But I have to say it's pretty convincing. The clincher for me was this quote from a Cirque du Soleil 'Community Worker's Guide' book:

'Circus arts have traditionally been linked with certain forms of marginality (nomadic existence, balancing acts, exuberance, artistic creativity, disguises, etc.) that are naturally attractive to young people. Those who live in situations excluded from society find in it a positive and constructive mirror of their own marginality, as well as a means of doing it justice...Social circus does not seek to standardize or water down the marginal side of the participants or try to force them to conform at any price, but rather aims at providing young people with the tools to learn to communicate with the community from the fringes.'

Yes.  Yes! That can only be a force for good in the world, surely? I'm sold.

It's not just the Cirque du Monde projects either, there are other smaller schemes and groups quietly dotting the globe. Closer to home (for me), there are organisations like the quite frankly wonderful-sounding Mimbre, who are based in East London.

I haven't had the opportunity to see any of their shows yet, but Mimbre's website says that they create acrobatic theatre, performing in unconventional settings and 'reclaiming some beauty in the urban environment...through strong imagery, visual poetry and emotional content'.  They also run a participation programme that allows kids from low-income households in Hackney to learn acrobatics and take part in creative projects.

Although I wasn't previously aware of 'social circus' or circus therapy as a thing, as someone who has had (tedious, irritating) body image issues since teenage, I did know about the therapeutic effects of circus skills classes - just from the few I've taken.  You don't have to be from a socially excluded / disadvantaged sector of society, young, or have gone through a horrific experience, to feel the benefits - although of course these groups can benefit the most, and deserve to do so. You can just be any old human and have it change your whole view of things.

Trapeze classes weren't just fun and fitness for me, they allowed me to start seeing myself in a different way.  To see that my body could be good because it was strong, brave and clever (something that I'd previously felt was restricted to my brain, while my physical form was just a lumpish, oaf-y thing dragging around behind it). Learning trapeze made me feel like, maybe at some point, my body could be beautiful even though it isn't perfect. Not through having exactly the right proportions, being super-toned, magically obtaining perfect skin, or any of those stupid things I've been failing to acheive with it since I was 14, but beautiful because of the things I could teach it to do, the shapes I could train it to make.  When I was taking those classes I felt connected with not just my head and my heart, but the rest of me too.

(Given all that, you probably won't be surprised that I'm looking forward to starting trapeze again!)

It's hard to experience that kind of thing without wanting to share it with others.  I'm a lifetime away from being able to teach anything aerial, but I CAN tell people about how great the benefits of learning circus skills are and fully intend to do so at every given opportunity.  Brace yourselves!

Everything But The Circus - Part Two

Ehem, bit more of a gap between Parts 1 and 2 than I intended (it's been my birthday, can I use that as an excuse? Busy at work? Okay I've just been rubbish)! Where was I? Oh yeah, Bristol, 2012, with my trembling little foot set on a trapeze for the first time.  

It was a circus taster day at Circomedia, in their lovely re-purposed church on Portland Square. I signed up for it pretending to myself that there was the slightest chance I would be taken by acrobatics or juggling, that my head might be turned by the tightrope.  Stupid.  Literally the moment I made it up to a sitting position on the bar of the trapeze I knew that this was for me. My life had just been gently but fundamentally tweaked, the needle hopped a fraction to the left on the record.

Circomedia's church - pic borrowed from www.visitchurches.org.uk

Over the next few weeks I came back and worked at all the basic, wonderful, exhilarating, painful beginners moves. And I WASN'T terrible at it! Despite being crap at basically every sport I've ever tried, having no coordination, and the fact that my natural upper-body strength to lower-body fat ratio is not particularly suited to hanging around with my puny arms above my head.

I wore all my bruises and rope-burns and tired muscles with pride. I loved feeling the aches and pains, they were like a happy secret I carried around in my body through humdrum work days, a reminder that there was more to my life than sitting at a desk emailing. I spent hours trying and failing to do pull-ups at home. I watched just about every static trapeze video on YouTube. I did stretches every night. I listened to all the music on my ipod trying to figure out what tracks I might one day do a routine to. I repeatedly showed people my imperceptibly larger biceps (they were very polite about it). I did circus-focussed freewriting exercises. I dreamed and dreamed about trapeze.

So, you may be wondering where I'm going with all this. Am I a skilled amateur aerialist now? Performing in cabarets? Running a circus school?

No. Sadly I am doing none of those things. Because, I am ashamed to say, I did not stick at it. All that obsessive stuff I just listed above lasted about two months total, and then I let life came between me and trapeze.

Me, pretending to be some kind of farmhand, but mostly just letting life come between me and trapeze

For a million different reasons  - every one of them idiotic - that burning aerial love got squashed up, pushed back, packed down and put away.  I was too far away from the regular class venue at Circomedia; I was too broke; I was too tired and demoralised by my crappy job; I left Bristol on a wacked-out hippy mission to become an organic farmer, to travel around and live without money, to do a PhD (I didn't get funding), to be a housesitter, a waitress, to run away to Taiwan, and finally, to move to London and sort my god damn life out. Bla bla bla, all you need to know is, there's been EVERYTHING BUT THE CIRCUS.

But no more! Somewhere in the middle of all the craziness of the last 18 months, I was lent a sweet whacked-out hippy book on how to figure out your heart's desire, and I was feeling just about lost enough to follow all the steps.  Guess what my heart's desire was?

Yeah.

So now I'm actually settled in one place, with just about enough financial stability, the classes are booked people, the CLASSES ARE BOOKED! After being on the waiting list for months, I finally have a date with the National Centre for Circus Arts, me...some other people, I'm assuming a teacher and some aerial equipment. 7th Jan 2015, 12 week course. Hallelujah!!

Will it stick this time? It bloody better. (I'll keep you posted).