Somehow I’ve found myself devoid of blogging the last couple of months. I suppose that’s what a third birthday does to you, and it does seem to be the third birthday of many blogs lately, including darling Theatre Notes, who smugly announced a Melbourne theatre bloggers party … I feel left out in the cold. (Anyone wanna fly me over to Melbourne? I probably don’t deserve it anymore seeing my pathetic regularity).

It feels time to return to supernaut. Beautiful Anna has blogged from Bruxelles, and Gala is soon to begin her blogging from Vienna. I won’t give the www yet, as I’m supposed to be doing the design now instead of … this.

I came to Adelaide to escape Melbourne. How long has it been now, almost two months, only two months. A short time even, and already an anxiety to move. China is still tempting me, but also I feel a need while contemplating journeys to airports – despite being atrociously poor – to remain for a while. To experience in the stopping that which I feel in the continual moving. For the moment Adelaide is perfect for this.

After Guangzhou last year, which was absolutely the hardest project I’ve ever done, and left me monumentally burnt out, I realised how much I was missing dancing. Before that, it had been about a year of continual dance, finding things in my body, new ways of moving, and then this abrupt stop. It was crush where I thought about the possibility of just dancing for a while became something tangible, and finding the whole Adelaide dance thing really came along at the right time, so now, since I first came here in September last year, I have, I guess, luxuriated in the infuriating storm of my body dancing.

It becomes a difficult question to answer though, “How long are you staying, what are you doing?” The answer to the first is entirely predicated on currency. The latter … to say I’m focussing on my training seems a little underwhelming. Perhaps I can be obtuse and hint at works that vaguely circle around my thoughts, or of getting in to a studio and choreographing. I am waiting. I am trying to find something in me, in my body or possibly more likely in my thoughts that will allow me to keep moving.

This return to all the Forsythe stuff in a situation where I am teaching it rather than the usual showing it to whoever I’m dancing with and saying, “ok let’s make something now” has been so liberating in me thinking about dancing. I don’t often feel natural or comfortable or capable or coordinated or articulate or proficient or … and so on when I dance. I’m slow, I learn slowly, I find different teachers and techniques baffling, incomprehensible, frustrating, torturous for different reasons, and so often feel I am trying to hide somewhere even while I am trying to dance, embarrassed by my own inability.

But with this Forsythe stuff … as I remember it being taught, as I remember doing it, by dancers from the company, so I suppose I can affix the attribute of his name to whatever it is I’m doing, possibly I am so far from this orbit … it slides onto me so easily. It’s where I belong and the more I do it the more ecstatic and intoxicated I get. Intellectually I find it so simple to grasp and from there to moving, it’s just a game, the closer I get to accuracy, the more I find there is endless possibilities. Then I get all over-excited and hyper-intellectual at what could be done in choreographing. I would like to keep it simple for a while. Just dancing around.

Two years ago I was in Zürich. A year ago, in Guangzhou. This time next year? I’m not sure but I have this slowly building feeling that certain things have to occur if I’m to keep dancing. To keep dancing every day is part of it, but this return to Europe … how boring can I be in this repetition, this need to be home? To dance alone is not enough, I need a sense of belonging. I’ve found it in Adelaide more than anywhere outside of Europe, but here is not for permanence. Here I think is to find how to dance, and then.