flit.

anatomy.

Do you ever feel like your life is a little like a Grey's Anatomy episode? Not with the surgery, hot doctors (I wish) and hookups, but rather the lesson or voice of knowledge of Dr. Grey that opens and closes each flash into their world.

As much as I don't like to admit it, I've had some really bad assumptions of particular people that I have been forced to work or collaborate with, and found their help lacking - this is within all my realms of interest, dance, journalism, yoga, work and more.

But what happens when you're put out of your own context and she them doing something the obviously care about deeply? I tell you, I was so touched and surprised, when I witnessed one of my colleagues from one of my worlds in a completely different element. Perhaps we're not on the same page of getting things done in the realm we share, but their choice of words, performance and acknowledgement really threw me for a loop.

So Dr. Grey, what's your lesson? How do I accept that some let everyone down in some work, but excel so beautifully in other valleys? Should we go 50-50? All in to one? How do you decide the balance?

Just a thought to ponder this weekend.

notebooks.

"We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox." - Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

caribou.

On March 10, 2011 two of my pieces will be performed at the Kelowna Community Theatre stage with my name behind them. I'm terribly nervous, as this is the first time my work will be shown on other dancers besides myself. When you're teaching and performing your own choreography, you know where to move if things don't go right, can improv, and are so encapsulaed in the piece that everything can work.

How do I make my dancers feel this?

When I started brainstorming ideas behind my contemporary number, I was terribly torn with what direction I wanted to go in. First, these girls

are in high school...how did I feel those few years ago? Uncertain about the future, had weekly romance drama in the hallways, obsession for perfection. I took my ideas out to my friends and found how many people felt the same way I did, but had a completely different experience - all within the same concrete building.

Turning my old bedroom into a dance studio, (moving aside a ginormous dresser was not easy) my movements started small and rigid. Jump, kick, turn. Repeat.

Not working Portia, you're being typical.

I sat down and worked hard to do absolutely nothing for a few moments and let the music take over me. I needed it to surround me, to feel each chord, the breaths of the artist. From here, a more organic movement began. Repetition of arms, a sign here, grab hands, pushing away.

Although we are all living different lives around the city, country, continent, world, there is always that unifying line or event that connects us all. Whether it be that high school dance, the Twin Towers fall on 9/11, watching the same movie and more - we are uniquely different, but have had the same experiences through completely different filters. Finding those changes and interpretations opens my eyes as an artist and in a journey to understand more.

If you're able to go to the show, I hope you can and let me know what you think.

This piece is a little reflection of who I am, what I'm learning and how I've experienced some parts of life. If I can connect and touch one person in the audience, I'll be over the moon.

Photo by Portia Favro during the choreography process - check out my piece to see if the leg extension made it!

B&W15.

wobble.

I would be perfectly happy to dance and choreograph for the rest of my life. Whether it be in a studio or on a floor with bunch of friends - there are few things more wonderful to me than that zen experience of just you and the must.

essential.

It may be that I just watched Sex and the City 2 (which was interesting to say the least), but I could especially connect with how Carrie feels about being in a place where you need to shut yourself away from the outside world and write your heart out.

There's something really fantastic about having your apartment to yourself on a random night. I adore my roommates to pieces, but when you're running around in a city of a few million people everyday, being suddenly alone could freak you out (it did last summer) or could be the right now. I feel good, I'm content.

This also allows me with a lot of time to think - especially out loud. Lately, it's been about what I want right now. My relationships have changed, our roles in the world are becoming (hopefully) less able to walk out of, and for the first time here, I really feel like I belong. Finally, puzzle pieces are coming together.

So where do we go from here?

When I was out the other night, I was talking with a friend in radio and television arts and she asked me, "So how do you have a life?".

"I don't sleep much," I said, with a laugh.

This is the quin essential moment and process I'm going through. True, I'm busy (who isn't?) but there is a method to madness. I believe that having everything planned out and finding what I am able to do, actually allows for me to have more free time to get work done, relax, visit with friends. I'm hyper connected to work and life, but that also allows me to call my own shots on a lot of things. And well, after a bit of grunt work, that's pretty fabulous for the moment.

Even though the new year and moving on and what not, don't forget those resolutions. Perhaps by being busy, you are actually more free. Don't believe me? Give it a shot and we'll discuss.

Have a fantastic weekend!

supernatural.

"I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?" - John Lennon

papà.

I'm so sorry to be M.I.A. lately, but you know the speal - start of the semester, too much reading, etc. etc. However, today is a very special day. It's my dad's birthday.

My dad taught me that I can do anything I want, be whomever I want to be, and he always has my back. He's let me stand on his shoulders and help achieve my dreams, no matter how far-fetched, unattainable or just plain silly they might have been (and may still be). He taught me how to waltz, to never say no to a boy asking me to dance, and time jokes in conversations perfectly.

But perhaps the most importance lesson he has taught me was to love myself for who I am.

I'm not a tomboy. I still am, and always will be the dancing-yoga-swimming-pink loving-girly girl. When I was a child, my dad took me into San Francisco at Christmastime and to the toy store F.A.O Schwartz (RIP) to see the windows, displays and the Willy Wonka-esque rooms of toys. However, what to I remember most from that day?

1. The Barbie section (i.e. Mecca)
2. This glass fish tank with Barbie shoes floating through the water as a display for the banister

You know what's even cooler? My dad was totally okay with me just wanting to stay entranced with the Barbie section. He didn't drag me away, he didn't huff and puff. It was just him and I, bonding over stilettos. But all these years later, I can see a lesson here - by his actions, my dad showed me that it was okay to be exactly who I was, and he accepted me for who I am completely. He didn't push me to become something I didn't want to be, which is huge considering where I am in my life.

He's my first and will always be my favourite dance partner. I'm still running toward my dreams, and know that no matter what happens, my dad is the kinda guy who'll take care of me and bring me back up. Even if it means going to look for those Barbie shoes again.

Happy Birthday Dad. I love you and hope that you're dancing on the beach in Mexico - wish I could be there.