Shaved Locks & Good Looks

When I arrived to the US this time around I was flying in from not only my home country, but from a world of professional dancing. A flashbulb world where my long red hair had been a large commercial selling point for me. Not only that, but I would be commencing a life that I would be shared with another person.

I landed in Florida a little over three months ago now. I moved here to build a new pathway with my fiance, Govian. After a year and a half of being an Atlantic ocean away from each other, we finally came up with a way to create a life that balances both of our passions in the same place.

And now?

We are living in a renovated tour bus on lush green lands nearby to a beautiful beach, training each day to create circus acts to go out in the world and travel with. My days are spent dancing in the air now in various aerial acts. My evenings are spent by firesides, painting and writing, and having real time to create more than I probably ever have. As an artist, I couldn’t ask for more than to spend my hours in this way. 

Oh, and I shaved my head!

The hair? I donated it to a wonderful charity called ‘Locks of Love’ that use donated hair to make wigs for children with cancer. Govian boldly shaved it all it off for me one evening in our tour bus home. As the hair fell away, I physically felt years of weight and history fall away with it. In all honesty, it was one of the most liberating experiences of my life.

The moment that really caught me about the whole experience was the surprising amount of fear that came to me in the moments just before we started the process. My head was filled with the casting directors that might now reject me, or the modelling jobs I may no longer have access to. Most superficially of all, I was worried I would look terrible. I realized in those moments how heavily invested I was in my own appearance.

Thankfully, my ugly duckling fears were lifted away by the gentle encouragement of Govian, who could see past the vanity and the social conditioning I was gripping on to. As I felt the cut away of my long ponytail to be sent on to ‘Locks of Love’, I let go, and listened only to the buzz of the razor as it danced around my skull. 

Since donating, I have been amazed at the love people have shared. Some even going as far as making financial donations to the charity I gave it all to! As for me, I no longer hide behind my hair as I once did. I am exposed, and cannot rely on my long red mane for approval any longer. In all honesty, I've never felt more confident or more feminine. It’s a whole lot easier to get ready, too!

So why are we so hung up on how we look? What lies within us that we feel the need to be any more than we are at any time? What counts as ‘more’, in any case?

Currently, a close dancing friend of mine is frustrated in her audition experiences. Irrespective of her talent, years of training and the steeliest determination I have seen in anyone in a long time, she is often cut from castings because the panels are choosing the ‘model look’ dancer rather than the one who can do the job to a higher standard. My friend is utterly beautiful, no doubt. But the girl with the 6-pack abs is so often the one who gets the job, regardless of her level of skill. To my friend, this is the ultimate frustration of which I can totally understand. Is this the stage we have arrived at now? Do we really value looks over talent to the extent that we would lower the quality of a production for it? Are these the shows we want to pay tickets for?

Yesterday evening as I peeled off my training clothes, I glanced at my own body in the mirror. And so began the routine dance of acceptance, as I twisted and contorted my body this way and that, examining it for changes or new appearances. Ten years ago, I did the very same thing as an insecure teenager; scrutinizing my body for fat or unwanted layers of skin. Ten years on, my eyes look now more for positive change rather than negative. Where as an adolescent I scolded myself for not staying the same, I now embrace my changing body. I don’t have a ‘perfect’ physicality. But it’s a physicality that allows me the flexibility and strength that I need to facilitate the dancing and performing that I love.

My arms are not as ballerina thin as they were when I graduated from dancing college. But they are now strong enough to lift me high into the air on circus apparatus. My thighs are thicker, mostly with hard worked for muscle but admittedly with a little fat also. The very fat that I used to fight against, but now recognize as an integral part of my body make-up. This doesn’t mean that I leap for joy every time I see myself without clothing, or that I don’t see the same flaws we all suffer on occasion. But it does mean I have less interest in bullying myself for those flaws. In short, I don’t want to skip meals to chase bones any longer.

Recently, Mattel released a new line of Barbie dolls that are varying in body shape and skin colour. It’s only taken them 57 years to do it! But well done to them, for finally making such a monumental step forwards in positively re-educating our social media ‘perfection’ soaked head spaces. I absolutely advocate living in a way that brings good health and fitness to our lives and our bodies, to strengthen our days here. But this move from Mattel brilliantly identifies that a healthy body (or even an accepted one) doesn’t have to be a uniform size or shape. Now we’re just waiting on Ken doll to join the reality check in!

Go ahead and have fun with how you look. Don’t be afraid to try out new fabrics, whether they are the ones you decorate your body with, or that are the materials of how you think. Underneath, we are all made up of bones and ideas. Have fun filling out the coverings of each of these bones, and every one of your ideas. You aren’t a Barbie doll after all, and thank goodness! You’re you. That’s more than enough.

Here’s to your physical liberté! Enjoy every moment, muscle and thread of it.

Yours truly,

Helen Victoria.
#liberté #journeytolibertys #freedomblogger

A New York State of Sound

This past summer, I spent almost 3 months in New York City. I travelled alone, making it an adventure of independence. It was about taking a little time to myself to work out my next plans and current thoughts. My aims were simple; to dance, to write, to discover, and to challenge myself to really be alone for the first time in years. With some modelling thrown in to pay my New York rent!

Before I left for the states, I contacted around 40 different yoga studios in New York City, enquiring if they had any opportunities for work/study students. 3 replied to me, and 1 of those replies was filled with kindness and open welcome. A week later, I found myself sitting barefoot in the reception area of Sacred Sounds Yoga Studio on Bleecker Street, being warmly accepted into the beautiful sunlit studio space by the incredible and altogether humble owner, Stephanie Tang. 

After telling Stephanie a little about myself and this story, Stephanie grinned at me in the pure way only she can and asked nothing more of me than to volunteer my time on a Saturday in exchange for a full program of yoga classes. I happily accepted, and so began a summer of daily classes and solo yoga discovery - accompanied by some incredible new friends within the studio!

Still now, I listen to the music played at the studio to bring back my centre of gravity. Still now I wake up early to practice the yoga sequences I was taught. Every day I carry with me the lessons I learnt on the mat and in the company of the other students and staff there. For this, to Stephanie, and to all who I met at Sacred Sounds in the summer of 2015, I am immensely grateful. 

And so, making a little change from my usual blog style of writing, I will share with you a piece of poetry that I hope will express a little of my time within those sacred New York walls. It's official. The Liberty's Arts & Wellness Studio has a role model for it's future! 

'Dedicated to Stephanie, and every teacher, friend and colleague at Sacred Sounds Yoga Studio, NYC'.

SACRED SOUNDS

-This Now.

Dropping sounds.

Bated breath.

A distant, ‘Hallelujah’.

Pause my blood, as we realign each compass.

Curled toes relent from fixedness,

as soles find floor and soul finds core.

I capture breath into the lowest corners,

And exhale.

Muscles break from solitude, as they mesh and warm to one another in earnest.

Creaking bones, cracking joints, divided thought.

Inhaling the scent of my flesh as it heats.

Flow through and around me now,

I  A M  R E A D Y.

Let us be lost, to find.

To be blinded in order to discover.

Take our moments and stir them into the illusion of time.

For we are open now, united.

Below skin’s surface lie gentle waves of energy.

I trace their outline respectfully, as they stir and shift in their beds.

With each touch, each sacred sound, I discover the soaring and the fallen.

Close the history books now.

Stop this train.

Let’s alight from it’s aching carriages and walk a while together.

Take my hand, for I will hold the centre of yours eternally.

No fear, lies here.

Weightlessness brings no danger to this forward journey.

For love was never the answer.

It was our cause.

Namaste

I’m living happily ever after. So why can’t I breathe?

Yesterday I had one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Then, immediately after, I forgot how to breathe. 

Let me explain.

Yesterday morning I found myself emerging from the subway at the seemingly ludicrous hour of 6.a.m! I was booked for a lovely ballet photo-shoot in the heart of New York’s Central Park. The shoot was classically minded, placing technical ballet in front of the green backdrop scenes of Central Park in morning light. At these early hours the park was gloriously near deserted and as equipment and cameras were set up, the sun began to heat the park as it’s light broke over us. I began to limber, bathing in the warmth of it all. 

So began the creative process of sharing work with Edwin Alvarado, my incredible photographer. It quickly became clear that this was one of those incredible moments when two like minds unite in a creative working situation. Before long, I was balancing in an arabesque on the edge of a fountain, as Edwin leapt around me photographing each shape and silhouette.

Around halfway through our shoot a young gentleman cycled up, dismounted, and opened up an instrument case. Without a word, only a politely acknowledging smile, he began his day of playing the most beautiful violin playing I have heard for a very long time. This man, unassuming and gentle, filled the space with delicate notes. It was all the music I could ever need to feed my dancing mind and muscles. Our duo collaboration became a trio!

Lost in music, and encouraged to just keeping moving freely by Edwin, I started to improvise in the space, blended with past ballet choreography as it came to me. I obligingly followed the rise and fall of our new accomplice’s music, allowing it to flood and lead me. I stopped noticing the flash of the camera. I danced without inhibition and with fervor. I finally halted to find a crowd of curious tourists filming us! It was honestly one of the most incredible moments of my dancing life.

After we had finished the shoot and I had bid farewell to the wonderful Edwin, I half walked and half skipped my way down the steps of the subway station. As I floated between stations on my way across the city, I smiled to myself, trying to recall the moments just passed.

Then, I hyperventilated. In the middle of 14^th Street subway station, I choked on oxygen, and lost the ability to exhale. Only an hour or so after feeling like my lungs were my wings, suddenly I couldn’t manage to make them operate.

I do not suffer with fear of many things, as you might decipher from my living patterns and movements. I do not fret over solo foreign travel or plans changing unexpectedly. I have no problem with social situations or being entirely alone. Despite all of this I can admit that at the age of 27, I have battled anxiety for ten years.

Why have I never written about it before? Because I felt ashamed of it, and because I have gotten so good at hiding it. Performers have a tendency of doing that, being able to do so very convincingly as proven historically. Truthfully, it does not affect me often anymore. After a period of it becoming very acute during one period of my life, it has otherwise been a controllable creature within me for the most part. But every now and again it makes an unwelcome appearance, boldly unfazed by my very apparent rejection of its presence.

This tale may seem confusing, and be assured that I quite agree! It's nonsensical that such a happy and successful morning of creative endeavor could be followed by the grip of something as destructive as a panic attack. How do the two connect?

When I am freed to express myself I allow my mind and body to completely let go both emotionally and artistically. This can lead to a release of adrenaline and a cognitive liberation that can potentially lead to feelings of anxiety and panic afterwards. Comparable to a come down from inebriation, it can be the tiny crack in the door in my mind and body for anxiety to throw itself through.

Anxiety is a nasty and vicious animal that sucks the energy from your body and the calm from the most settled of minds. It takes no hostages and manifests itself in varying forms and formats. But essentially, a panic attack is just a heightened or extended version of any time you have felt nervous, had a feeling of fight or flight, or a tremor of uncertainty. We have all felt this – we are human! But for some, these feelings can spiral out of control leading to a panic attack.

I have steadily worked for the past ten years to be able to harness these feelings when they start to arise, so that I can ‘put out the light of a match rather than attempting to put out a housefire’ as it was once described to me! I personally have chosen not to take medication for it - I want to be able to heal myself naturally. I acknowledge entirely that medication can be literally life saving for some. For me, my yoga experiences now have been key to relearning how to control my breathing and to clear my mind. Everyone has their path.

I really am living my happily ever after. I wake up daily to a life I could never have dreamt of having previously! For this, I am astonished and daily grateful. But nothing and no one is perfect. We all come with our idiosyncrasies and personal stories.  We are the result of our past lives and the formulae of our futures. And long we may celebrate every story and every difference!

I have routinely looked back my times of anxiety with feelings of shame. My own vulnerability embarrassed me. But I feel now that my viewpoint has changed. I choose instead to feel grateful and altogether amazed at what potential kindness lays all around us! The kindness of strangers, and the love of the people we live alongside never ceases to amaze me. 

I am very happy! I am a dancing yoga hippy with a passionate soul and a keen writing hand. I love eating, laughing and sharing life with whomever I meet. But every now and then, I suffer at the hands of anxiety. Most days, I sit cross legged atop of it, halting it from interfering too much with my life. Yesterday? It got away from my control. But it had it’s time. And now I sit back atop of it, ever the stronger for having defeated it one more time.

We’re all doing our best. I know you are. And for the days when it all gets a little breathless, one day there will be a place of liberty and wellness, where we can work together on our lungs minds and stories, as we work through our fights and flights. 

Dedicated to anyone who has ever struggled to get the words out, and to all those who have helped me along my way to finding mine.

H E L E N  V I C T O R I A  
#liberté

Summer Movement

 I am in a small studio apartment in Queens that is decorated with the greenest bamboo, the brightest white walls, and the most intricate decorations from all over the world. The room belongs to my Peruvian/Egyptian/American roommate who has so kindly rented the room to me during my time here in New York. I am back in New York!

Readers may remember that I was here last year, whilst performing with the Vazquez show tour. We were here for 11 weeks, performing every night and exploring each day. The difference being this time - the city has heated up! The crisp winter weather has been replaced by long, hot summer days. Although I did adore the romantic winter

version of this city, I am more in love than ever this second time around. This second date with New York has brought beaches, hours spent wandering the streets as they begin to cool each evening, and adventures to find new and undiscovered corners.

To explain; unfortunately a recent venture to Malta to take up a dancing contract did not turn out quite as it should have. The company was sadly very unprofessional and there was a serious case of exploitation of the dancers. I made the decision to leave Malta behind, despite the island’s beauty and the attraction of dancing in such a lovely show. I withdrew from the situation and left several ‘Liberty’s business cards in the dirty apartment I was leaving – just in case any of the management or company ever need to find their own freedom one day.

I am grateful to the experience, for giving me an opportunity to challenge my true commitment to our cause. Leaving meant coming away from security, but it also implicated moving on from a situation that would have been emotionally, artistically and professionally limiting. I have since reported the company to authorities, and several other dancers have followed suit and left the situation. But it shouldn’t be this way. Ever.

And so, I walked back into my home environment without a job, plan, or structure! And so, I drew up fresh plans. I made a list of the places in the world that made me happy, another list of the things I would like to do to make me happy, and then a quick financial calculation. The results were that I would like to live, love and dance in New York for as long as I can! I am limited somewhat on funds, but worked out that if I could gain some kind of internship at a dance and/or yoga school then I could receive free training, which would mean I would only need an inexpensive place to stay and a little food money. A quick SkyScanner flight search, some circus contacts networking and rapid eBay selling later - and here I am.

I emailed all 26 yoga schools existing in New York City. 5 replied, 1 of which offered me an immediate interview. And so last Monday, 2 days after I flew into the city, I found myself standing outside Sacred Sounds Yoga Studios. I walked in, and up the stairs, to find a shoe rack. Obligingly, I removed my shoes. And then I met Stephanie.

Stephanie is the founder and owner of Sacred Sounds. She opened the studios in 2011, as a place for anyone who needs to heal in any form to come to use the space to do so, whether physical, or emotional. She filled me in on many details about the studio and it’s history and philosophies, and as her words floated through me, I felt a sensation of change tremble through me. 

Sacred Sounds has established what I have been building towards in so many ways - it is a true place of liberté. It is a yoga centered place of healing, wellness and movement. It is what we have been moving towards in our collaborative journey towards the doors of Liberty’s Arts & Wellness Centre.

I spent the rest of that afternoon and the days since attending dance training classes at Broadway Dance Center, going to a rooftop modeling casting, walking over Brooklyn Bridge, exploring beautiful corners of the city, and making new connections. I have filled notebooks, sung at a Mexican karaoke in guessing Spanish, and eaten huge watermelon slices while sitting in the green pastures of Central Park. I have listened to the sounds of the summer bands in Union Square, worked as a model for a photographer, and continued to work on my London freelance writing work from various organic and eco inspired coffee shops. Throughout it all, my initial experience of Sacred Sounds has not left me for a moment. 

We are never alone. Whether living in a city of millions, or hiking across skyline mountains (I recently discovered the literary pleasure that is ‘Wild’ – which I would highly recommend!) or whether we are in our own home environments. Whatever challenges we face or how we choose to challenge ourselves, we are united in liberté. No employment,  living situation or human can strip away who we are at our core, unless we allow this to happen. The process of this past month has all the more confirmed this for me, on our journey forwards. 

Where are you spending your summer this year? I would love to hear where you are, and what you are occupying yourselves with! Feedback and e-mails are always so welcome. For now, I am going to close my Macbook from the spot I am now sitting in, and go for a 3 mile walk from one end of Central Park to the other. The photo below is exactly where I am right now, as I type. 

Walk with me a while?

Helen Victoria.