Last Saturday night I danced for my first ever music video.
There were four costume changes, and I danced twice or three times to the track for each costume change.
The track is called Forget the Morning, by M45 Music, a new collective with a clear vision and plan to record an EP, tour, build an audience, and Do the Band Thing.
My role in the music video was that girl – the one who’s ‘on fire’, the object of desire in the song.
She’s being admired, checked out, and enjoyed – lusted after even. We see her in her glory, and we see her response to being seen.
I’ve long had this thing about NOT using my sexuality to attract a man, and so it’s very rare that I ever get to play with this kind of dynamic.
Plus I have a convoluted history with the male gaze, and being perceived as an object of desire.
I hated it as a pre-teen, teenager and young woman, and actively fought against being type-cast into that role when I was working hospitality, out on the town, or doing modelling gigs.
I detested those promo roles that paid way less than print or commercial work, and required me to show up in a product outfit and give out samples while making nice with men.
These kind of promo roles usually happened at events, usually with alcohol, usually at night.
I detested the projections, the expectations and the assumptions flung my way by the hordes of (often drunk) men.
I hated that the job required me to pretend a certain availability in order to lure the men into the product on offer – at least, that’s what it felt like.
I honed an Ice Queen persona and used my intelligence and wit to constantly deflect, and to beat men at their own predatory game.
This music video offered me an opportunity to surrender into and thoroughly ENJOY playing the object of affection being seen, on my terms, in my way.
And f*ck it felt good.
I had a blast.
I finally had access to a part of myself that I had judged, shut away, shut down and dismissed.
Making the video was a reclamation of self.
It was art as a road to wholeness.
Plus I realised that all those years of dancing in the kitchen and making dance videos meant I was completely at ease dancing in front of the camera, over and over and over again.
I was able to easily take direction, and do what was required, even though my energy levels started flagging and my body started getting sore after about the eighth time through the track.
My passion for dancing, and being seen dancing, was bearing fruit. And my passion for pushing limits, particularly the physical limits of the body!
One of the hardest things about coming home from Canada in 2004 was that I no longer had anywhere to go out and dance.
Back in Whistler, I worked as a go-go dancer for nightclubs and big events (some world class) and I was out dancing 5 or 6 nights a week between professional gigs and private partying.
When that got cut off, it was like a source of life being cut off. But I refused to let the dancer in me die.
I cranked the music in my living room, and danced danced danced. I filmed and uploaded and found festivals and did whatever it took to feed that part of me.
And now there she is, not only making a music video but being offered a role in the band as The Dancer, which would require going on tour and putting together a stage show with the band.
Now that’s something I never would have seen coming!
Such are the threads of life, where my unwavering commitment to the dance means that it keeps shining through in my life, even when I’m at an age where the idea of becoming a professional dancer (one who is paid to dance) is almost preposterous.
You did what?
When?
Yes I did, yes I did indeed.
I don’t know yet if I’m going to say yes to the Band Dancer role, but I am seriously considering it.
If it fits in with my festival schedule… then it might just become a thing.
