Artistic Struggle

I’ve been thinking of new things to put on paper but I forget everything. I just moved to Ohio which has been causing stress and my depression is coming back in waves. I want to create but I don’t feel motivated or 100% in my own mind. I put one day aside to draw and something happened. Still not content with that aspect of my life. Is that what being an artist is?

Looking Back pt. 1

Almost everything has changed since I started dancing.  Do you ever look back at yourself in High school and cringe a little?  Relatable.  I try not to look back at the old, baby shiva; How I used to talk, walk, drink, dress, and most importantly dance.

I wore regular strap-up heels for the first two weeks, and I wouldn’t believe any of the other dancers when they told me dancer heels are 200% more comfortable. Those were my first shoes and I was walking tall, never mind the deformities they gave my feet, and that my legs looked like sausages by halftime of my shift. I am one of the dancers that nags others into investing in Pleasers. Now I can barely wear heels unless they’re several inches with a large platform.  How did I ever do that? Adrenaline? Pussy Power? Hope for more money? We were making a ton of money… which to this day doesn’t make much sense for every new girl to make bank stumbling around being sweet to everyone, smiling and making eye contact with men every which way. I’ll get back to this.

I started dancing with my friend kitty who moved to Florida shortly after I did. She and I would only go up on stage together and try to fling our bodies around on a pole/ shake our asses on all fours (which we had been practicing for a couple of weeks before we started dancing).  I can’t fucking stand when two girls have to go on stage together, come on. I do try to give the benefit of the doubt for the first week or so usually, though.  Now, considering that we just started dancing for IKEA money, I tell myself to spare the image of Kitty and I practically seizing out on the floor of the stage. We didn’t mean any harm which is more than I can say for some new girls I meet.

Yes, IKEA money and we would go back to waitressing… who ever thought that out?  We both would walk out with at least 600 dollars a night for the first few weeks. Why would we ever go back to waitressing? Dancing was the absolute shit, I got drunk on the job, danced on a rotation of about 10 other girls, got paid 25 dollars per private dance lasting 3.5 minutes, and got to hang out with other hot-ass girls all night. That starter- stripper glow never made sense to me; it’s a known fact that new dancers make more money.  Maybe its because they’re not jaded yet, or maybe its because there is a dark side to dancing and they just haven’t seen it yet.

To be continued

~shiva