“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark. In the hopeless swamps of the not quite, the not yet, and the not at all, do not let the hero in your soul perish and leave only frustration for the life you deserved, but never have been able to reach. The world you desire can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours.”  – Ayn Rand, from Atlas Shrugged

Some people have questioned why I am a fan, of sorts, of Ayn Rand, particularly as her philosophies have been hijacked by people calling themselves members of the modern-day “Tea Party” movement. (Her political and economic policies advocate laissez faire capitalism, which, I think if there were no greed on this Earth, might be able to work.  In this world, alas, greed is everywhere, as well as people and organizations to seek to take advantage and harm others.)

Well. Her fiction calls on the power of the individual to follow his/her calling according to his ability, which lies within his/her competence and knowledge.  Her heroes are strong, empowered individuals who fight against collectivism, the naysaying of trends and the masses, the mediocre and the apathetic.  Her heroes strive for knowledge; they ignore those who tell them what they’re doing isn’t “acceptable”.  They march to the sound of their own drum.  Her philosophy also advocates that one must not harm another in their pursuit of their vision.  To harm another means to mooch off of them; to have a victim means that you’re taking from that victim and not working on your own accord.  This aspect of her philosophy appeals to me very much.  Work hard, make money doing what you do best, and don’t harm others in the process.  Sounds like a good way to live, yeah?

If you know anything about me at all, you’ll see why these stories have inspired me so much.  My tattoo, the star in the circle, is not only a derivation of a logo used by the band Rush, but also a visual manifestation of these ideals.  The band’s drummer created the symbol to represent the masses, the collective, the mediocre, the naysayers – I put it on my back to remind me that I have a duty to myself to push ahead on my own, regardless of whatever obstacles come before me.  I am my own leader, and I will follow my vision.

What you might not know about me is that this summer I have been facing a bit of an identity crisis.  The Asharah that you might hire to teach and perform in your city or at your festival is probably the Asharah of two years ago.  Angry and dark, and fighting.  But that Asharah has changed into someone softer, more delicate, and less discontent with the world.  What happens when you hire the Asharah two years ago and gets the Asharah today?  Do you appreciate the Asharah who is in your city now, or do you lament the fact that “she’s not what she used to be”?

At the end of the day, I am a belly dancer.  And within the genre of belly dance are a multitude of influences, styles, music choices, and costuming choices that I want to feel that I can explore and perform.  I want to feel free to change, evolve, morph, and experiment.

Like a rock band who has changed throughout the decades, playing different sounds, and eschewing popular trends, I want to feel as though I can follow my artistic convictions without being called a sell-out, or without my audiences thinking that I have betrayed them.

For if you are a true fan of an artist, you will change with them.  You will accept their evolution.  You will learn to appreciate and love their artistic explorations.  The Beatles of the early 1960s were not the Beatles of the late 1960s, but that does not negate the fact that I find all of their music entertaining and solid.  And of course my favorite band, Rush, sounds so different today than they did in the 1970s… and yet I love all of their work, partially because they have allowed themselves to change and mature.  (Not that I think that I am nearly as popular and amazing as the Beatles or Rush… far from it!  But hopefully you get what I’m talking about…)

I would like to state for the record that I do not consider myself only a “fusion belly dance artist.”  At the end of the day, I am a belly dancer.

Behind me I have years of training in oriental and tribal styles of belly dance.  If I choose to dance to oriental music, or a belly dance drum solo, don’t accuse me of “going cabaret.”  I have not “gone cabaret”; if you look beyond my costuming, you’ll see that I’ve always been cabaret (probably more cabaret than tribal, really) and I have always blended styles to create what I want to be.  I want to dance in a way that comes the most naturally and organically to me.  What comes most naturally to me will change from year to year, as it should.  A true artist is never satisfied with their current state.  As Bob Dylan said (he’s another artist who changed through the years), “He not busy being born is busy dying.”  So true, so true.

I refuse to be stuck in a box, or to keep myself in a box.  I draw inspiration from so many sources, so many dancers, so many artists, and so many musicians, and I want to feel free to pull from all of them when performing.  To call me a “gothic belly dancer” or a “tribal fusion belly dancer” is to confine me within a certain paradigm, a certain expectation.  And I don’t want to feel like I must live up to anyone’s expectation of who I am as an artist.

And… at the end of the day, I ask for you, dear readers, to do the same.  Feel free to change and morph and evolve… because that is how great art is made.

I pride myself on the fact that I have “made it”, so to speak, on my own, and through the generosity of friends and contacts who saw something in me and my art worth promoting.

I have struggled to be myself, my own dancer, blazing my own path without schmoozing, kissing anyone’s ass, or trying to copy anyone else’s style or look. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been tempted to ask to be part of a festival or show when I thought I might have been overlooked, to join something that would bring me greater visibility in the dance community, or to change my costuming or music just to be noticed… but to do might have meant working with people who I find unsavory, sacrificing a part of my individuality, and ultimately violating my sense of integrity and my fundamental instinctual need to create to honest art.

I never compromised my art to be more well-known. I never once sold out.

I believe that I am doing this the hard way. I am not a member of a famous dance troupe. I don’t have a gimmick. I choose music that moves me tremendously but often annoys the crap out of other people. I have not tried to rub shoulders with famous dancers just to be noticed. I am not a squeaky wheel. I have worked dance and art in between a full-time job, a loving husband, and my family. I have damaged my body, fighting exhaustion and rehabilitating from injuries. I have cracked my emotional calm over and over again, facing the darkest parts of my psyche, my frustrations, my expectations, and most of all my fear. I haven’t expected opportunities to be handed to me. I do not expect favors. I am unflinchingly alone in my artistic journey, and I am fiercely proud of it.

I have chosen to quietly perfect my technique, to focus on training and conditioning, to build on my artistic convictions, and to be me at all costs.

When I decided to pay less attention to the opportunities that others had, and more attention to my own progress as an artist, that’s when the opportunities started knocking at my door. WorldDanceNewYork asked me to produce a DVD. Marta Vizueta recommended me to teach at DC’s largest non-profit dance studio, Joy of Motion, and they hired me. Saphira asked me to join the faculty at her studio, Saffron Dance in Arlington, Virginia, which after only two years of business has already won “Best New Business” and “Best Place to Work Out” awards for the city of Arlington. Festival promoters around the world have asked me to teach, to perform, and to be a part of their events. And a few years before that, several of my fellow dancers suggested me to WorldDanceNewYork to appear on the first Gothic Bellydance DVD.

I never asked for any of it. But I am so thankful for every producer, dancer, artist, and friend who has offered me a gig, a teaching position, a performance slot, a positive DVD review, a fan e-mail, or a compliment. I have discovered that true gratitude goes a long way, and that, at least in the dance world, karma happens. And I believe that the dancers who stay true to themselves, and who stay humble throughout their careers are the ones who ultimately succeed.

Being true to yourself isn’t easy. It’s perhaps the hardest thing an artist can do. But the rewards are worth the struggle.

This is my statement of purpose… to remain true to my convictions, to never compromise my art to make myself more appealing or popular, to continue to grow and learn and seek knowledge from my mentors and colleagues both in and out of the dance world, and to be an example for dancers who are seeking their own artistic path.

If you had to, right this moment, right your own statement of purpose for 2009, on what would you focus?