Nine weeks ago, I dislocated my kneecap. Before you jump to conclusions, this did not happen on the pole. This happened doing a lunge. Yes, you read that right, a LUNGE on the floor. It was severe enough for the studio to call an ambulance, and for me to be in crutches for supposedly six weeks. Six weeks of no pole, you’ve got to be joking. Not when I had my first performance in fifteen years, only seven days away. Fuck your six weeks… I’ve got a showcase to do.
The Phoenix has always represented a transformation or a new chapter in my life.
I painted this in January when I was facing the transition from feeling rejected and afraid to slowing learning to balance on my own legs; not quite ready to walk at that point. I felt paralysed and scared to breathe or even make a simple decision like what to eat for dinner. I felt pressured by my past self who was always decisive and lost all hope of regaining what I had lost. I was so very broken. So, I decided to paint this, figuratively burn myself and rise from the ashes of my past, born anew. Shortly after, I started pole training and I am an entirely different person now.
I’m so grateful for the ability to channel what I feel creatively and be able to share it with everyone.