I began this journey back in December. I signed up for Infusion, the introductory course at Butter & Filth. What I did not know was how much this course was going to test me, not only physically but emotionally as well. And yes, this is absolutely coming from someone who literally sells their naked ass on the internet. Trust me when I tell you this is not the same thing. Let me explain.
The Infusion Series is listed as an Introduction to the Erotic Self. This is less about learning fun pole tricks, although there is that as well, and more about an artistic discovery of the self through dance as an art form. There was a lot of personal growth that occurred during that three-week course, more than I even realized at the time. There was also a burst of creativity that I had been missing since childhood, and I am eternally grateful to have found that again.
I took eleven years of classical ballet. I also took tap, jazz, and pointe. These classes were formal and very strict. I learned a lot of technique and discipline during those early childhood years. I learned how to move with a group to create flow, to tell a story. I learned to coordinate and conform, which can be quite beautiful in its own right. However, dancing in a large class-style setting doesn’t give you the ability to connect with the artistic elements of dance in the same way that pole does.
Ballet is very much about perfection, which I always found to be an impossible task. I have broken most of my toes in my attempts to perform the moves for those end-of-year recitals. I would literally tape my toes together and just keep on going for the sake of the dance. This is not to say that it was all bad. I did love it once, and some days I do miss it. But the part that I think I missed the most was the simple joy of dancing, which I have found again at the pole.
On that stage it is just me, and it is me that is coming through in my dancing there. I listen to the music and I listen to my body, and I let it tell me what it wants to do rather than forcing myself into positions for the sake of some external definition of what beauty is. This feels freer. In a sense it feels like breaking free from a mold that had been placed on me as a child. I connect with my body in a way that feels more natural, even though some of those positions feel entirely unnatural to me right now. That is just a part of learning new things.
For my first official month as a studio member, I signed up for the Levitation Series Level 0. This is the class where we learn how to climb the pole (physical) and we learn how linearity shows up in our lives (emotional). The first day I climbed to the top of that pole, not once but twice. In one sense I was so fucking proud of myself. I had done something that I never actually thought I would be able to do. In that same breath I thought to myself, okay now what? I did the thing, so what happens next?
I began to question my need to accomplish that feat on the first day. What was I trying to achieve? Who was I trying to impress? In all honesty after two of these classes, I still don’t know the complete answer. Here is what I do know: I am not trying to impress anyone in that class. I adore my classmates and have the utmost respect for them and their journeys along this similar path. Some of them have become my friends. But I’m not there to show anybody up. Most of the time I’m caught up in my own head, not even paying attention to what they are doing. And at the end of the day, their opinion of me isn’t really any of my business.
I am still unclear as to where this is all going to take me, but very interested as it is quite the challenge. I came out of the first class covered in bruises and my right foot bleeding, all of this from those two climbs up to the top of the pole. I did it, but look what it cost me. I went into the second class with no skin in the game, literally my right foot had lost some skin in my downward slide back to the floor. The pole tore it right off. Just like in ballet, I bandaged myself up and went back in for more. What did I learn? How to climb to the top of the pole on the opposite side, which was challenging in its own right. I am not a switch hitter in any sense of the word.
Mad love, Jenna
