Meet Pixie

People say to me:

“I wish I could do that!”

“You’re SO talented!”

“I would NEVER be able to get up on a stage and do what you do! I would be scared to DEATH!”

You can do it; you just have to let yourself. I’m not really very talented, I just have a pretty good ear for music and a decent sense of timing (thank you Mary Gordon’s School of Dance). And I am scared to death. Every time I step out onto a stage, or get up in front of my class to teach.

My parents like to tell the story of my first dance recital. I have no idea how old I was, I may have been 3 or 4. I don’t really remember too much of it except the band room that was the holding area. Evidently, I got scared, didn’t want to go on stage and hid in the bass drum case and from what I remember of the story; they had to go get Mom from the audience to get me out.

I have always been scared of everything and I still am. I hate to meet new people, go places I’ve never been and try new things yet, I constantly do it. I don’t like crowds let alone being in front of one and my hobby/second job is Burlesque. I loathe it when people point me out or stare at me but I have multiple tattoos, a funky hair cut with purple highlights, and I adore red lipstick.

Well, if you’re as afraid as you say you are, then why do you do it? I have to come clean. It’s all about the thrill. Some people like roller coasters, or haunted houses. Others like to jump off of perfectly stable buildings or out of perfectly good airplanes. I like to take my clothes off on stage. It’s the best high in the world. Better than any drug, and I’ve tried several.

When the music starts I’m standing in the wings either shimmying or jumping up and down, and waiting. I’m waiting for a split second of sheer terror to take over. In that split second I think, “oh shit, I’m about the throw up” and as suddenly as it comes, the terror throws me out onto the stage for the world to see. I can barely hear, I can barely see, and I can’t breathe. I can’t explain what takes over, but something takes me over completely and I some how manage to entertain people. The stopping place in the number comes and I blow a kiss and sign “I Love You” to show my gratitude to the people clapping and to my husband, and do the best I can to exit the stage gracefully (this usually ends up being me running off the stage trying not to look like I’m running for my life). As soon as the audience can’t see me I inhale and just about throw up. I heave like everything I’ve ever eaten is about to come out my body at warp speed. I try to find some place where no one else can see it happening but a lot of times it doesn’t work and fellow performers ask me if I’m okay to which I furiously nod “yes”. About 5 seconds after the heaving nonsense (oh, and in case you’re wondering, yes, I have actually thrown up. Twice.) is over I get this rush. It takes over my entire body and is the highest high I have ever achieved naturally or chemically and I have absolutely no words to describe it. It is utterly amazing.

So now you know my secret, I don’t perform for the love of the performing, for the art of it, because I love dance…I do it to get high.