Aerial Silks- Better than Writing

Last year I published a dance book called Off Pointe for the performing arts series my publisher Orca Books puts out, Orca Limelights. The novel takes place at a dance camp and to write the book I used my many years of dance experience. Recently I came up with another idea for a performing arts book, but this time I have no experience with the art form. I want to write a book about aerial silks. 

 

 

 

I first saw silks performed in the 2006 lesbian film, The Gymnast, about a former gymnast who falls in love with aerials and her aerialist partner. Shortly after I saw the film, I saw a display of aerials performed in my local park. I took a brochure from teacher Erin Ball but didn't get myself organized to take a course until I realized my massage therapist co-taught with Erin. So a few months ago I started doing the best research I`ve ever done: a physically demanding course of aerial silks, with some practice on the lyra (a suspended hoop) as well.

 

 

Me, all twisted up in the silks.

Before I started the course, I thought I was in pretty good shape for a forty-something woman who has had a few kids. Now I know otherwise. Each week for the past couple of months I've attempted to climb the silks, hang upside, stretch myself into the splits, and complete other tasks that require phenomenal strength. I've taken to hanging from my husband's chin-up bar during the week to strengthen my arms and back. (I'm now able to hang for slightly longer than my original ten seconds.) 

 

 

 

 

 When I first started the course, I came home from each class and wrote copious notes to try and describe the new skills I learned. To do the butterfly, and the butterfly catcher you are suspended by your arms from the bar of the lyra and then you bring your legs up on the bar, with your shins pressing against the ropes and then shoot them out. I spent a lot of time re-reading my notes to see if I could make sense of my descriptions, if a reader could visualize the aerialist's actions. 

 

Now I'm at the point, where I don't care if I write a book about aerial silks because I'm far more interested in doing aerial silks. Each week I'm presented with another challenge that I can't master at first, that leaves me panting with exertion and my arm muscles vibrating. Most things I can't do at first, but with consistent effort, I can eventually conquer. This is exactly the right level of physical and mental challenge resulting in consistent payoff. 

 

 

 

Instructor Erin Ball of Kingston Circus Arts

I had no idea how excited I would be to master The Rebecca, or show off my splits, and don't even get me started about how proud I was the day I managed to climb to the top of the silk. (The trick is rosin, the sticky stuff you put on your hands to keep you from slipping down the silks.) Unlike writing, which involves endless waiting for rejection or acceptance letters, aerials class comes once a week. There's a whole list of skills I haven't mastered yet: double legs locks in the air, the Sail, the Cocoon, doing anything gracefully, but there's also endless classes to work toward these goals. 

 

 

 

For more information on aerial classes in Kingston, ON, please go to Kingston Circus Arts. And for a fun aerial video see Pink's 2010 Grammy performance. I know there are more skilled aerialist performances (think Cirque du Soleil) but I have a soft spot for anyone who can sing, spin in the air and get soaked at the same time.