Sometimes, Lauren thinks

I work, and I write, and then I work some more, and then I write some more.

And then, sometimes, I think.

What I mean is, life is go, go, go, all the time and if you’re an artist of any kind this can be a bit problematic when if comes to making work that’s…. well….. good.

You might go to a coffee shop and see that one guy that stares intensely into his cup, or you might come across three hipsters in an alley talking about vortices, and vice, and puppies.

“Pftshaw. Artists”

You say under your breath.

Those moments and those conversations aren’t idle time.  Those people aren’t lazy.  This stuff is extremely important, and I’m thinking that really you are just jealous.

I know I am.

Instead of staring at my coffee or meeting up with guys in skinny jeans in alleys, I usually think by writing.  I don’t mean so much writing articles but rather stream-of-consciousness type free writing.  Well, and I also take baths.  Those two things help me digest the art that’s happening in my life (whether it be made by me or anyone else).  They help me to understand: what do I REALLY think about _____, or, what is my next step in this phrase or this piece or this life.

So that’s what I’m going try to do here…

After decompressing a bit from Refill, I find myself at a bit of an artistic pause before getting hot and heavy into the planning of a second season of Produce.  The funny thing is, if I look back on my year it’s kind of a blur.  Without my knowing, it turned out to be a “season” of sorts.  Two fully produced performances, a festival appearance, and a curated series.  That’s a far cry from what I was doing two years ago… which was nothing.  I feel a little bit like I got on the right train at the right time, and now I can’t get off.

So what exactly is this thing, and where is it going?

There are full on dance companies that don’t take on this many projects, but I’ve always insisted that I don’t have a dance company; I don’t want a dance company; I like doing just “projects”.

At what point are you doing enough consistent projects that you might as well have a dance company?  Does calling this thing my “dance company” somehow legitimize the work or the dancers or the collaborators?  Does it give me responsibilities beyond that project to continually and consistently provide these people with work?

Instead of just reveling in my post-show glory, these are the questions I ponder.

But maybe it doesn’t really matter what this thing is or where it’s going.  The way I figure it, as long as we’re all still inspired and having a good time, let’s go for it.

Author: Lauren Warnecke

Lauren Warnecke is a reporter for NPR affiliate station WGLT and freelance arts and culture critic, primarily reviewing dance for the Chicago Tribune. Lauren enjoys cooking, cycling and attempting to grow things in her backyard. She lives in central Illinois.