8 years ago I got my first teaching job Tantra Fitness, I was 2 years into my burlesque career and so nervous to start translating what I did naturally / self-taught into a curriculum for others to start learning from. I never had any burlesque training, in those days, like the days before me, it was extremely DIY, Youtube didn’t even exist yet. (I know, 10 years is not that long ago, but in the digital age, it is!). All I had was experience and stage chops, rehearsals and peer reviews, what I had seen others do on stage and what I had read in books or what people had told me. Ultimately, I / we made it up. These days you can take burlesque classes from instructors who have never done burlesque but might know concepts of it. They might have seen a show or know because they have sexy dance moves that it can be called “Burlesque”, but ultimately it’s borrowed from those that do it authentically, artistically and as a career. The ones that live the art of the tease and the strip. Parallel to our Exotic Dance sisters, it is a new medium to teach and therefore there is not many standards or pre-set curriculums. I’ve often had woman say they have taken a burlesque class, but it’s not “what I do on stage”, meaning it is a sexy dance class, perhaps referencing our industry or perhaps not. I think the more sass the merrier, but know your roots!
~ note ~
Although we all love boobs, some of you may be at work. At the end of this post is a set of nude photos that may not be conducive to your current environment.
~ end note ~
There is a danger to the word sexy.
It’s like a preloaded gun that someone handed to you to use but you didn’t ask for it in the first place. But here you are, finger on the trigger, pointing at a target and hoping you hit the bull’s eye.
Sexy is subjective. Sexy is preordained. Sexy is a myth. Sexy is as individual as each person, and yet it is commodified and sold as something standard and commercial – something unattainable. No wonder women rebel against it – or long for it so intensely. We shy away from this human right of feeling sexual because we do not feel sexy. Their kind of sexy. If we look to the mainstream to give us clues on how to be a woman and how to be sexy, we are losing a game that was never meant to be won.
I am indeed a wealthy woman. One who can bankroll a heart, can shell out mad abundance and front the bill on kindness. My currency is love and I have very deep pockets. As wealthy as I am there is also a great debt that I carry: the debt of gratitude. This debt is not heavy like a sack of carbon blocks slung over your shoulder bogging you down; repressive. This is a weightless wonderment, a renewable resource. It exists everywhere and is begging to be claimed; cultivated.
…neither. I am a woman. Let me ask you this – does it matter?
I was indeed born, raised and am presently living as a woman.
Yet I get asked this question from men and woman alike.
About once a month.
I have many Lovers and one Mistress. The Stage and I are in a very intimate relationship you see; she is my one true Mistress. The one I sneak off to at night to dance upon, crawl across and radiate from. She accepts that she is not with me all day everyday and understands my need for many Lovers. She also enjoys when I bring my Lovers to visit her, because there can not be one with out the other. Music is the magic that makes my voyeuristic threesome with the stage complete. Music is what I make love to everyday – morning, noon and night. It is the essential life force that flows through my body, awakening every spark available. Music gives new life, insight, and breath into my body. It has become part of how I communicate, how I translate my emotions and how I connect with my audiences. Music is how I seduce the world.
Everyday is different and calls for a special kind of love sometimes several times a day…
Is there ever a day that goes by when we are not listening to music? That any mood cannot be complemented by the vibrations pulsing from speakers in to us, through us, beyond us?
Let’s explore shall we? Cue the phonograph –
It can be a slow and intentional romp – one so deep and delicious that the sounds are practically holding me up as I swoon in it’s arms, succumbing to it’s charms while it brings me softly to the floor – begging for more.
There is something magical about the season of Summer. Perhaps because it comes and goes so quickly in Vancouver that we really feel the need to grab it and hold it against to our hot, sweaty, shiny bodies. Who in their right mind would not love a season where the clothes are few, smiles are big, eyes are hazy, days last forever and the mornings are bright and full of life.
It’s the perfect time of year to connect with nature, your friends, your friend in nature, or on your friends in nature. We walk slower, eat lighter, swim naked and have an enhanced libido from all the glorious exposed flesh. When the sun comes out I always think more people are getting tattoos, but in truth, they are just wearing less clothing.
It’s the perfect time of year for a little romance, one that might turn into the perfect winter snuggle buddy, but no pressure. It’s Summer time let’s just enjoy, baby. We are indulging in sweet evening breezes that tickle sun kissed skin while lingering at the beach until dusk. We watch the great ball of fire set behind the ocean, to the symphony of the city livening up for an evening. Warmed to the core, our hungry eyes are always looking for more…
We can take pleasure in the simple things like a cool shower after the beach, a see through dress, not having to wear a bra and being able to check out anyone we choose behind our big, black sunglasses. The only thing giving you away is the arched eyebrow peeking over the top, and your posture getting a little straighter. For me it’s a little less subtle – with full head turns, a once over and an audible sigh of contentment. Man or woman, no one is safe from the appreciating eyes and my Frosty glances.
I do hope your Summer is treating you well Lovers, if you see me, come give me a warm almost too long hug and tell me about your adventures thus far. Tame or salacious I want to hear them all.
Melody Mangler and I on an intimate Friday afternoon. Shot by the amazing Brice Ferre for his My Song project.