Bristol's Badass Burlesque Show
There have been some wonderful, kind things written about me lately. People compare me to a whirlwind, because of the sparky energy I give off, both backstage and onstage. But let me tell you a secret about that energy. It’s only there because for two days before you saw me, I rested solidly. And I mean rested, I didn’t cook, brush my hair or have a shower. Because these everyday tasks, so normal for so many of you, are hard work for me. I choose to give up the everyday normality for the joy of performing. I would give up a thousand “normal” moments for just one moment onstage, shining brightly, entertaining people with the character I created.
There are a great many disabled performers out there, both in the burlesque and cabaret and more mainstream performance. Some of them are obvious, some of them are so well hidden as to be completely invisible. Every one of these performers inspire me. Diva Hollywood is one of the most open about her disability, and I draw strength from her, her strength and her professionalism.
Being a professional, now here’s a touchy subject. I will have you all know that in my five and a half years of performing, I have cancelled only twice due to ill health. I soldier on, through pain and fatigue, because I believe my illness should not stop me from stepping on that stage with a smile on my face, and stepping off it again a few moments later leaving the audience smiling too. Some of you have seen me backstage, dosing myself with five kinds of painkillers, sweating like a turkey at christmas, and grimacing like a church gargoyle. You have then witnessed me moments later stepping onto the stage with a spring in my step and a shimmy to my booty. Unfortunately, this has brought up some rather cruel accusations of “faking it,” although thankfully not from anybody who it would be worthwhile listening to. I’m here to tell you, I’m not faking it, I’m a PROFESSIONAL. I get shit done. If I signed a contract saying I would dance two numbers, then I will damn well dance two numbers, and I’ll be earning every penny of what I get paid.
I’m here to remind you, we are all precious, brittle creatures. No matter what you think you might see, you have no idea what is going on behind our smiles. Sometimes our costume is slipping, sometimes we’ve had arguments with our friends, and sometimes, we are in incredible pain.
We should all worship each other, our bodies, abled or disabled are precious things. My body happens to be slightly more broken than some others, but that does not stop me from walking on to a stage, shaking my ass and giving the audience the time of their life.
Dance on sisters. Dance on.