Boston For Memorial Day Weekend

Way back in March, my friend Kat and I started getting really anxious to see another one of our friends, Caitlin, again. The three of us had all been on Act 1 together for two years, but this season, I'm the only one still on the team. Kat lives outside of Boston, and we see each other quite a bit, but Caitlin lives a few hours away from me in Maine. We haven't all been together since 2017 TOI Nationals (almost a full year ago!). It was definitely time to plan something.

A few group texts later, and we finally decided to get together for Memorial Day weekend! Caitlin and I drove down to Kat's family's house on Friday night, stayed over, spent all of Saturday in Boston, and came home Sunday afternoon.

Friday night, we stayed in and spent some time catching up. We also made a drink run and ended up buying all of the pink drinks (PSA: the Cape Cod Cranberry Spiked Seltzer is amazing!) and ended up playing cards against humanity.

Saturday morning, we had a slow easy breakfast at home, then ventured into Boston. We made up a group of five: me, Kat, both of her sisters, Caroline and Elizabeth, and Caitlin. Our first stop was the Charles River Canoe and Kayak in Kendall Square. We rented their large canoe, and spent about an hour paddling around on the Charles. It was a really fun (and cheap!) way to start the day. We got to hear some of the Boston Calling Music Festival from the water, we joked that next year we should just rent the boats for a few hours and get to hear it that way!

Once we had completely sweated through our shirts, we returned the canoes and drove towards the Boylston Street and Copley area. We were all getting hungry at this point, so we ended up at Met Back Bay for a late lunch. Their patio seating was full, so we ate inside, and it was lovely! The food was amazing, and everything was cozy and conversational. I ordered their breakfast burrito, and I'm not sure I've ever had anything so perfect.

Once we were done eating, we went shopping! We went to Francesca's, where we spent most of our time. I ended up getting a really cute floral wrap dress. It's a little short, but I think it'll still be great for work and church, and I have a wedding in June I might wear it to. After Francesca's, we wandered into some more boutique type places before ending up at the Prudential Center. We pretty much just window shopped there, but it was still fun!

At that point, our group split up, and Kat, Caitlin, and I went out as the over 21's. We started at Back Bay Social Club, which was pretty good, and then eventually made our way down the street to a new-to-us place, Lir. We stayed there for the rest of the night, and it was a great chance to get a little goofy, catch up, and discover Iced Coffee cocktails (which are fantastic, by the way).

It was so fun to be out in the city the Saturday of Memorial Day. It was almost 90 out, and everyone was outside, hanging around watching soccer games and grabbing brunch. Between memorial day, the music festival, a ton of graduations, and the multiple weddings we passed, it felt like everyone was outside celebrating. Definitely a great day to kick off summer!

Sunday morning, we slept in and took our time pulling ourselves back together, before parting ways and driving home! It was so fun to be back with the ladies that share some of my favorite memories. We definitely can't wait a whole year before doing this again...we're already debating a Burlington VT/Montreal roadtrip this summer!

Hope everyone's Memorial Day was spent with good food, good people, and sunshine!

Happy Wednesday! Be the grittiest.

xoxo Gillian

Summer Afternoon in Boston & The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

A few weekends ago, I found myself with an afternoon to kill in Boston. I had rehearsal with AIT Boston until noon in the city, and then had practice with TOI Boston that night at 7. Commuting all the way home just to turn around and come back was out of the question, plus it was going to be a beautiful Boston Saturday afternoon, so I started brainstorming ways to use the time.

While on our hike, Kelsie came up with the great idea to check out a museum, and recommended I check out the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Now, for someone who's lived not even 2 hours from the city her entire life, I haven't actually done a lot of typical Boston things. Growing up, we'd always take trips to historic sites...but we usually ended up somewhere like Virginia, or Pennsylvania. We skipped a lot of the things that were closer to home.

Which means that now that I'm spending so much more time in the city, and am so much more comfortable navigating it, I want to take advantage and soak up all the amazing things Boston has to offer. I texted Caroline, one of my teammates, and we met up to check out the museum.

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum opened on January 1, 1903, on land that had been bought by Isabella herself for the purpose of creating the museum in 1898. Isabella, whose appreciation for art was spurred on by extensive travel and the intellectual scene in Boston, wanted to create a place for art to not only be hung but be appreciated, and made. Her personal collection, which the museum is drawn from, started with collecting rare manuscripts, particularly works from Dante, and kept growing, to include masterpieces like Vermeer's "The Concert" and Rembrandt's "Self-Portrait, Age 23".

In 1901, when the building was finished, Isabella moved into private living quarters on the fourth floor of the museum and began work personally arranging the museum. She remained intensely involved in her work, not only arranging the rooms but organizing performances, concerts, lectures, and inviting artists to take up residency there. When she died in 1924, she dedicated the museum to the "education and enjoyment of the public forever", only asking that nothing be moved, or re-arranged.

But in 1990, two thieves disguised as police officers broke into the museum early in the morning, and stole 13 works of art. The pieces that were taken, among them Vemeer's "The Concert, are worth over $500 million. It is the largest unsolved theft in history, and even today, 28 years later, authorities remain just as stumped as to their whereabouts. To remember the stolen works, and keep hope alive for their eventual return to the museum, empty frames remain hung in the places the paintings occupied.

I absolutely loved the museum. The original building (called "The Palace") has four floors, but is open in the middle, with a glass ceiling letting in natural light. A garden takes up the entire middle, which you can look down into from any of the four floors, and has elaborate tile walkways, arches, and fountains. The actual rooms are arranged to look less like a gallery, and more like an actual house, with scenes set up to showcase incredible rugs, or furniture, or tea services. One of my favorite rooms had a bunch of door-like wood panels hung to the wall, each covered in framed sketches and etchings, that you could move and work your way through.

Once we'd seen everything, the large stone archways offered a great place to sit and enjoy the garden. Caroline and I sat for a while and talked, since it had been a while since we'd really caught up. It's such a peaceful place; even though it was crowded, a calm hush blanketed everyone. I can see it being a beautiful place to sit and journal, or sketch (which the museum encourages!). We only spent a few hours there, and I definitely feel like it's the kind of place where you have to go a couple of times to really see everything.

We were going to check out the museum cafe, which looked really good, but they were closed by the time we were ready to eat. The museum is in Fenway, so we walked a little ways and came across a really cute restaurant named Tapestry. Not gonna lie, the main reason we chose it was because of the outdoor patio. This particular Saturday was one of the first super sunny, super warm afternoons of the year, so they had opened the patio early for drinks and pizza even though the rest of the kitchen wasn't open until later. We ordered the Mediterranean pizza (awesome cheese! But kind of soggy...), and waited until they opened for bar snacks and got the Greek nachos (which were awesome!). So we ate a whole pizza as our pre-bar-snack snack, haha. Tapestry is in a pretty quiet, residential area of Fenway, and it was so nice to sit outside, under the sun, and enjoy the breeze and each other's company. It was a wonderful way to kick of a season full of many more afternoon adventures with friends.

I'm in the city a couple of times a week, but it's always for work, or practice, or both. But, I enjoy spending my weekends in the rink (and even the commute) so much more when I take advantage of all the amazing things the city has to offer. Here's to searching for fun, instead of just driving right home.

Happy Thursday!! Be the grittiest.

xoxo Gillian

Hiking Mt. Moosilauke & A (Much Needed) Re-Set

Last Friday, the school that I work at was out for April Break. The call to get outside and get moving again has been ringing in my ears for a while now, and my friend Kelsie, who's also a para, felt the same way. So, we planned to meet up Friday morning and drive to Mt. Moosilauke in Benton, NH, for the first hike of 2018.

While I'd always gone hiking as a little kid, as I got older, work and school and skating always seemed to get in a way, and I found myself going a few ears without anything that qualified as a 'real' hike. Then last summer, I climbed Mt. Major with my mom, and was immediately hooked.

I couldn't believe how much fun hiking was. I had always known I enjoyed it, but the rush of peace, possibility, and achievement I felt with every single step blew my mind. After Mt. Major, I went on to do Mt. Tecumseh and Mt. Canon last summer, as well as multiple quick trips to smaller, local mountains. I decided that I would work my way through the 4000 Footers; NH's 48 mountains that reach an elevation of 4000+ feet.

My incredible friend Kelsie looking like she stepped out of a hiking magazine.

It felt so good to get back out to the mountains. Benton is pretty far north in NH, so Moosilauke still had snow cover the entire way up. We had no problem with ice (we both came prepared with spikes for our boots), but we did sink in a lot. We'd be walking along, laughing and not paying too much attention, and all of a sudden one foot would sink all the way through the snow, tripping us and leaving bruises up and down our legs. Some of the falls were hilarious--I sunk all the way up to my waist once!

Once you're a little more than half way up, you can really see the change in the tree line. Everything gets smaller, shrubbier, and mossier. Along the trail, there are a few really great spots to stop and appreciate the view. The cloudy weather made all the far off mountains look blue, and paired with the snow and the evergreen trees, it looked like a painting. The peak was really cool, because it's a bald top mountain. For the last portion of the trail, you're just hiking across rocks, with a 360 degree view. By the time we got the top, the cloudy skies we'd started out with had gotten even worse, so it was pretty foggy. The winds were crazy, some of them felt like they could knock me over, but they did keep the fog moving, so every couple of minutes the clouds would part and we could see the view.

The wind driving some of the fog away at the peak.

We stayed at the top for a little while to take some pictures, but it was easily 20 degrees cooler than just a little ways down the mountain, so we started our way back down pretty quickly. About a quarter of the way back down, we stopped for lunch, and then kept moving. The way down was so much quicker than the way up! Overall, I think the snow actually helped us gain time. The estimated time for the hike was a little over 6 hours, and we got back to our car after 5 hours and 50 minutes. But, the gate to the parking lot was closed, so we had a half-hour walk on the road in both directions to actually get to the trail-head. Subtract that from our time, and the fact that we stopped for lots of pictures and to eat lunch, and we made really good time!

On the hike, we talked about everything from work to dating to TV shows we watched as kids to our futures. A big idea we both commented on, though, was the wash of peace that came over both of us. When you're hiking, you have no where else to be. Nothing to run to next. It's just you, and a close friend, and the mountain. As you hike, life becomes more real. You're simultaneously impressed with the beauty around you, and the importance of appreciating every second we have in this world, while also realizing that so much of the crap we fill our daily lives with really doesn't matter. I had this epiphany on the way up that I wasn't put here to conform to what society's expectations of me are, or to spend my time worrying about making enough money, or doing the 'right' work, or getting to a certain place by a certain age. I'm allowed to explore. I'm allowed to do what works for me, and what makes me happy. I don't have to judge myself by anyone else's measure.

For me personally, hiking is about so much more than exercise, or even crossing peaks off of a list. It's a reality check, a brain re-set. The evening after, I feel so accomplished and invincible, and so much more ready to tackle life in a way that makes me happy.

Mount Moosilauke, Benton, NH.

Elevation: 4, 802 foot.

Trail: Gorge Brook Trail.

Gained Elevation: 2, 506 feet.

Date Completed: April 27, 2018.

If you find yourself with time to hike in NH, I'd totally recommend Moosilauke! It's a great winter hike, and I'm sure the bald top views are even prettier in the summer!

Happy Thursday! Be the grittiest.

xoxo Gillian 

PS-The trail we took, NH's 4000 Footers, some brief thoughts on hiking from summer 2017. 

On Moving Forward In The Face of Unknowns

Lately, I've been hit with an overwhelming feeling of uncertainty, restlessness, and anxiety over what the future's going to hold.

This past January, I finally got an opportunity that I've been chasing literally since I graduated high school. I feel like I can't talk about it too much (don't want to jinx it), but I auditioned for a professional ice show. I would literally get to do what I love, every single day, for my job. Leading up to it, I pulled out all of the stops. I trained harder, an even focused on working on some of my mental blocks, so I wouldn't crack under pressure.

As far as I am concerned, all of that hard work paid off. I left extremely proud of what I put out there, and confident that I had showed them not only my best self, but also an accurate portrayal of what they'd be getting should the hire me. Since I auditioned when the show was closest to me, back in January, it's been a very long wait since contracts aren't really out until late spring. For a while, I was fine. I felt good, I didn't panic. But lately? It's all I can think about. I have to actively resist the urge to email them every day, begging them to just hire me.

I am still waiting to hear back with a definitive yes or no. I've followed up, but was only told that they don't have an answer yet. Which is definitely better than being told no...but still. I'm getting very nervous.

I don't even know if I can describe how much I want this. It's literally the only thing I've know, for sure, that I wanted to do with my life. While touring itself would be an amazing opportunity, it would also open up so many doors for my life after I stop wanting to live on the road. This could set the stage for my whole career, and therefore my whole life (I understand I'm being very dramatic).

All of this unknown is making it extremely hard for me to focus and push myself this spring. I have so many ideas for different projects, but I just keep starting them and then getting overwhelmed, sad, and feeling some major impostor syndrome. This summer, I could either be starting an incredible journey of living on the road and skating for a living, or I could just be...here.What am I going to do if I'm still here? What if I end up repeating this exact same year over again?

I understand that this kind of emotional crisis is what every other 21 year-old experiences, and that I'm being dramatic. I understand that one audition doesn't make or break a career. I understand that if I just stay positive, and work hard, I will end up exactly where I'm supposed to be. But like, tell that to the butterflies in my stomach because they will not stop the anxiety attacks.

My big question is, since there's not much I can do about this state of unknown, how can I continue to move forward and make progress, so that I'm in a good place whether it's the best or worst case scenario? Instead of exclusively focusing on how to make myself more hire-able (because I've already put a lot of work there, and obsessing actually holds back my progress), what do I really want to see happen in my skating, work, life?

I know that I want to focus on longevity. I don't plan on quitting skating, even once I become 'too old' (no such thing). So with that in mind, I can afford to take a breath. I want to focus on learning everything I can about the sport, and improving some technique that I'm not happy with. This is going to take a lot of time. Working on my jump technique has already been at the forefront of my mind for over a year, and it's still got a ways to go. But really, there isn't a rush.

I want to challenge myself artistically. While competing with my TOI team is always a great creative boost, I also want to challenge myself to create more of my own stuff. I'm planning on choreographing my own Showcase program this year, and am performing with AIT-Boston this spring, which involves a lot of improv.

I want to be trained enough to pass two freestyle tests. There are 8 freestyle tests you can work towards passing through USFSA, and I've only got three left: Novice, Junior, and Senior. I really, really want to pass through Junior by July (if you follow me on Instagram, this is my 100 day project). No going around it, for that to happen I have to be putting everything towards training. I need more stamina. More fight to get all my jumps in. And frankly, I need to actually consistently land the required jumps, which I'm not always doing, even out of a program.

And finally, I want to write more. Writing has always been something I'm passionate about, and I've often toyed with the idea of figuring out how to pursue it professionally. But what would that look like? Could I dedicate enough time to it on top of skating and work? Could I ever make it full time? How do I write what I enjoy, not just pound out 1000 words for content mills?

I feel like more questions than answers. I'm terrified that I'll look back in 10 years at this time of my life, and realize I missed so many opportunities (maybe even the opportunity to enjoy this?). I'm so scared that I won't amount to anything, or, gasp, I'll just be an average person. I know myself well enough to know that this time next week I'll probably be happy and go-lucky, and believing the world is all possibility, but right now I just feel a little stuck. It's also raining today. Maybe I'll blame my mood on that.

But regardless of whether or not I feel like I'm moving forward correctly, I have to recognize that my life is and always will be progressing. I don't actually get to choose when, or to some extent how, I'm going to 'move forward'. Life just hands me a situation, and I have to figure out how to deal with.

So maybe, that is the action plan I so desperately want. Accept the situation that I've been given. Be grateful for how much progress I had to make to be in this situation. And then press on. Keep working. Keep experimenting. Take myself a little less seriously, but also take my ideas, my potential, a good deal more seriously.

Happy Thursday! Be the grittiest!

xoxo Gillian

Choose To Live The Bigger Life

Monday night after work, my mom and I drove 10 minutes from our house and took a brisk, 1 hour hike that led us up and around 3 small peaks. It was the kind of evening that reminds me that no matter how badly I want to travel and move and experience different places, NH will always be my home. The fact that, with no more tools than my own two feet, I can trek through dense forests and out on craggy hilltops, my imagination calling the elevated fields the moors of England, is incredible to me. It was post-work at 5 o'clock on a Monday night, after what had been a 'not horrible but definitely meh' day. And there I was, having the kind of beautiful experience I keep stored in the back of my mind under 'bucket lists'.

The thing is, there is nothing magical about 5pm on a Monday. As a current day-job holder, it's tempting to call it the least magical time of the week. But the truth is, we can't spend our days waiting for the magical moments and perfect situations. They don't really exist. Instead, we need to be able to look at our lives with clear eyes and actively pursue the work, people, situations, and interests that will add the most joy. 

I occasionally listen to Gretchen Rubin's podcast 'Happier', and I've been ruminating on a point she made a couple of months back (I've searched for the episode, but I can't remember exactly which one it was). Rubin was talking about her family's long, drawn-out decision to get their dog Barnaby. As newbie-dog owners, they were reading everything they could get their hands on about dogs and training, the pros and the cons. Living in NYC, there was no question that choosing to get a dog would mean a substantial life change; but would it be worth it? Sure, having a pet ads a lot of joy to life, but would the extra hassle outweigh the newly-added joy?

Upon reflecting, Rubin thought, "choose to live the bigger life." Spoiler alert: they got the dog, and they are so happy they did. Yes, training is hard. Yes, having a dog in an apartment is hard. Yes, he's added an extra responsibility to their already-full plates. But alongside all of that, he's also made their lives bigger. He's made playtime more boundless, their bonds a little deeper. Turns out, adding complexity can quite often also mean we're adding depth. 

"Choose to live the bigger life" has not been absent from my mind since the day I first heard it. It spurs me on to stop playing small, and instead explore the outer reaches of my capability. What would happen if I tried for the better job? Started that side project? Started talking to my friend-crush? Asked someone out? Took that new class? Everything that is great, and exciting, and ultimately soul-filling, is on the the other side of an active choice to do something. Even the simple things. 

I've also discovered that living the bigger life does not always mean living the more Insta-worthy, crazy-solo-trekking-across-Europe-life, either (unless, of course, it does). Living the bigger life is choosing not to be satisfied with the same-old, same-old, that leaves you peevish and annoyed instead of happy. You can live your bigger life by starting your freelance gig on the side. Or playing pickup hockey. Or running a 5K. Or having a kid. Or going to see your friend's play. Or turning off the TV and reading really great books. It can also mean taking a job in a different state, going back to school, saving for an adventurous vacation, or working for yourself. My guess is, that for you, living your biggest life involves a mixture of crazy, toe-crinkling adventures, and some ridiculously pleasant hum-drum experiences. The sweet spot is in the balance. 

Last Monday, work was boring. I was tired. It was 5 o'clock, and I'd eaten a decent amount of chocolate already. I wanted to lay on the couch and watch Friends, but probably would have ended up attempting to be 'productive', and ultimately scrolling my phone. But instead, I got pushed out of the house and on a hike that has no joke, changed my entire week. It gave me time to catch up with my mom. It helped me re-calibrate after a busy weekend. It gave me time, and respite, to now look out at the rest of my week and know that I've been able to spend time doing exactly what 'dream Gillian' would be doing. 

I will always stand by the opinion that we have significantly more power over our lives than we think we do. No matter your situation, you're in charge of what you make of it. I don't want to look back in 20 years and think that I settled or cowered in a corner when life came and offered things that were exciting (and terrifying). Even on Mondays, I can check that I'm doing my best. Trying my best. Pursuing that bigger, more satisfied, more authentic life.

Happy Thursday!

xoxo Gillian

Learning from a Christmas Project

Last November, I got a random Instagram DM from a guy I grew up with. Caleb Chamberlain, who was part of the same local homeschool community as me, is a photographer/filmmaker now, and working on the creative team at a local branch of Next Level Church. We met for coffee, and he explained that he wanted to create a video countdown, centered around a figure skating program, to use during before the worship team came out at NLC's Christmas services. He had reached out to find out if I would be interested in choreographing/performing it.

I was interested right away (because all you have to do to get my attention is say 'skating'), but I also knew that this was a big undertaking for just one person. So, I told Caleb I would, if I could bring one of my friends on board. And with that, I'd roped one of my closest friends and TOI teammates, Katherine Vitaro into it (don't worry, she was elated).

This is what we came up with:

The filming and editing are great, Caleb and his team did a great job and were fun to work with. We filmed it pretty late at night in a local rink, and watching them set up (and fly a drone!) was so much fun, and a great experience.

It's been almost 3 months since this project was completed, but I took my time writing this because I didn't know what I wanted to say. It's taken a long time for me to sort out my feelings on this one. I have moments where I'm really proud of what we did, and then others where I'm disappointed.  Now that I have this footage, I wish I could take some white-out and a sharpie to a couple of places.

I do not consider myself a choreographer. At all. I love artistic skating, and I think I'm good at performing, but I don't think of myself as someone's who's great at choreography. My experience comes from one choreo competition, a handful of Christmas show numbers, and putting together programs for a couple of Learn to Skate students. Part of why I was so interested in this was the fact that it would be challenging: and it was!

This isn't about ripping apart the work that Kat and I did. We completed something! Something we'd never done before! That is an achievement. But, I do have some thoughts on what I'll do differently next time:

01: I will think through logistics much earlier, and much more thoroughly. Kat and I live 2 hours away from each other. We both have two jobs. Giving up ice that I use for my personal practice is hard, and something I don't really like doing. Next time there's a project like this, I'm going to be a lot more realistic with how long it will take, and identify definite times to work on it BEFORE accepting. Of course doing fun projects requires some long days and late nights! But a lot of stress could have been avoided if I'd pre-planned better.

02: I will have better communication with the rest of the team, and a have a process for evaluating first drafts. I think what we choreographed would have looked much better from the stands than it necessarily does in the video. Having never done anything like this, it was really hard to picture exactly how they were going to film it. I wish that I'd been more responsible about asking questions, and had thought to maybe do some pre-shoots or something, so we could both get a feel for how the other was going to handle their end of the project.

03: I would use smaller movements, instead of trying to cover so much ice. Again: our stadium-skater brains took over on this one. I think it would have looked much better on film if we had used more sustained movements that took up less space, than powering around the rink in traditional skater fashion.

04: I would have more movements featuring us together. Watching it now, this is what I want more of.

05: I'd do something about my hands. Sometimes I get these weird scarecrow hands. Personal pet peeve. I need to work on fixing them.

06: I would have asked to be part of the selection of what clips were used. I think it's very hard for a non-skater to pick out the same moments a skater would. There are definitely some mistakes and hesitations that I personally would have replaced with other clips of the same section, but I think it's hard to see all of that when you're a non-skater working without a skating vocabulary. This could be totally out of line, but I think it would have helped.

BUT. There are some things here I'd definitely do again:

01: Try something new. I am happy we tackled this project because I never would have learned the six things above without it. This is the creative life: you're inspired, you try, you don't like it, but next time you try, it will probably go better. Fingers crossed, anyways.

02: Don't give up on it. Kat and I hit many walls with this project. Both of us fell victim to being uninspired, stuck, and having lots of doubts. Luckily, we felt this way at different times, and could help pull each other out of it. I'm happy we stuck it out, even while not always liking what we were coming up with.

03: Try to give an unstructured prompt a very specific story. We were told to skate to Carol of the Bells. That was it. With so much room, the first thing we did was agree on some sort of storyline. While it may not be obvious to a viewer, it anchored what we were trying to do. I think this was really helpful to us both.

I just finished reading Jenna Fischer's new book The Actor's Life. I LOVED it, and think every person wanting to live a creative life should read it. In it, she talked about the importance of showing up and doing the work. Of course we all want to be perfect, or at the very least good. But that isn't realistic every single day. Instead of always aiming for perfection, we need to aim to challenge ourselves, try new things, and approach everything with a growth mindset.

There are many things I would change about this project, but I am looking forward to taking all of that to the next thing, instead of ruminating on this one any longer. There is work to be done.

Be the grittiest! 

xoxo Gillian

Remember To Talk To The Ice

Last night, I got to go to what the Boston skating community knows as an Underground. Adam Blake, who choreographs everything from Ross Miner, to the Haydenettes, to Disney on Ice, to our entire TOI program, puts them on occasionally. Usually held pretty late at night, he comes up with a dance combo for us to learn, and then we take it to the ice. He does a lot of hip hop in his choreography, so these combos usually have a lot of that, too. After we officially learn and practice it on the ice, we alternate doing it all together, splitting into big groups, and splitting into small groups. He films all the different groupings, and eventually pulls them together into a video. 

As we were warming up on the ice, he turned out the lights and set tea candles on the boards all the way around the rink. He told us to listen as we skated in our own space, without acknowledging other people, and take some time to talk to the ice. 

When you're in a relationship, he says, you can't ignore your person for days and weeks at a time, and then come home and expect everything to be fine. You need to talk to them. You need to show them you're grateful for them and excited by them. You can tell them when they make you nervous, or even when you're mad at them. You need to tell them when they're the reason you're happy.

It's the exact same thing with the ice. Adam said, that as we get busy coaching or choreographing or fulfilling contracts or even just doggedly training every day, we can forget to keep talking to the ice. And then, we're surprised when it doesn't talk back! To keep skating accessible to us, to bring our truest, strongest, most creative selves to the rink, we need to keep talking to it. 

It's not like I'm competing at the Olympics. But even while preparing for tests, local competitions, and auditions, it can be easy to loose sight of what I love about skating. With the pressure to check off accomplishments and rush to get things done, it's very easy to not take the time to think about what you're doing out there. When you're hustling to run your program, practice all your jump passes, and train your spins, it's easy to go a stretch of days or weeks when you skate a lot but don't make anything new. 

The best part, is that talking to the ice doesn't require a lot of time. You could make up new spin combinations, or funky arm variations. You could try doing different tricks into your jump entrances. You could put yourself through your own warm-up edge class with footwork patterns you create, or on empty sessions, put on music and allow yourself to do some improv. Talking to the ice is just like playing: it could be doing Showcase duets with a friend, doing knee slides across the ice, or even making a point to perform more in every program runthrough. 

Skating is an intense sport that requires a lot of physical ability and hard training. But it's also a performing art. Our programs aren't stagnant, they're living and breathing, and they're different every time we skate them. While it's important to be a great skater from a technical viewpoint, we can't ignore the fact that what we're doing out there is art. So it's worth it to look up. Perform. Understand the story you're trying to tell. And give yourself the room to create something that's honest, and that you're proud of.

Saturday night was an absolute BLAST. Thank you, Adam, for the incredible opportunity to do stuff like this. Feeling extra inspired and excited to catch up with the ice tomorrow.

Be the grittiest!!

xoxo Gillian