Cypris will be adding her flair to help ring in the New Year!
Cypris shall present a Burlesque opener for the live debut of the “Group Hug” EP. Come out and enjoy the grooves of Eric Blu & the Soul Revue.
Thursday, November 21st. JewelBox Theater at Rendezvous in Belltown, Seattle. Doors at 7.
Tickets are $7 in advance, $10 at the door. (www.brownpapertickets.com/
SeaCompression is a celebration of the interactive arts, music, lights, emotion and experience, with the added emphasis on participation. Participants can watch, learn and grow with live fire art, live music, kinetic sculptures, art cars, multiple dance spaces, sound and light shows. This in an immersive experience that can be discovered, interpreted, and realized at SeaCompression.
Cypris will be performing a Flowlesque routine as well as spinning fire throughout the night.
Show times to be determined, please check back closer to the date!
7:00 p.m. – 2:00 a.m.
2929 27th Ave S, Seattle, WA 98144
Tickets starting at $37
Seattle’s Biggest Halloween Electronic Music Sensory Experiences. Cypris will be joining here Super Geek League friends to create the most freak-tastic atmosphere for this two night Halloween extravaganza.
October 25th & 26th
800 Occidental Ave S, Seattle, WA 98134
Tickets starting at $186
Come find Cypris at the Carmel Market, spinning the crowd into smiles and delight!
April – July
Wednesday and Friday
12:00 – 2:00 PM
Tree of Life Festival is a psychedelic Music and Arts Gathering in a unique and peaceful resort located in Izmir, Turkey.
June 13 – 18th
Three commentaries on the concentration and flow.
No experience required. No need to bring to the workshop accessories.
12:00 to 13:15 Flowtation, Cypris Exuro
1:30 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. Workshop Pallu and floor work, Jenny Birger
3:00 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. Dance and Storage, Gilad Saturn
Pre-registration 03-5188998. Cost of each lesson 60 chess. 150 chess Subscribe three classes.
May 25, Saturday 11:00 am, cozy studio, Washington 29.
Flowtation / Cypris Exuro
A class to help connect to one another through play. Take your personal exploration to a new level by incorporating simple movements of both your body and your mind. This class combines meditation with the flow tool of your choosing. Bring your favorite prop or borrow one of our sets of Poi or Staff. No experience necessary.
Workshop Pallu and floor work / Jenny Birger
We’ll start the workshop with a number of simple, basic movements, a kind of “particles”, which we consider later in the sequence of movement. Using the floor, weight transfer, and our ability to bring together the various organs, learn to produce smooth transitions, and movement flowing and effortless.
Dance and storage / Gilad Saturn
The workshop will touch and movement techniques to work with objects from the world of modern juggling, mime and dance in search of work flow and harmonious.
This is an event with a name that has no meaning, but it sure does look cool in Hebrew! Cypris shall be spinning the night away and offering a workshop on connecting to one another through flow props!
Working at a kibbutz was on my to-do list, but when i went to volunteer, i was told that you must apply before arriving in Isreal, make a two month commitment to working at a place that the agency chooses, as well as pay a large deposit. I figured that this was not going to be an option, until I heard about a sustainable farm a couple hours south of the city. It was described as a spiral gardened oasis of calm with clay huts and light work throughout the day. Then, it just so happened, a friend was traveling there in a couple days and welcomed me for the journey.
We met at the central bus station of Tel Aviv. This was the one place i was absolutely warned to never go near. Turns out it is like any other mass public transit station i have ever been to. It is a huge multi level complex with a food court and little shops all around. It is in a poor neighborhood that you would not want to wander very far into, but I felt safe in the station itself. The number of bus lines is dizzying. There are three different kinds of buses you can take; 10 person taxis called sheruts, where you enter and find your seat then pass your money from seat to seat to the driver who then passes your change back to you from person to person; regular large city buses and long-haul greyhound-esque wifi equipped ones sans toilet. We wound our way up the escalators to the top floor. i was very grateful to have a guide through chaos.
It was Sunday, the day all the military folks return to thier bases. All Isrealis, unless you are religious, studying, or crazy, are required to be in the military for 3 years post-highschool. It is a very casual thing to see groups of teenagers, gathered in their uniforms with rifles across their shoulders. Seeing all of these deadly weapons illicit a certain knee jerk fear when you are not accustom to it. But when looking closer, the gun is like the laptop cases of a business man. It is just another cumbersome thing to carry around that is necessary for the job being done.
I had two seats to myself and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the journey was going to be a long one. What i did not realize, was that this was not a non-stop bus. The man in front of me fell asleep and i started to wish i did the same. The bus was standing room only after about half an hour. I watched as many people stared down at the sleeping passenger, but let him be. It took another 45 minutes before an old salty man shook him awake.
We reached our stop and i noticed we were on a highway and nowhere near what looked to be a farm. The guys i was traveling with let me know it was hitching time. We spread apart, stuck out our thumbs, and watched the cars go by. It is hitching courtesy to line up behind the people that were there first. I noticed a girl traveling by herself and felt pretty calm about the whole thing. If she can do it, so can I and i was traveling with two men, so i did not worry. A couple rides later we arrived at Adamama.
The farm buildings are arranged on a winding path that leads to the hay fields. You begin at the kitchen, which is open for eating whenever you are hungry as well as for the communal meals that are cooked for lunch and dinner. The walls are lined with shelves that hold 5 gallon buckets filled with nuts, grains, and dried fruits. Ethiopian tahini is also in a huge bucket accompanied by the giant jug of the farm’s olive oil. There is electricity to run the lights, refrigerator, kettle, and toaster, but the only hot cooking option is called a kettle stove. You start by pulling a metal tray out to clean the ashes from the previous meal, then add hay through a small whole at the bottom of a smoke stack. Once the fire gets going you add wood. The top of the smoke stack is open with metal grate to put the pot on. The stove relies on air circulation, so you must make sure the vessel you choose is not too large. Once you use how to light it properly, it is a very efficient cooking system.
There is a communal area of couches and a huge table that is covered in a lattice work of climbing plants. The path continues to a multi-person living tent that has a wood stove and electricity, a large open tent for hosting work shops and kids groups whose roof is made out of a billboard of Bruno, a few smaller living quarters, and ends at an out cropping of clay huts.
Reduce, Reuse, recycle is the way of life that is apparent in all things. Plastic bottles are re-purposed as planters, lanterns, lights, and anything else possible. All food waste is fed to the chickens or composted. Glass bottles are turned into glasses and eating vessels. Electricity is used as little as possible, although it is not really noticeable.
My duties included dead heading all of the really tall prickly plants, putting sun dried olives into jars, gathering snails for the chickens, putting nets over fruit trees, then waiting them with concrete tiles, cooking for a school group, teaching poi and nighttime glow performances for the staff.
My last evening was spent frolicking in the hay fields. There was a huge quadruple stack of bails that i climbed and spun on, overlooking the surrounding farms and listening to the musical call of the ice cream man. Which, incidentally, the ice cream man does not actually sell ice cream, only popsicles. I watched as they tried to fly a kite that was made the day before and then played Frisbee till the sun went down!
I randomly posted about wanting to make it to the Dead Sea. A friend offered to take me to her favorite kibbutz hotel for a day of salty adventure. The architecture dramatically changes when you leave Jerusalem. The Arab built areas are comprised of huge high rise buildings, clustered very close together, that all look the same. As the altitude declined, we were surrounded by hills that are tended by the Bedouins; a nomadic culture that lives in tents, agricultural gypsies that also guide people through the desert. Road signs along the way show your drop in altitude.
We picked up a couple dutch hitch hikers as we entered the kibbutz, but ended up only driving them a few blocks to the trail they were looking for. The hotel was nestled in a desert oasis. Banyan trees, soft grass, and many familiar tropical plants lined the well kept property. Our room was not ready yet so we headed to the Ein Gedi spa which seemed more like a ski lodge. There was a large room for picnicking, a small snack stand, a gift store with really expensive everything, murky fish tanks used for pedicures, and public rest rooms. The way to the beach was via carts pulled by a tractor. It reminded me of hay rides. As we puttered down the road, the aqua marine sea opened my smile as wide as it could go. The white salt deposits off the shore make it look like waves are lapping. You must wear shoes when entering the sea. The salt looks like white coral and is super sharp. There were a few grass shade structures that were covered in white stalagmites of salt. The sea is harsh, one drop of water in the eye will blind you for a few minutes. I could not resist the urge to float on my back, feeling more then weightless. The water supports you from below, most of your body is above water. I wanted to open my eyes, just a tiny bit to see the sky above. I took care to keep my head back so as to avoid the blindness, but was only mildly successful.
It was hard to find good mud. So many years of use and global warming has diminished the supply. It is grey in color, unlike the black mud you can buy in stores. I always avoided becoming a mud person, but this time i let it go, I was in the dead sea for goodness sakes! After a fifteen minute bake in the sun and a torrential shower, my skin was pristine and soft. The mud lives up to its reputation!
The next day we took a cable car up to Masada the ancient fortification atop a 1,300 foot plateau. The story was dramatically played out in the introduction movie. Masada was home to the last group of Jewish rebels against the Roman conquest. The Romans built an assault ramp up the side of the mountain,then rolled a battering ram up it to breach the city walls. Rather then be taken into slavery, the rebels killed themselves and their families.
The ruins are commanding. It feels like a place of ultimate human survival. To live in the middle of the desert, a top a huge rock formation is mind boggling. They built many storage areas to house supplies for months, supposedly Masada was one of the best equipped residences. We self guided our way through the Mikvah a Jewish ritual bath, Herod’s palace, living quarters, communal areas, guard house, and the synagogue. We talked with Rabbi Lewis, who was behind a sheet of glass as he transcribed the Torah using a quill pen and parchment. He invited us into his sacred space and asked what was my purpose for being in Israel. I told him of my flow aspirations and he gave me much encouragement. He offered to write me a blessing in Hebrew and inquired about my utmost desire. I responded, “Peace of Mind.” He got a little bit of parchment and started skillfully and purposely writing. The blessing he offered translates to, “God gave you a pure heart.” I was overwhelmed with gratitude and took my parchment outside to gaze at the Dead Sea while it dried.
We waited in a her d of children for the cable car ride back. Rabbi Lewis and a French couple were the only people over the age of 10. The doors opened and the kids rushed in. We were in a mosh pit of children, screaming at the top of their lungs. Luckily, we were right by the exit door, so it was a quick step to the side to avoid the stampede.
Upon my return to Jerusalem, I was really antsy. I had been wanting to go to the Israel Museum since i arrived. Google maps was only in Hebrew, so i broke out my tourist information provided map and started on my way. I wound my way down the roads whose name changes a few times, but there are no signs to tell you this. I ended up at a park, my first non-car experience in the woods of Israel. The trees are evergreen and sparsely distributed over the levels of tan rock. Looking at the pine cones brought thoughts of the North West. I popped out of the woods and onto a college campus. Feeling very lost, i started to hitch. A soccer mom picked me up and it turned out i was only a few blocks from the museum.
I only had 2 hours and did not realize how big the place was. My game plan was Dead Sea Scrolls first, Herod next, then the rest of the museum. The scrolls are housed in a white building that replicates the pots they were found in. It looks like a giant boob, with a hard nipple, that is keeping cool from the fountains that cascade over it. You enter the Shrine of the Book and walk down a dark hallway. The center of the room houses a a large reproduction of the Great Isaiah Scroll that you can walk around. Around the edge of the room are the fragments of the actual scrolls. They are preserved in what looks like a waxy substance, that is pressed between glass. I am so grateful to get to see things I have only read about.
I continued my journey through the sculpture garden and into the galleries. There were all of my favorite Impressionists, Post Impressionist, Modern, and Post Modern artists. I kept walking deeper and deeper in the museum and then remembered Herod! I pulled myself away from the art and went seeking the king. I was drawn back to the art post historical experience and almost did not get my bag back because the museum was closing.
I had some left over falafel from lunch and sat on a bench outside noshing down until i figured out what to do next. I wandered around trying to find the right bus back. I ended up getting a free ride back to Sivan’s from a cabby.