Tesselate
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For my aerial trapeze performance to the song "Tesselate" by Alt-J, I wanted to capture the intricate interplay of geometry and movement—just as the song does with its lyrics and rhythm. Each swing, spin, and drop in the choreography was designed to mimic the tessellation of emotions: the breaking apart and fitting back together of form and feeling. The trapeze became a tool to explore the dynamic shifts between tension and release, grounding and elevation, as the music swells and ebbs.
The lyric, "Triangles are my favorite shape, three points where two lines meet," was an anchor for me as I designed the performance. The trapeze itself forms a kind of triangle, and throughout the piece, I aimed to create shapes and patterns with my body that mirrored this lyric’s simplicity and complexity. The performance was about the balance between precision and flow, letting each moment tessellate into the next seamlessly, just as the song’s beats connect like a puzzle.
I wanted the audience to feel that sense of fragmentation and unity, as if the space around me was shifting in patterns of sound and silence, movement and stillness. It was about breaking apart to find new forms, a dance of perfect imperfection.
Baby Boy
View Full PerformanceFor my aerial silk dance to Childish Gambino's "Baby Boy," I wanted to create a piece that embodied the vulnerability and tenderness of the song while also capturing its raw emotional intensity. The silks became an extension of the lyrics, wrapping around me like the soft, yet inescapable, emotions of love and loss that run throughout the song.
As the music unfolds with its gentle, hypnotic beats, I used the silks to move between moments of suspension and free fall, representing the delicate balance between holding on and letting go.
When Gambino sings, “Baby boy, you’re still in my mind, you’re still in my heart,” those words felt like the push and pull of the fabric—sometimes cradling me, sometimes leaving me weightless and exposed. The silks would wrap around my limbs, cocooning me in softness, only to release me into a spin or drop, symbolizing the surrender to those unspoken emotions.
Throughout the performance, I played with the contrast of rising high and descending low, using the silks to show the emotional highs and lows of love—the elation and the heartbreak, the holding on and the letting go. It was an exploration of love’s fragility, its beauty, and its power to lift us up or let us fall. The dance was as much about navigating the spaces between the silks as it was about letting the music guide my movements, a delicate dialogue between sound, body, and fabric.
Why I Love Aerial Dance
Aerial dance is where I find my truest sense of freedom, a space suspended between earth and sky, where I can shape the air around me and let my body tell a story. The silks, trapeze, or hoop aren’t just apparatus—they’re extensions of my creativity, tools that allow me to move beyond the limitations of the ground and express the rhythms I feel deep inside. When I’m up there, wrapped in fabric or hanging by a thread, I feel like I’m in conversation with the space itself, as though the air dances with me, responding to every twist, turn, and dive.
Music is the heartbeat of my aerial work. It pulses through me, shaping my movements and giving life to my choreography. When I hear a song that resonates, it becomes the invisible partner in my dance, guiding my body in ways words never could. I love how a single note can inspire a slow, fluid climb or how a sharp beat might push me into a sudden drop, the fabric catching me just in time. Each performance feels like a living, breathing interpretation of sound—an embodiment of emotion, lyric, and melody intertwined with the physicality of flight. There’s an intimacy in that connection, an unspoken dialogue between my body and the music.
What draws me to aerial, above all, is the freedom it offers. There are no rules in the air, no set choreography I have to follow. I can create whatever I imagine, blending strength with vulnerability, power with grace. Every move is my own, every shape unique to the moment. Whether I’m climbing toward the ceiling or letting myself fall into the silks' embrace, there’s a rush of possibility in every motion. Aerial dance is where I feel most alive—where creativity and movement merge, and I get to explore the endless potential of my body and the world around me.
Influences
Aerial dance has been deeply influenced by two incredible women in my life. My teacher, a local community pastor, brought the beauty of aerial arts into an unexpected space—her church. It was there, among the silks and trapeze, that I first learned to let go and trust my body to the air. Her passion for blending spirituality and movement was infectious, and it showed me that dance could be both a physical and soulful experience. She encouraged me to explore my personal style, using the silks not just for exercise but as a form of expression.
Then there's Shannon, a close friend and mentor who has taught aerial and surfing for years. Shannon is the most beautiful and inspiring aerial dancer I've ever met. Her movements are so fluid and graceful, it’s as if she becomes one with the fabric. She doesn’t just teach the technical aspects of aerial; she embodies the freedom that comes with trusting your body, the silks, and the space around you. Her dedication to both aerial dance and the ocean has shaped the way I see movement as an extension of nature, a flowing art form that mirrors the rhythm of the waves. Shannon’s spirit and technique have inspired me to push my boundaries, blending strength with creativity in every performance.