Free Your Butterflies

originally posted by Sandi Dolitz-Vasquez on May 11, 2011 at http://spinclass.wordpress.com/2011/05/11/free-your-butterflies/

Naked faced and with hair pulled back, she stands before the mirror, reviewing the canvas of her face in the reflection.   She ponders where to start even though she’s probably done this close to a hundred times in the last 15 years.  She touches the contours of her cheekbone, she raises her eyebrows and she notes the shifts in geography. She smiles and examines the length and curve of the laugh lines around her mouth, and the deepening of natural borders she needs to consider that used to only be implied.  She begins to plan her strategy for the next hour of work.

As she opens her toolbox, the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begin their usual flitting and fluttering.  She always wonders why this happens – she doesn’t think she’s nervous. Are the butterflies heralds of the infrequent but now eminent rebirth of the being within her? Are they due to the anxiety of hiding one aspect of herself and becoming the other? Or have they perhaps been awakened in anticipation and excitement of her true self being allowed to come out of hiding once again?

She forces herself to ignore the feelings in her belly and lifts her hand to her face.  She carefully begins the process of blotting out her ordinary self by emphasizing her alter egos bolder, more colorful characteristics.  Paint, pat, paint, pat and powder. Brush off the excess, spray with water and repeat the process with the next color. Then sparkly purple lashed eyes lined with black soon stand out on a background of pure white with hints of glitter pink eyeshadow. Pairs of tiny shiny hearts and various carefully chosen petite sequins accent each side of her face; her cheeks, the outside corners of her eyes and a few specially placed ones can be found subtly twinkling beneath her darkened and now highly arched eyebrows.

She looks at the reflection, studying what happens to the appearing new face in the mirror when she smiles and noting how her aging lips now turn slightly downward when she doesn’t. She’s glad she has compensated by drawing her overemphasized ruby red mouth into a perpetual smile.  But she makes a mental note to try to remember to really smile big and smile often – so the essence of her true smile will also be seen twinkling in her eyes.

She applies the brilliant red petite nose which just barely hides the tip of her natural one. The butterfly swarm is suddenly quelled or perhaps with the addition of her glorious violet colored Jheri-curl-ish shoulder length wig they feel they can finally rest. She slips into her silver tights and pulls on her neon pink and orange tutu crinolines and silver sequined hot pink shear overskirt.  She adjusts the flowers along her tangerine tee-shirt’s neckline and wraps a deep purple sequined scarf around her neck.  

As she struggles with the silver laces of her glittered pink high top sneakers and adjusts her many multicolored jelly bracelets and pulls on her white gloves, she begins to feel that her transformation is complete.  She checks her hair in the mirror – all the flowers and miniature butterflies and tiny sparkly things placed carefully throughout her purple curls are in their proper places.  

She smiles at her new reflection and at the thought of Violet the Clown being allowed to legitimately and joyfully be on the “outside” for a few hours and how even after the effort it took to get her here, she’ll probably miss her again when it’s time for her to go back in…

Tears of a Clown - by Violet

this post was originally published by my alter-ego Sandi at her writers group site, http://spinclass.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/tears-of-a-clown/ 

"Well they’re some sad things known to man, but ain’t too much sadder than the tears of a clown… when there’s no one around… "
(Smokey Robinson and The Miracles)

Once in a while, during my 9 to 5 corporate day job, I can expect to hear a shriek of surprise when my secret identity cover is blown (much like someone discovering Diana Prince is Wonder Woman or Barbara Gordon is Bat-Girl).  “You’re a clown?!” they ask with wide eyed and incredulously stares at the images, pictures and certificates at my desk.  “I’m afraid of Clowns” or “Clowns freak me out” will often be one of the next statements I prepare to expect… “Well I’m sure you just hadn’t met the right Clowns.”  I always sweetly reply, but it breaks my heart and makes me sad every time.

Why do people have this reaction to Clowns?  I have spent much time and thought considering this question.   And I have some theories… the majority of people I encounter who react negatively to clowns are adults, I very very rarely encounter a child over 3 who is overly fearful of me or other clowns.

So why are some of the adults I meet afraid of clowns?  Not to the point of coulrophobia  – but mostly to the previously  mentioned “clowns freak me out” level.  Well, I think there is a combination of reasons. Stephen King’s movie,  IT,  is mentioned to me regularly, as well as Halloween fright fests always having a creepy killer clown.  I also think older – old school – clowns have left negative childhood impressions on the adults I am now having to calmly talk to after they begin to back away from me.  “Old school” Clowns in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s may have been a bit more oblivious to a child’s non-verbal queues and may have continued to be an overwhelming, in your face presence, as they couldn’t fathom that a child would not be in love with them…  but it wasn’t always the  Clowns fault, even today I can’t begin to tell you how many parents continue to push little 2 year old Billy or Suzie on us  even as the child is screaming their head off….

And I have a personal theory about clown makeup having to be precisely applied and as symmetrical as possible – as I think deep down in our subconscious, if we see there is something “off” about the human face we have a gut level reaction to it.  I stress about my clown makeup, it takes me an hour to do even my “simple face” because I want to get it right.  And it bothers me when I see casual Clowns, who in my opinion, don’t appear to be taking their craft seriously enough to consider if their eyeliner is crooked or if their nose is on straight… its not just about clowning because YOU love to clown, if you’re serious about it, it’s also about clowning to bring joy and be loved.  And to be loved, you have to be acceptable to a child or your audience even on that subconscious level.

There is so much more, I know – we are often loud and brightly colored, we are overwhelming in sight and sound, often with honking horns, jingling bells, kazoos, noisemakers and popping balloons.  We are a sensory overload.  But know that often these days there are now kinder gentler Clowns.  We get it.  We know that you’re uncomfortable and we respect that and we can back off and not press you and give you your space.

And I am a clown who doesn’t maintain the clown myth to children.  I tell them, “I’m a mom just like your mom”  and “yes you are right, this is a wig and makeup – and is all just make believe.”  (And I don’t know Santa or the Easter Bunny or the tooth fairy…)

But the thing that saddens me the most as a clown is not the fearful or the scared, it’s the rude.  It’s the parents who shove Billy or Suzie in your face and demand, “Hey make a balloon – or – give her a facepainting…” or when you hint to their child afterwards that they should say “please” or thank you” they give YOU the hairy eyeball.

But why did I go into Clowning?  Why did so many of us?  Good intentions: Love of laughter, wanting to share it, and a feeling that there is healing power in this work, this calling.  We forgive the fearful (it’s not their fault) and we try to overlook the rudeness of others – and we keep sharing and caring and laughing and hoping our messages of love and laughter get though to the ones who appreciate and need us and that they will pass it on to others.

So again I say, if you’re afraid of Clowns, its okay, but that’s just because you just hadn’t met the right Clown … until now.  And I’ll help you through this if you want me to, because I cant help myself, I Love you!  - Violet the Clown

Violet & Me - by Laura Caraballo

Originally posted on June 23, 2011 http://spinclass.wordpress.com/2011/06/23/violet-me/

It was my 2 weeks before my 8th birthday; I was leaving for Puerto Rico for the first time. My dad, aunt, cousin, and I were going to visit family that I had never met before. I was nervous and scared, I didn’t know what to expect. The thought of leaving home for that length of time had me in tears as we boarded the plane. Inevitably, I ended up falling in love with the beaches, beautiful weather and my cousins who I had a blast playing with the entire time, so of course I had no desire to leave and the end of the 2 weeks. The same condition I left Rochester in (tears) was the same condition I left Puerto Rico in. I guess that should have been a sign in my life that goodbyes would always be hard for me. Granted I don’t cry at every single one anymore it’s always awkward, never fun, to say good bye when you know you won’t see someone for a long time, if ever again.

After the long exhausting flight back to Rochester I wasn’t sure if I was excited to see my mom and sister or if I wanted to go back to the beach. Back then your family was allowed to wait at the terminal for you and greet you as you departed the plane. We were flying back home right around my birthday and it was rather hard to miss the welcoming committee with posters and signs saying “Happy Birthday Laura” and my godmother dressed as a purple clown… I had never seen her dressed as a clown before but there was no fooling this genius of an 8 year old! I think I may have broken her heart when instead of seeing a clown all I could see was her and in my spunky 8 year old attitude said “Hiiiii Sandi” as if I couldn’t be bothered with trying to be tricked. We joke about this moment still to this day about how she was dressed as Violet the clown but to me she was just my goofy godmother.

It was only fitting that Violet is the one that chose our Spin Class topic this week of clowns. Even when she isn’t dressed as Violet she can always make me smile and laugh. She doesn’t have to put on her purple wig and makeup and glittery skirts to cheer people up but man she pulls it off well. She may lives miles away from me now but she never fails to inspire me and influence me in one way or another.

You Give Us Life - by Danielle Boccher

originally posted June 23, 2011 http://spinclass.wordpress.com/2011/06/23/you-give-us-life/

by Danielle Boccher

For this story, I turned to the internet to gain some perspective on a topic I’ve never heard discussed except in the writings of Sandi Dolitz Vasquez.  Usually, I never get past the first page of a Google search, but in this case, I was forced to go the next page because the previous one was riddled with clowns of the scary kind or entertainment companies looking for me to book a party.  Well, if I ever need a clown for a party, I need not look any further than the aforementioned Sandi, aka Violet the Clown, Nurse NiceAlot the Hospital HaHa Clown, Auntie Sandi the Clown and Ezmerelda the Gypsy Clown.

But on that second page, staring back at me was a listing for Clowns Without Borders.  Everyone by now has heard of Doctors Without Borders, but this Clowns Without Borders was news to me.  Founded by Jaume Mateu, known as Tortell Poltrona, in 1993, they have through the years, expanded to nine countries, including one right here in the United States.  Their main purpose is to bring a little joy to those suffering in crisis, in refugee camps of war torn countries, or those displaced by natural disasters, who face more sadness in their daily lives than most.

“People have brought mattresses, blankets and medicine, but until now nobody gives us life. You let us laugh and smile and you give us life.”  This is a quote from an interview with the founder, Tortell Poltrona, who recounted this comment from a director of a high school in Sri Lanka just days after the tsunami in 2004.  These clowns, all volunteers, wear just a simple red nose and perform for crowds as small or large as seven hundred.  How rewarding it must be to bring humor where there otherwise is none, to give a glimmer of hope and a feeling of normalcy to those living an incredibly sad life devoid of humanity.

I had the pleasure of seeing Sandi being a clown tonight at a party, not in character as any of her usual get ups, but as a “regular’ person as her son Benny would say.  She had her “Mary Poppins” bag o’ tricks with her in the car from a gig earlier in the day, so she brought it into the party to entertain the group of children and entertain she did.  There was one little girl, just mesmerized by the magic tricks, her eyes getting larger and larger with each slight of hand.  On her head was a balloon hat, on one arm, a balloon giraffe and in the other hand, a balloon dog.  If she had had another arm, she would have accepted another balloon creation.  She could not get enough.

And here was this little girl, who has everything in the world a little girl could ever want in life, so just imagine what impact she has on one who has nothing but a debilitating or terminal illness.