Eight years ago, I started creating a duet titled “111” with paraplegic wheelchair dancer Joel Brown in Scotland. We wanted to collaborate and create new work showcasing how fiercely our bodies meet on stage, how they can move, and what dance can do with a person. We were both relatively unique individuals and were confident there might be an excellent chance to get funding. We wrote a project and thought we could get this work on stage in a year, but it took us four and a half years to finally succeed. 

At first, we didn’t have a producer, which was very difficult because if two people who are the creators also have to deal with the paperwork and funding applications – the energy goes elsewhere. So we applied once. Nothing. Then we tried to get funding from a foundation that supports the creative work of disabled people, but we only got money to practice a little.

However, we did not give up and kept developing the show. It became a passion project. We didn’t get paid for it and covered everything ourselves. I went to aerial training and prepared my body to carry the wheelchair dancer on my arms and back without injuries. Looking back, this period was like sifting through gold so that only the most important, the creme de la creme, remained on the surface. In the meantime, we still applied without success. And then, for a moment, there was a danger of breaking down, wondering if it all made sense. By then, two and a half years had passed. Fortunately, we decided to hire a producer, and she started working with us to get financial support to bring this show live finally. She believed in us and saw the chemistry between us and the potential of this work. By this time, we had already muscled through the original idea, marinating it, eating it, vomiting, giving birth, and putting it back in the oven. All those previous rejections made this work ripe enough to break through this tight application round finally. And we did it. 

All our shows were sold out when we finally brought it to the stage at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. It’s harrowing when you have people who have come extra miles to see you and your work, but you still have to turn them away. But the paradox is that now that we have received funding and are invited everywhere, our bodies are already worn out, and we can’t perform this piece anymore. 

Such a lack of interest or rejection by specific organizations or people on this journey tests your project and yourself to see if you have enough fuel or passion for breaking through. You suppress your pride and are that squeaky door that occasionally pops up again, making noise and asking for that little help and strength behind it. But it all can only work if there is this itching inside you that this creative work must come out of you, that you cannot go on without telling this story. This is what sustains you. There is an audience somewhere — also, the funding audience. You just have to find it.