Dancing with Fire

Mason Howerton

Professor Burns

ENG 101-697

29 September 2015

                                                               Dancing with Fire

To say I feel alive with two flaming balls of Kevlar attached to lengths of chain spinning around my body in various patterns would be a gross understatement. For me, spinning “poi” is more than a performance art; it’s a creative and physical outlet with an infinite ceiling of mastery, the act of which never fails to inspire me. Primarily an exercise in object manipulation, spinning poi has roots in juggling and shares many of the same fundamental biomechanical foundations. Entering a state of “flow” can be characterized as active meditation where one does not so much think, as feel each movement and technical skill flowing into the next. Utilizing the circles and lines created as I manipulate both poi in the space around me there are a multitude of geometric patterns to be combined, some more challenging than others. Although it can be dangerous and physically demanding activity, each session of spinning is an exercise of the mind as much as it is the body.

               The preparation for a burn is ritualistic, a two fold preparation of equipment and mental state.  The smell of white gas sits heavy on the air as the large can of Coleman Camp Fuel sits open on the table in front of me. The scent triggers a warning in my head, “Danger! Flammable!” my parent’s teaching doing its intended work, attempting to steer me clear of the potentially hazardous situation. I quickly push the cautionary thoughts out of my head. I’ve done this before; I know what I’m doing.  Kneeling down I dunk the three and a half inch long Kevlar balls, attached to my twenty-inch long chains, into the fuel can, a gurgle sounds as the volatile liquid impregnates the knots of fire retardant, fiberglass infused fabric. The poi feel heavy in my hands as I pull them from the can, chains tinkling as they shift to support the weight of the fuel drenched heads, ready and waiting for ignition. Taking the silicone handle and a small length of chain into the appropriate grip between thumb and forefinger, I flick my wrist to generate the momentum necessary to send the each head spinning in a circle with enough centrifugal force to divest them of any excess fuel, the soft mist of naphtha tingles as it suffuses the air around me. Excitement running rampant, I take a deep breath to steady my nerves in preparation for my fiery dance. Pulling a lighter out of my pocket I put my thumb on the flint and spark it, a flame comes to life and I immediately transfer it to the head of the poi. Flame takes to fuel like a fish to water and in the blink of an eye the poi is an inferno within my control, heat licking at my fingers. I touch the head to it’s counterpart hanging from the chain in my left hand, as flame engulfs the second of the pair I’m ready to begin my smoldering dance.

                               Light and shadow play across the ground as I swing both poi in a circle in the front, or “Wall” plane. The smell of burning naphtha is accompanied by a WHOOSSSHHHH as the miniature infernos travel through the air. The handles feel heavy in my hands, the knowledge that any misstep or moment of inattention will result in a burn. The chains dig into my fingers as I stop the head upside down in mid air, performing a “stall”. Muscles taught, I pull the poi back along its initial path of travel and perform a second stall, the head of the poi facing downward in front of me. Sweat beads on my brow a result of both my concentration, and the heat. Shifting my wrist slightly I move into a side or “wheel” plane. Spinning the first poi clockwise, and the second counter clockwise I move my arms in opposite circles, completing two extensions. My left wrist is slightly out of position and the flaming head brushes against my arm, the smell of burning hair entering the atmosphere. The sizzle sends a small spark of panic up my spine. Ignoring the scorched follicles, I let the chains intersect each other in wall plane, executing an “air wrap”. Careful to not put any tension into the tethers, I watch as both heads perform a dance around each other before unwrapping. Pulling off the difficult maneuver fills me with a modicum of pride. Emboldened, I put my hands together in front of me and complete a spiral wrap as both heads spin inward, wrapping around my closed hands. As the flame graces my skin I feel the warmth of the chains, and hear the crackle as the hair on my knuckles is incinerated. Feeling confident, I toss my right hand poi into the air and then release the left as well. Reaching out, I catch both in the opposite hand, giving me the opportunity to execute yet another toss. My hubris getting the better of me I miss one of the handles and it falls to the ground burning a small patch of grass with a crackle. Chastened, I pick it up and get back to work. As the fire reaches the middle point in its life I slip into a state of active meditation. My arms coil and uncoil as I shift through the phases of my fiery yoga. Bare feet moving through the grass, the cool ground a beautiful, welcome contrast from the heat of my activity. Shifting my weight from one foot, to the other I prepare to increase the tempo of my display. Arms move faster, the flaming spheres become a pair of orange blurs whipping through the darkness. The sanguine calm of my mind affording me an unmatched focus, I shift planes in the blink of an eye. Moving my hands out to either side I create a circle of flame at each point. Shifting, I swing one above my head and the other below my waist making another set of circles, executing a “four petal flower”. The speed of my movements eating away at the flames at an accelerated rate, I notice my time with the fire slowly ticking away. For the finale I plant my feet firmly on the cool ground, move my hands behind my back, and send the poi through my open legs. First one, then the next, swinging in and then out as I complete the final portion of my display.  The heads sputter out, the absence of their luminescence and heat a stark contrast to the activity singing through the air moments before.