Skye Fyre and the Zen of Fire Dancing

Skye Fyre

I am a fire dancer. I’m not the world’s best, but I love flinging flaming balls around my head, and do so at any possible moment. My wardrobe is split into “flammable” and “non-flammable” and I’ve given up on perfume, since I smell of paraffin most of the time anyway. Long before I was labelled a “paraffin head” by a friend, I would lug a great smelly box of weird and wonderful toys around wherever I went. Ribbon poi, flag poi, fire chains and all of the paraphernalia that goes with my odorous hobby of choice. Of course, I’m lucky. Unlike many others, I’m friends with people who know what poi are and are not afraid to fling them. I was introduced to poi via such a friend who makes beautiful hand painted sandbag poi. Whilst at a local craft market, I spotted a group of people all throwing their arms about and laughing as they wrapped pretty ribbons around themselves. Curiosity got the better of me, and I bought my very own set of poi. Part dance, part exercise, part defy-the-laws-of-gravity, I began experimenting. Accompanied by a lot of slapping noises, grunts and some well chosen expletives, I stumbled down the path to being a miniature ribbon rainbow all by myself. Bruised, battered and somewhat fitter, I enjoyed ribbon poi as a form of frustrating exercise, less relaxing than yoga but with as many pretzel moves.

Then I discovered fire.

Ribbon poi are pretty, safe and make one feel a little like a storybook fairy. Fire on the other hand, well. How would you feel taking one of the natural forces of the world and making it dance around your body? Fire makes me feel amazing. Adrenaline and warm, fuzzy feelings compete with a healthy dose of “this is crazy!” All the problems of life are out there, on the other side of the flames and nothing is important except keeping the flames moving. There is nothing in life quite the same as voluntarily stepping inside a ball of flames, separated from you only by the length of your own arms. Everyone loves staring into a bonfire, imagining shapes and patterns in the sparks and dancing flames. We take it one step further by directing the flames, making sensuous, flowing movements and intricate designs, limited only by the control we have over our bodies and how much paraffin we brought.

One of the quirks of fire dancing is that everyone can see you. It is not possible to play with fire incognito, I know, I’ve tried. Fire does not come with a dimmer switch. Either you are flaming, or you are not. Combine the fact that it is impossible to fire dance inconspicuously, with the magnetic attraction flames have for most people, and even the most inept beginner soon has a gathering of awed onlookers. This can be quite intimidating, especially if you are not confident in your own abilities. The upside is, unless you are predisposed to wrapping the poi around your head, usually resulting in the unmistakable smell of singed hair and some mild cursing, you can look quite skilled as long as you have mastered the basics. Like many forms of dance, the real trick is to make it look easy.

There are as many different styles of fire dancing as there are types of fire toys. Some people prefer heavy poi, perfect for sharp stops and redirections, mathematically precise moves that seem more like optical illusions than dance moves. Others like to go with the flow, choosing lighter poi that waft gently through the air, seemingly undirected by the dancer. These appeal to the fire fairies amongst us, waif like creatures that shimmy through the crowds, usually leaving a trail of body glitter wherever they go. Then there are the macho type who chose poi with handles especially designed to be thrown high in the air whilst the dancer does forward rolls and back flips. Impressive to watch and just a little dangerous to have around the house, these dancers, male and female, have six pack abs and discrete burn scars. Fire fans, flaming snakes, fire darts, whips, and double headed poi are all options, creating awe inspiring visuals and far reaching heat waves.

Some people have one set of poi and these become like extensions of their arms. Others get bored quickly and charge through variations as fast as their credit cards will allow. Me, I like to have lots of toys. I crave different poi like others crave gourmet food. They don’t need to be expensive, but they must be hardy and reliable. Broken poi are a real mood killer. I want to be able to match the poi with the music, the venue, the atmosphere and my own mercurial moods. Fast music needs heavy poi that respond quickly to commands. Lighter weight poi will drift alongside the late night ballads. There is nothing like fire snakes to make the world notice you.

Poi dancing can be gentle, seductive, aggressive, provocative, meditative and an aphrodisiac. Control over one’s hips and core muscles make for good sex and better poi-ing. Combine sensuous moves and the heat and sounds of fire and almost anyone is attracted. Poi as an art form can be used to express any emotion. At the same time, your own personality will under lie your dance style and it is not un common to be able to identify who is poi-ing just by the way they dance. Interestingly, shy people often find poi, and especially fire poi, help them to come out of their shell and discover their sensuality. No one knows – or really cares – that you can’t make small talk if you can make fire dance like a voluptuous woman.

For me, poi is part dance and mostly meditation. Sure, I have on occasion used my abilities to get the attention of the cute fellow in the corner, and I have been known to sell my skills as a performer, payment coming in the form of an envelope of cash and the occasional tequila, but the majority of the time I dance for myself. You are welcome to watch if you wish, but I’m not dancing for your entertainment as much as for the sheer thrill of dancing. Meditation in the conventional sense has never appealed to me. It is too stationary, too restrictive, just plainly too boring. Fire dancing on the other hand is fluid, energetic and extremely controlled at the same time. When one is truly in tune with the poi, the mind seems to split. One half is completely focused on keeping the spinning orbs spinning as they should, and the other half heads off into the wilds of the human mind. Like tai chi and martial arts, the control is such that it becomes second nature. Repeatedly making the same moves turns simple actions into ritual. As with spirituality, meditation is a uniquely personal experience. I dance in joy, in celebration, when I’m searching for answers and when I’m in mourning. Fire is used by the religions of the world for various aspects of purity, cleansing, healing and supplication. I can relate to this. I use fire to protect, to embrace, enveloping me in a sacred space that I created! Occasionally I’ll open the circle, inviting someone into what has been dubbed a “fire hug”, which is basically dancing around someone else. Mostly though, I dance alone in my bubble. As I say, you are most welcome to watch, but forgive me if I don’t notice that you are there.