Today we’d like to introduce you to Elle Eclectica.
Elle, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
I was both the mud-covered tomboy swinging on the monkey bars (or at least, making a valiant effort) and the timid little ballerina draped in pink. I eagerly read everything I could about animals and science, but I also had an unavoidable artistic streak. My interests could barely be reigned in, something that rubbed many of my teachers and peers the wrong way. I was a complete Hermione — raising my hand to every question and taking up every activity I could. (If only I’d had a Time-Turner.)
My parents enrolled me in dance and pottery classes, as well as 4-H, Girl Scouts, and various science summer camps. But despite having so many interests and budding skills, I never quite felt that I belonged anywhere. My huge appetite for knowledge waned as people quickly started to box me in. I learned young that people only value your creativity if they can monetize it — and that being artsy and geeky made me weird.
Add in my diagnosis of OCD and depression at age 12, and it wasn’t long before I began to stifle my creative urges. I wanted to be “normal,” whatever that meant.
In high school, I got bitten by the theatre bug. This was a realm where everyone had a role and my artistic side wasn’t something to be mocked or discouraged. At least — at first. My teacher was anything but equitable toward us. As she favored the pretty, popular kids, I fell back into the same hole, wondering why I had this urge to sing and dance if no one cared to nurture my skills. My teacher simply mocked me for not being able to do a split and told me my voice wasn’t strong enough for musical theatre. Years later, someone I’d admired would echo this idea, telling me that I didn’t belong in the performing arts.
Over the next 15 years, I bounced between the arts and the sciences. I dreamed of being a filmmaker, whether for science documentaries or science fiction. I knew I wanted to forge a connection between these two fields that so many people mistakenly considered to be opposites. In university theatre, I nurtured that instinct as a I gained a passion for props mastery and sound design. This was the time when I learned my superpower: the ability to master chaos. My shining college moment was my invitation to help debut “Scrubs” producer Deborah Fordham’s first play at a major theatre festival.
For a moment, life seemed grand and full of potential. My only regret was that I still wasn’t a performer, and I had no opportunity to truly refine my skills. When I auditioned for /Show Boat/, I saw my peers mocking my poor form. My advisors told me I couldn’t take dance classes, so I resigned myself to being clumsy.
Besides, I was busy. In my typical fashion, I’d bitten off a huge chunk of college courses and was pursuing a double degree: a BFA in Theatre Arts and a BA in Anthropology. My anthropology education completely shifted my perspective and gave me an undying thirst to learn about every form of cultural expression and its impact on society.
Unfortunately, I graduated during the Great Recession, when jobs were far and few between. Working a soul-crushing job at PetSmart, I again wondered where my path would lead. I applied to film school but was rejected. I explored various industries but could never quite find something that brought together my dual experience.
So, I carved my own path, taking on various roles in marketing and communications as I pursued my theatre career. My vision was to blend anthropology and theatre, leveraging this ancient art form to empower social change. After moving to Gainesville, FL in 2010, I became the Production Manager at a local alternative theatre, where I served on the board and co-produced everything from /Hamlet/ to /The Elephant Man/ to my own Dîa de los Muertos-themed anthology play. I wrote grants for that theatre and developed its community arts education program. Meanwhile, I also volunteered for the VA’s applied theatre program to help rehabilitate disabled veterans. The future seemed bright and remarkable as I truly realized arts’ capacity for change.
Then it all came crashing down. In early 2013, I became embroiled with a local performer who initially seemed like a charming, loving gentleman. The dream quickly devolved into a nightmare as he began exhibiting controlling behaviors. Every one of my attempts to escape, he countered with extreme manipulation, worming himself into every aspect of my life. It wasn’t long before he became emotionally and sexually abusive, chipping away at my self-esteem and creating a situation where I felt completely trapped. After enough gaslighting, I had no resolve to escape.
That year was the most miserable of my life. It destroyed my sense of bodily autonomy, my creative passion, my belief in my own abilities. It took a long time to wake up, and by then, he had sullied my name in my theatre and driven me into hiding.
Yet that abuse ultimately inspired my magnum opus: my Red Soul Days festival, a series of variety shows, art exhibitions, and concerts to raise funds for anti-violence organizations. I witnessed firsthand the transformation and catharsis that our society’s most vulnerable people felt when they saw artistic representations of their struggles. And together, we raised thousands of dollars for the local domestic violence shelter.
Red Soul Days eventually evolved into DreamQuilt, my alternative applied theatre agency that cultivated social justice and gave a voice to marginalized, underrepresented creators. The agency produced local arts & crafts fairs, health-conscious arts education, and charitable events featuring minority dancers, singers, and acrobats.
Meanwhile, I was exploring the worlds of burlesque and aerial dance, which were becoming popular in Gainesville. Both were transformative in their own way. Aerial dance was a way for me to dance without recalling my university theatre peers’ mockery or high school drama teachers naysaying. It was also a pursuit of strength, which was unheard of in my skinny, non-athletic body. Except for a brief stint as a sprinter and basketball player in middle school, I’d worked out maybe once in a blue moon.
The aerial arts gave me a chance to take flight — both literally and figuratively. I felt a new power surging through my power, the ability to defy gravity … and my own expectations. And as I recalled my abuser’s attacks, I began to celebrate my budding strength more and more. After a few months of training at Gainesville Circus Center, I knew that I was so much stronger than he could ever be.
Meanwhile, burlesque helped me reclaim my sensuality after sexual abuse. Something about leveraging my movement for power on stage, safe from touch, restored my sense of safety. And it ignited a powerful need to tell a story through my body — a skill that we have long lost. As an eager student of cultural history, I was absolutely fascinated by Gypsy Rose Lee, Josephine Baker, and other icons who defied the patriarchy and transformed their lives with this spectacular combination of classic dance and scintillating presentations.
With a couple of friends, I co-founded a neo-burlesque troupe where we each blended our unique talents with this incredible art form. For a few magical shows, we were on top of the world. Sadly, the honeymoon was short-lived as our producer expelled one of our top performers, and then me. I never did find out why, but it was the worst breakup of my life. Worse, she slandered me to other performers.
Thankfully, I still had my circus school. From Lyra (aerial hoop) to trapeze to silks to hammock (sling) to rope to straps, I explored many different apparatuses and geeked out over all the incredible skills and tricks. Within a few years, I was performing regularly on trapeze and Lyra, and I taught trapeze and silks. Few things brought me more joy than to take to the skies, weaving an invisible web while performing jaw-dropping feats of strength.
I was at home when I was in the air — and as my students showed me, I was in an amazing position to both share my knowledge and motivate others on their journey.
To pursue a new career in marketing and hopefully get more aerial gigs, I relocated to Orlando in early 2019. Within the first year, I’d joined a burlesque troupe, Corsets, and Cuties, that adored the art of cabaret as much as I did. I trained aerial as much I could, although my opportunities were limited, especially once COVID hit. And when I did finally return, I’d unknowingly developed Repetitive Strain Injury (RSI) … and during a routine training, I tore my distal triceps tendon — a rare, horrifically painful, and disgusting injury that instantly disabled my left arm.
I was absolutely devastated. For years, aerial had been the only constant in my life. The thought of never being able to fly again sent me into a deep depression. I went into debt paying for physical therapy, desperate to recover my strength.
There’s something to be said for passion because my recovery time was much less than predicted. Over time, I regained function of my arm — and came back stronger than ever. This experience inspired me to pursue a career as a personal trainer who understands the demands of circus arts. My goal is to help aerialists and acrobats avoid debilitating injuries by learning proper conditioning techniques. Soon, I’ll be performing and teaching aerial again — and I’m so thrilled to be able to introduce more people to this empowering art form. Thanks to my marketing experience, I’ve been building a fitness channel, Elevate With Elle, that helps aerialists with ground exercises and shares circus-inspired workouts with everyone who wants to get strong.
Meanwhile, I’ve launched my own marketing agency, Lyra Creative Studios, to help performing arts companies and other purpose-driven organizations elevate their brand. In fact, Gainesville Circus Center is now one of my clients!
And as for burlesque, I’ve become the stage manager of Corsets and Cuties, and I recently graduated from the Burlesque Conservatory run by the Big Bang Boom Collective. Burlesque has once again become a transformative force in my life.
My story is one of resilience. When life gives you lemons, slice them up and take ‘em with a shot of tequila. The world often strives to knock us down, but we creative people can and will persist. When your heart is true, your dreams can become reality … although they may take an unexpected path.
I am now developing my unique “acroburly” fitness brand and leveraging my stage management, design, and performance skills across various performance styles. Plus, I’m able to pursue my marketing/writing career to support these vital art forms — and yep, there’s some science in there. And if it’s ever not enough, I can always bust out my Ellen Ripley burlesque routine and honor my science fiction fandom.
It’s been a long journey, but somehow, I’ve found the nexus of art and science, theatre and dance, marketing and performance.
And I couldn’t be happier.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way? Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
My challenges have been many.
First, as a neurodivergent entrepreneur and performer, I have faced multiple obstacles in my mental health. People like to assume that we can simply overcome things like depression, anxiety, and neurotic behavior with willpower, but let me assure you: I, and many people I know, have more desire and passion than hundreds of folks combined, and we still struggle to put our goals into action. People should be super appreciative of what we create — because more often than not, it was an Olympian effort.
I was diagnosed with OCD and chronic depressive disorder at a young age. Eventually, those led to social phobia and generalized anxiety disorder, because as you can imagine, people act like you’re crazy if you don’t behave like they do. As a teenager, a local evangelical boy gained my friendship only to turn on me when he learned I had OCD because that was a “devil’s disease.” He sullied my name and became my first emotional abuser, telling everyone I was a “witch” who used a Ouija board. (Joke’s on him: I’m a proud witch and am wearing a planchette shirt as I type this.)
And yet, my anxiety, depression, and OCD have definitely inhibited my ability to pursue my goals. IT is difficult to show up for classes or practice your craft — let alone refine your skills — when your brain is throwing up walls at each step. Recently, I have learned that I most likely have ADHD as well, which is vastly under-diagnosed in females and can cause serious overwhelm. As an artist, I have often struggled to overcome my feeling that my work is futile.
Sexism has also presented a set of all-too-familiar, horribly frustrating challenges. I have long seen cisgender males gain opportunity and acclaim over their female and nonbinary counterparts. As a woman in technical theatre, I essentially had to prove my ability to hold a screwdriver to work on any production. I was pushed hard toward costume and makeup design.
In the end, I did embrace these fields, and they are now my primary design skills. While I adore costuming and makeup artistry, I do wish that it were more socially acceptable for women to do properties and sound design.
Overall, the top challenge has been overcoming the naysayers. My high school drama teacher had zero interest in mentoring me, and she was bold enough to suggest that theatre was not right for me. My university theatre mentor passed away in a tragic motorcycle accident, and his successor was not too favorable toward me. And then there have been all the people who attempted to dissuade me from my pursuits, from art to anthropology.
That’s why I am 100% in support of aspiring performers, writers, and other creatives, because I know how much negative feedback they get. And I empathize with that feeling of self-doubt. As I grow my career as a personal trainer, aerial instructor, and creative coach, I am eager to affirm people’s goals and assure them that yes, they CAN pursue their dreams.
Naysayers be damned.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
Currently, I am a marketing specialist and brand strategist for creative people, an aerial performer and instructor, and a stage manager and performer in the world of burlesque and cabaret.
Aerial-wise, my specialties include lyra, silks, static trapeze, and dance trapeze. I am an expert in aerial theory, and I am skilled in teaching flows, technique, and artistry to my students. Upon recovering from my injury, I draw upon my anthropology education to bring in clear physiological guidance for safe aerial education. I’m eager to learn more about kinesiology and offer circus-friendly personal training for aspiring acrobats.
Theatre-wise, I am a vocalist, burlesque dancer, and performance artist blending cosplay, circus acrobatics, vaudeville, musical theatre, and the ecdysiast (stripping) arts. My acts are typically cosplay burlesque or
“nerdlesque,” with a strong emphasis on transformation and pantomime. I also incorporate my singing and acrobatic skills, along with my passion for visual storytelling. I create most of my costumes from scratch, as I am an experienced stitcher and quick-rigger thanks to my theatre experience.
I am most proud of my ability to unite diverse art forms to express a powerful social message. For example, my “Beauty and the Beast” transformation act explores the societal division between feminine etiquette and primal urges, while my “Bound By Love” trapeze act symbolizes the gripping effect of gaslighting and how we feel peer pressure to stay in toxic relationships.
What do you like and dislike about the city?
Even before I moved to Orlando, I loved this city. There is such a vibrant sense of expression and fulfillment like everyone has a voice to share and their voice will absolutely be heard. I have seen so many powerful creators share their messages via Fringe, events downtown, the various pop-up events, the incredible nightlife we have, and of course, all the impressive theatres and performance troupes. Even the theme parks, however artificial they are, gain life from the local performers who imbue those characters and concepts with an eager breath. The creative energy is just so strong here. I love walking around downtown or exploring different venues throughout the city because I can feel that energy buzzing beyond all the marketing and pretty looks. This city is truly creative, and that can’t be faked.
Pricing:
- $5 to join my Patreon for aerial and burlesque guidance
- $999 to get branding for your performing arts or education enterprise
- $219 for professional artist branding
Contact Info:
- Email: elle.eclectica@gmail.com
- Website: https://www.elle-eclectica.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elle.eclectica/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elle.eclectica
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3hG6V-wH31f4ssH1-hreag
Image Credits
Wings of Glory
Kim Elam
Mike Wacht
Mindy Miller
