Chrissy Cox is a fire dancer with Sirena Serpentina in Long Beach.
How did you start doing this?
I was self-taught. There aren't many schools for this yet. I saw a friend do it, and I thought it was so beautiful. A lot of people learn by watching, or they need to seek out a teacher, somebody to be like a master. I learn more by doing. I started with staff twirling. I made my own staff by cutting the end off a broom. It was unlit, and I worked my way up to fire. I figured out poi later.
Poi?
That's when you have the flaming balls on the end of chains, and you twirl them around.
What's fire dancing for?
Fire dancing goes back centuries. Women used it as a means of seduction, men used it to train as warriors. It's really gotten popularized in this country by Burning Man—they do what they call “spin camps” with lots of people. It's spreading everywhere from there. It's great. I've never been to Burning Man, though.
Why not?
Well . . . I dunno! It's out in the desert, it's hot, it's far away. And I'm a mom. I know it's more family-friendly now, but still, my little girl is just past two.
Does she watch you perform? Is she scared?
She watches me practice in the back yard, with unlit torches. She said the other day, “My mommy plays with fire!” So cute.
Does she understand fire is dangerous?
I don't think so. She's too little. She just thinks it's pretty.
Do you think she'll want to do this at some point?
It wouldn't surprise me. But not until she's closer to being an adult. Little kids aren't coordinated enough for this. My parents definitely wouldn't have wanted me to do this when I was a kid.
What do your parents think of it now?
They're pretty conservative . . . so maybe this is my form of rebellion! [Laughs.] I've been working on them since I was a kid, when I was a skateboarder. They think this is great. They're proud of me.
Did it take a while to win them over?
Not really. They can appreciate this as an art form. I've been doing it for about six years, so they're used to it.
Where do you perform, mostly? Is it like parties or weddings?
Festivals, parties, weddings, luaus . . . we've performed in the street. We just have to watch out for cars. We were going to perform recently at a gallery for women in Long Beach, but when we got there, the performance space was an enclosed patio. We didn't feel comfortable with that, so we left.
You don't perform indoors?
You have to worry about carbon monoxide. And it's more enclosed, so there's more of a chance you could hit something and start a fire.
Have you ever had an accident?
Nothing serious. I know a girl whose chain broke off at a wedding, and the flaming ball went flying across the room. I think the guests thought it was part of the show. I've hit myself in the face.
Yowch!
Well, skin doesn't burn right away. It's like how you can pass your finger through a candle flame, if you're quick. What you really have to worry about is stuff like clothing and hair. I wet my hair before I perform and I put it in a tight braid, but I have dry, wiry hair and it always gets singed anyway. I'll singe the hair on my arms. Usually I notice any burns afterwards; I don't feel them at the time. You play with fire, you're gonna get burned.
Do you do this full-time?
I've also taught fifth grade for seven years.
Do the kids know about the fire dancing?
I've shown them poi with unlit tennis balls. Some of the girls tried it, and it's amazing: these skills are so innate with children. The other teachers know, too. I'm, like, the cool teacher. I'm going to be teaching some poi classes. I wanna combine my two careers. That's really important to me.
Where are you teaching poi?
I can say where?
Sure.
El Dorado Park. [Giggles.] It's like a plug!
Do you get heckled by drunks at parties? Do people try to get into the act?
Sure, sometimes people are like, “More fire!” You heckle back, or just wink at them. At a party a while ago, this guy was like, “That looks easy!” I held the staff out to him, and I said, “Okay, you try it!” He just laughed and backed away. “No thanks!” If somebody's being too disrespectful, I'll leave.
Does fire dancing ever become routine? Like, “God, eight more minutes and I'm out of here”?
Only if somebody's being rude. Otherwise, I'm too focused on what I'm doing.
With all that belly dancing and fire and stuff, do guys hit on you a lot?
Sometimes I hear seedy comments when I'm dancing. But they don't say much after I'm done performing. I don't know if they're awed or afraid or what. Maybe they figure I've heard it all before, and they don't want to look starstruck. We're usually surrounded by people we know anyway, so maybe it's hard to approach us.
Do you ever freak out in the middle of a performance? Does the reality ever hit you, like, “Oh my God! Fire is whizzing around my head!”
Never. From the very first time, I was addicted. It makes me feel connected to the Earth, to the elements. Fire brings life, you know? And fire clears the way forward.
