We were lucky to catch up with Ameia Mikula-Noble recently and have shared our conversation below.

Ameia, appreciate you joining us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.

Like everyone, I have a part of me I show the world and a part of me I keep to myself. It’s not as if I’m lying about who I am, but more so that it’s simpler to just be the light hearted entertainer, the younger sister who put on ‘funny shows’, or the tough one my parents didn’t need to worry about, as my grandfather would say, ‘no one is going to spit in her oatmeal’.
For most of my life, I leaned heavily into those sides of my personality, thinking it will make me more likable. Who doesn’t love a good laugh? And who wants to worry about hurting someone’s feelings? Plus, as someone pursuing a career in the performing arts, it seemed like the perfect combination, a performer with nerves of steel. Except, my aloof persona, because that’s how I came across when I never talked about anything serious or personal, put a barrier between me and others.
It worked while I was young, when steady nerves got me through countless piano and dance competitions, exams, and auditions. But as you get older, people stop being impressed by technique alone. They want personality and emotion from artists, vulnerability I didn’t show anyone, let alone strangers in an audience, let alone for it to be judged.
There wasn’t some grand disaster moment where I was forced to confront my limiting ways, it was a gradual, admittedly stubborn, process where I had to accept that I was holding myself back as everyone else around me flourished.
I’ve gone bungee jumping and sparred in Taekwondo tournaments, done things that could get me physically hurt if something went wrong, but simply allowing others to see the vulnerable side of me seems like a greater risk. What if I was just showing my weakness and someone took advantage? I guess that’s just a risk I have to take because censoring my own voice in an attempt to seek approval is meaningless.

Ameia, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I mentioned this earlier, but I’ve always been the kind of person who loved putting on shows for friends and family. I enjoyed making people laugh and performing, so it felt like a natural step when my parents enrolled me in ballet at age three. Admittedly, I didn’t love ballet at first, but that changed when I was placed in a more advanced class. Being challenged sparked my interest, and over time, I grew to love the discipline and the growth it offered.
What truly made me fall in love with dance, though, was the storytelling aspect. I’ve always been drawn to expressing emotions and sharing stories, and dance became the language in which I could do that. That same passion is what led me to writing. A lot of people assume that since I’m a dancer and writer, I write about dance, but that’s not the case for me. My passion for writing stems from a desire to build new worlds, create characters, and tell stories that resonate with readers. While the two disciplines influence each other, they are separate and equally important parts of my creative life.
The one way I would describe myself and how it sets me apart from others is that I’m very versatile. In addition to dance and writing, I’m classically trained in piano and do Taekwondo. I’ve studied classical piano since I was three and competed long before I started dance competitions. I hold a Grade 10 certificate from the Royal Conservatory of Music. I also hold a 1st Dan Black Belt in Taekwondo, which I began training in at 15 and continued to compete in through university. While my focus is now primarily on dance and writing, both music and martial arts have had a profound influence on my movement style, rhythm, and stories I want to tell.
Everything I do, choreographing, performing, or writing, is a chance to create something meaningful that will touch its audience.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

Art is the representation of a culture’s values and beliefs. When we go on vacation somewhere outside our country or culture, what do we normally visit? Museums, art galleries, live performances of cultural music, theatre, and dance. We bask in the historical architecture and cultural sites. When we come home we tell our friends and family about all the cultural things that we experienced.
However, despite the fact that art is culture, our modern Western society does not actively support the arts and artists. It is a cliché to say that professional athletes get paid hundreds of millions of dollars but virtually every arts organization is barely scraping by. This is not to say that sports do not have as important a role in society as culture, it is merely commentary that the relative contributions are disproportionate in modern times.
It would be fantastic if society could reprioritize the arts. I may be biased in saying this, but I believe it would make society as a whole happier and more pleasant for everyone. This could start by the government providing stable funding for arts organizations and artists. Governmental policies could provide incentives for individuals and corporations to sponsor the arts. For example, tax deductions could be provided for sponsoring the arts.
Sometimes I think about the incredible art that was created in the Renaissance by artists who were patrons of the Medic family. What kind of legacy will the current crop of tech billionaires leave?

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

I often joke and say ‘I’m not creative’ when I’m having trouble choreographing or writing. That usually gets a rise out of my non artist friends who are quick to remind me how much of my life revolves around creative work.
I’m fortunate that none of my friends are under the misguided notion that dancing and writing are just fun and games, but unless you’ve experienced it for yourself, you don’t understand how stressful the constant pressure to be inspired is. Deadlines don’t wait for creativity to strike. In fact, they usually make it a whole lot harder.
There’s a special kind of panic that comes from wandering around a studio, music playing, but my mind is completely blank. Or staring at an empty page as a deadline looms mere hours away, and a 2000 word story is nowhere in sight.
That’s not to say non-creatives don’t experience mental blocks, but when your work relies so heavily, and so consistently, on fresh ideas and original expression, it’s not as simple as just buckling down and grinding it out.
That said, I have learned how to encourage my creativity, so to speak, and I know that if I keep showing up, something will eventually click. Plus, the struggle is always worth it, because creating something that’s entirely my own remains one of the most rewarding feelings I know.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://ameiamikulanoble.com
• Instagram: Ameia_mmn
• Linkedin: Ameia Mikula-Noble

Image Credits

The headshot and white dress photos were taken by Rachel Nevill Studios, the white pants photo was taken by Melissa Blackall (courtesy of Boston Dance Theater), and the white pants and green top arabesque photo was taken by Liv Lopez.