the right passion
Why haven't I been dancing all this time? What cruel hole in my brain made me wait and procrastinate and waver and doubt? Why these blank and then these dazzling miraculous tides?
I have to dance. I AM dance. My heart is movement. My breath is meant to heave and flash.
I've blamed late hours. I've blamed plateaus. I blamed a light wallet, geography, and a preponderance of the wrong classes. I blamed my lack of experience, my late start, anything I could. What I could have been doing was dancing.
Here, in the basement. There, in the street. Out in the field. In a studio. At dances. In small ways between moments and as large as possible when nothing is in the way. It's clear to me now that so many of the things I do are stand-ins for deeper movement. Juggling, fire spinning, sleight of hand are all pale ghosts of dance, and sometimes even become dancing (poi spinning to a blistering song), but they aren't enough.
Now I have four stitches in my back and a troublesome ankle, and I'm even more frustrated by inertia's weight (and doctor's orders to avoid strenuous activity). I want to be moving, gleaming, breaking open this shell.
The best time to start (or start again) is never tomorrow or next week.
It's now now now now now--
I have to dance. I AM dance. My heart is movement. My breath is meant to heave and flash.
I've blamed late hours. I've blamed plateaus. I blamed a light wallet, geography, and a preponderance of the wrong classes. I blamed my lack of experience, my late start, anything I could. What I could have been doing was dancing.
Here, in the basement. There, in the street. Out in the field. In a studio. At dances. In small ways between moments and as large as possible when nothing is in the way. It's clear to me now that so many of the things I do are stand-ins for deeper movement. Juggling, fire spinning, sleight of hand are all pale ghosts of dance, and sometimes even become dancing (poi spinning to a blistering song), but they aren't enough.
Now I have four stitches in my back and a troublesome ankle, and I'm even more frustrated by inertia's weight (and doctor's orders to avoid strenuous activity). I want to be moving, gleaming, breaking open this shell.
The best time to start (or start again) is never tomorrow or next week.
It's now now now now now--