Trusting my feet
My mouth is tart with the taste of sangria lingering on the backs of my teeth.
Hands are clapping.Spanish melodies are swimming through the air.
And up on stage, she dances.
She is an exercise in contrasts. Her face is cold, focused, disdainful, yet she moves passionately, with fire.
She could rip someone's heart out and stomp it to pieces on the hard floor without batting a lash and somehow make it look tempting to hand over your own.
He whispers to me "I can't tell if she is improvising or this is routine."
I murmur back "Isn't that the magic?"
I am envious of her feet. They take every step with utter certainty. Even if she only decided a moment prior the place in which they were landing, they hit the floor with the conviction of a thousand times practiced. As though she has profound confidence that every instant is exactly as it should be.
I want feet like this. Feet that sense where they are going, and even if a puddle appears before them, or they take a wrong turn, they do not pause-- they artfully swerve, without missing a beat. They do not stop to ponder the implications of the next step. They do not wonder if they should have detoured two blocks ago, or if it was worth the bother to even put on shoes today. They just trust the force propelling them to move.
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33 comments:
Now I wanna dance. And have some sangria.
Then you must commit yourself to training and learn the boundaries so you can dance along them, then smash right through them.
Or just dance like I do - assume that you are brilliant despite all evidence to the contrary. People will be enrapt, but for somewhat different reasons.
Such a great post, and it definitely makes me want to dance!
I know this feeling! I want tap dancers feet. When the curtain goes up on 42nd street I get chills! It's amazing what some people are able to do! :)
If only life were like dancing.
With dancing, any misstep has minimal consequences - you are in the moment and nothing else matters. In life, we learn to be so much more cautious - our minds intrude. But there are many wonderful moments of throwing caution to the wind - with no regrets.
I love that there is often orchestration to dancing, yet it appears so natural. Fluid. Without thought. If only we could all lead our lives that way, too!
Beautiful. Sounds like a true dancer.
Another Beautiful post! I dont dance either, because I"m not too sure of my feet.
Posts like this are why I read you...you have such a beautiful way of expressing things.
I gave up on dancing a long time ago when my mother put me in clogging lessons (ahhh) and I was horrible. I do envy some musicians, though. How fingers can move that fast or that complicated, I'll never know.
This is why I like running I think. The feet just take over, propelling me just a few more miles, a couple more blocks, until the finish line. They know where they're going.
I want feet like that too.
i only wish i could dance like that. and without the help of sweet alcohol rushing down my throat to ease the anxiety over the fact that i actually can't dance, at all.
i wish i had rhythm first! then maybe i could TRY to dance ;)
This is beautiful. I wish I had feet like that too.
I can dance (somewhat) but I can't do "zamba" - it is hard! And I've tried but feel totally clumsy when at it.
I want feet that don't trip over themselves.
Be careful what you wish for- no knowing where such feet would take you...
I think this was probably the motivation behind the rites of the bacchanalia and such things. One of the downside of Christianity was its suppression of emotional body rhythmics.
Perhaps you have an inner dancer to free?
I fear, in life, the only time this happens is during the flamenco.
The rest of the time, we're flying blind, eh?
what a fun post. now i really want some sangria though.
Yeah, I wish I could dance, too. Then again, that's not really toward the top of my "I wish I could ..." list. It's on it. Just in the middle somewhere.
Yoo-hoo! Princess!
Raoul show you how to move your feet...then your hips... then we have sweet sweet sexy music time yessss?
Beautifully written.
In light of what I wrote today over at The Craic though, I'm laughing my ass off :)
Thank you for reminding me what it is that I love about dancing. About being able to just move to the music, letting my feet guide me where it may want to go rather than my head, as it is often prone to doing.
Oh, I wish I could dance like that. I also would like some sangria, please and thank you.
we should all have feet like that. mine seem to be getting more confident the further i walk. but i'm not dancing yet, and no one is paying the price of admission.
sounds like flamenco! you have such a beautiful way you write. I'm so impressed!
"She is an exercise in contrasts."
I Love This.
I play guitar the exact same way. I trust my fingers and let fly my emotions and imagination. I'm a jammer, an improv-oriented musician. My tradition comes from jazz and the blues, though my favorites to play are all over the map. I can go from "Fire" by Hendrix to "Leper Messiah" by Metallica to "State of Love and Trust" by Pearl Jam back to "Hoochie Coochie Man" by Howlin' Wolf to "Honkey Tonk Prison" by George Jones and cap it off with "Crazy Train"; and then maybe an extra long version of "Stairway to Heaven". Or "Freebird". If you're good.
The funny thing is I learned to play guitar backwards. I learned the blues scales and how to solo before knowing how to pay solid rhythm. But it served me well, because I don't sound like anyone else. One's own style is of the utmost importance, especially to me. My old bands were much more original music oriented and cover tunes were an afterthought.
Yep, I miss my band days, can't ya tell! There's millions of bands around here, all trying to play the same vapid brand of pop-punk. I was sick of it after Green Day, to tell you the truth. My first band was original music and Nirvana cover tunes. Believe me, by the end of it I understood why he shot himself.
Know any bands who need a top notch guitar player? I don't take up a lot of space and I'm house broken. I write some descent verse, too.
As for the post, I have to say that a couple of drinks make the dancing a whole lot better. I can dance normally, but the added lubricant of a lemon drop or a Jager bomb or three really help out on the old coordination. So fear not the dance floor, Princess. The grand ball awaits your steps.
And yes, it is magic, too.
Especially when I remember that I really don't know how to dance!
I totally get the life metaphor in "Feet that sense where they are going, and even if a puddle appears before them, or they take a wrong turn, they do not pause-- they artfully swerve, without missing a beat. They do not stop to ponder the implications of the next step. They do not wonder if they should have detoured two blocks ago, or if it was worth the bother to even put on shoes today. They just trust the force propelling them to move."
To move through life like that would be wonderful indeed!
"(which is not the type that, say, spend 40 pages discussing the commonalities between efficacious treatments for borderline personality disorder. Sigh.)"
You have such a wicked way with words, lady. Even when speaking clinically, you're vastly interesting and entertaining.
No worries at all! I'll keep up the banter at my end and you do what you have to do. We have plenty of time to ramble on about anything under or over the winds.
Amazing writing, and the sangria doesn't hurt either.
i am so envious of great dancers. it's a real gift.
Great post. I want a heart like that. ;)
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