Falling

So although as a girl and into teenage-hood I wanted to be a dancer (of course! along with that other little-girl dream almost non-negotiable: to own a pony...but that's another story altogether, made up for quite nicely by riding other things, er, like bicycles and stuff), I realize in retrospect that this had a lot to do with the clothing...the ratty kind...leg warmers, sweaters wrapped around arms and torso, scuffed leather ballet shoes (pink or black). While I took a minor in dance in junior college, my discipline to avoid drunken nights at the bar in order to get up early and have my body go through the rigors was not at all up to the task, so I became a rock journalist instead. Totally logical.

But it's also become clear, having found myself back in the world of movement well beyond the age when I'd entertain dreams of being a part of any corps de ballet, that experience is the thing that moves inside out. That every moment I've lived has been processed and is now expressed through the moves I make inside a dance studio. Most especially a darkened studio in NYC where expressing the beauty of every curve, thrust, im- and ex-plosion is nurtured and spurred on. I also recognize it when I see dance. In this almost-over year of 2009, I was lucky enough to see some live performances that left me shaken. Moved me to tears. Made me want to run away and join the circus, so to speak.

So I'm left speechless by the power of movement and what better way to be speechless than to start a blog about having no words. To dance toward it, stumble on and around it, stub my proverbial toes--all of them. Then hold it, fall down and breathe it back to life. I'll give it a try. Whatever that it is.

This weekend I saw an Alvin Ailey performance with my merry band of dance luvahs and discovered that dissonent pairings that tell a story speak to me: bodies bent, twirling, bound, flying and stopped midair make me crazy-happy. See the link below for my favorite of the night: "Episodes" and take in what Ulysses Dove, the choreographer, says about what he wanted to express with this piece: "Life so fully lived that each episode in life is complete." And away we go...

http://thepi.prorsumimagist.com/?p=673