Jesi arrived in her big boots to dance last night. She’s a tall girl, a foot taller than me, and her boots laced up to her knees. Ox-blood Docs, of course. Second-hand and two sizes too big, to make room for two pairs of thick wool socks. R & I stretched on her tiny kitchen’s floor while Jesi unlaced, unbuckled, and shed three layers of cloth. Since her van broke down she gets around on her bicycle, and she works late at the W.O.W. Hall during concerts, so she was bundled up for riding after midnight in the 35 degree rain.
We talked about Spain & Morocco, and about men and happiness and people who won’t take a hint, about how dancing gives us strength and balance in both body and mind, and about when to meet next for more practice and discussion of costumes and fine details.
This coming Saturday we’ll meet at the dance studio and make use of the big floor and mirrors. We’ve gotten very good at dancing close together in R’s small kitchen, which is maybe 10 feet by 7 feet. I’m curious how we’ll do without the confines of kitchen walls and cabinets.
We ran through the whole thing five times, getting to a comfortable level with all the moves, and beginning our focus on details like hand and foot positions. The second time I was struck by how… bewitching… we look. Especially during one long part of the song we join hands and swirl around in a circle facing in, then we all turn and face out, still traveling in the same direction, hands joined. When the musical phrase changes, we stop and turn again, pause and all in synchronicity we bring one hand in, the other up, and travel in a circle the other direction.
Very mesmerizing, very dramatic. We smile and step in time to the big drum.
It would look incredible from a bird’s eye view, the circles within circles and foot patterns on the floor like some intricate flower. It raises the energy level in R’s small kitchen, it lifts our spirits, it swings our hair and our skirts, and it surely would have gotten us burnt at the stake in Salem 300 years ago.
But we are just dancing, and we are full of balance and strength and companionship.
We talked about Spain & Morocco, and about men and happiness and people who won’t take a hint, about how dancing gives us strength and balance in both body and mind, and about when to meet next for more practice and discussion of costumes and fine details.
This coming Saturday we’ll meet at the dance studio and make use of the big floor and mirrors. We’ve gotten very good at dancing close together in R’s small kitchen, which is maybe 10 feet by 7 feet. I’m curious how we’ll do without the confines of kitchen walls and cabinets.
We ran through the whole thing five times, getting to a comfortable level with all the moves, and beginning our focus on details like hand and foot positions. The second time I was struck by how… bewitching… we look. Especially during one long part of the song we join hands and swirl around in a circle facing in, then we all turn and face out, still traveling in the same direction, hands joined. When the musical phrase changes, we stop and turn again, pause and all in synchronicity we bring one hand in, the other up, and travel in a circle the other direction.
Very mesmerizing, very dramatic. We smile and step in time to the big drum.
It would look incredible from a bird’s eye view, the circles within circles and foot patterns on the floor like some intricate flower. It raises the energy level in R’s small kitchen, it lifts our spirits, it swings our hair and our skirts, and it surely would have gotten us burnt at the stake in Salem 300 years ago.
But we are just dancing, and we are full of balance and strength and companionship.
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