Last night we went to a nightclub S decided was "overly swanky" although he was tickled by the black cushioned recessed booths and the little red star stamp on his hand. The band played better than I've heard in a while and I think we all fell in love a little with the beautiful woman who played her jangly saz and sang Turkish love songs. The place was packed & S ordered a bottle of house red & some tapas dishes, roast artichoke, pepitas, bread with tomato and mozzarella. I saw familiar smiles around the room and we shared our corner with Jesi & her folks, out celebrating her mom's birthday.
The first dancer hit the floor like a flame and flickered through the three songs played for her. I'd never seen her before but she was a vision in her red and orange beaded costume that matched her fiery mane of hair, pre-Raphaelite and pale, hands like graceful birds. Her skirt was a long flowing drape of wine-colored velvet that swirled and swayed with her movements and I caught exciting glimpses of her bare feet. She exited with grace and a kiss for the crowd and much applause.
My instructor danced next, as always with great drama and seduction, exquisite timing, beautiful expression. Her movements, always so controlled, leave only grace and beauty to accident. She commanded attention and filled the floor with her shimmying presence, doing best what she does best, matching the music to her soul and magnifying it with her physical being. She's also a huge flirt, and charmed us all with her wink and smile.
I love the part when she matches the drum beats with her hips, the taps, the booms, the rolls of fingers across the tabla drum's head and the roll of shimmying skin across her hips, the picture of stamina and embodiment of rhythm. She feigned looking at her watch, she pretended to mop her brow with her hand, she crossed her arms and cocked her head at the drummer, who also happens to be her husband, and she never stopped the shimmy. I love the playfulness with which she approaches the dance, and her sense of fun.
Tomorrow morning will find me with my own beginning bellydancing class; I feel some minor stress and a lot of excitement about this endeavor. Teaching will teach me much, I know. Driving to work this morning I considered my education and where I am now... if, after I received my English & linguistics degree, someone had told me I would attain the equivalent of a Master's in Middle Eastern dance I would have died laughing. But here I am, four years into it and beginning to teach. Strange how the world goes rolling. I hope I'm a good teacher. Wish me luck.
The first dancer hit the floor like a flame and flickered through the three songs played for her. I'd never seen her before but she was a vision in her red and orange beaded costume that matched her fiery mane of hair, pre-Raphaelite and pale, hands like graceful birds. Her skirt was a long flowing drape of wine-colored velvet that swirled and swayed with her movements and I caught exciting glimpses of her bare feet. She exited with grace and a kiss for the crowd and much applause.
My instructor danced next, as always with great drama and seduction, exquisite timing, beautiful expression. Her movements, always so controlled, leave only grace and beauty to accident. She commanded attention and filled the floor with her shimmying presence, doing best what she does best, matching the music to her soul and magnifying it with her physical being. She's also a huge flirt, and charmed us all with her wink and smile.
I love the part when she matches the drum beats with her hips, the taps, the booms, the rolls of fingers across the tabla drum's head and the roll of shimmying skin across her hips, the picture of stamina and embodiment of rhythm. She feigned looking at her watch, she pretended to mop her brow with her hand, she crossed her arms and cocked her head at the drummer, who also happens to be her husband, and she never stopped the shimmy. I love the playfulness with which she approaches the dance, and her sense of fun.
Tomorrow morning will find me with my own beginning bellydancing class; I feel some minor stress and a lot of excitement about this endeavor. Teaching will teach me much, I know. Driving to work this morning I considered my education and where I am now... if, after I received my English & linguistics degree, someone had told me I would attain the equivalent of a Master's in Middle Eastern dance I would have died laughing. But here I am, four years into it and beginning to teach. Strange how the world goes rolling. I hope I'm a good teacher. Wish me luck.
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