if you know me... even a little... you know i love to dance. something about dancing makes me feel so free... and ridiculously happy... i think it's because when you are dancing you get to physically enjoy something that already makes me feel so good... music.
dancing is a way of connecting your whole body to a song. and when you are dancing... you can't think all that much. i think too much most of the time... so it's this freedom to stop thinking... and start moving... that releases me (and likely those of you out there that like to dance too) from reality for a spell. what an awesome feeling.
i have been plotting an art adventure now for about a year... i want to go to spain for a month to escape. and by escape i mean... dance in my own skin. i have been so busy the last couple of years... i feel my art slipping away from me... my day to day life is so full that when i do have a moment to collect my thoughts... the last thing i feel like doing is painting. i remember a time... when spending a night with some paint and some music... felt just as beautiful as dancing. so... i am going.
when i was a little girl... i loved to dance just as much as i do now. i was the little girl at the wedding... doing the hokey pokey and spinning around for hours until i fell down from exhaustion. that's pretty much how i am now. i went to a wedding dance a couple of years ago... two old friends were married and i had friends fly in from as far away as stockholm... people i love dearly... and have known for a lifetime... that all love to dance as much as i do... about halfway through the wedding dance... (in red patent leather high heels).... i twisted my ankle and came down weird on my foot... it hurt terribly... but nothing... and i mean nothing... was going to stop me from having that night of dancing with those people... and so i danced all night anyway... only to find out i had a broken foot in the morning... i don't regret it... at all.
i went home to visit my parents this weekend... and my mom said that when i was a little kid i was always trying to escape. i would just go out wandering around at all hours of the day or night. i ran away from home a lot... they installed a lock on the front door... that was taller than i was... so i used to bring a kitchen chair to the door and pop the latch... and run free anyway. i am guessing i was maybe 4 years old.... i remember this... and the feeling that i always wanted to go just a little further than i was allowed. i could never sleep well... i just kept imagining all of the things i was missing out on. i was and still am a terrible napper.
i guess what i am trying to say is... i think that for some people (and by some people i mean... i hope it's not just me).. really need to get lost to be found. sometimes the world around you is so loud... that the only way to quiet it down... is to dance... or in this case... go to a foreign country alone to get out of your comfort zone... mute your reality and give yourself the gift of time. i can't imagine what i would be like today... if whenever i wanted to spin around for an hour at a wedding when i was 5... someone told me to stop... instead everyone would cheer and smile... and marvel at my ability to dance all night long and not throw up.
i'll be honest... the endeavor of being all alone... in a strange place kinda does make me want to vomit. i think that's a good thing. i can't remember the last time i was so thrilled and afraid like this... and so... i believe it can only be good. in the long run.
also... on a side note... if you see someone doing something brave... wild... maybe think twice about telling them to stop. those people are only trying to be as much as they can... and do as much as they can... and they might feel just as scared or awkward as you about it... just tell them to keep on dancing!!!
dancing is a way of connecting your whole body to a song. and when you are dancing... you can't think all that much. i think too much most of the time... so it's this freedom to stop thinking... and start moving... that releases me (and likely those of you out there that like to dance too) from reality for a spell. what an awesome feeling.
i have been plotting an art adventure now for about a year... i want to go to spain for a month to escape. and by escape i mean... dance in my own skin. i have been so busy the last couple of years... i feel my art slipping away from me... my day to day life is so full that when i do have a moment to collect my thoughts... the last thing i feel like doing is painting. i remember a time... when spending a night with some paint and some music... felt just as beautiful as dancing. so... i am going.
when i was a little girl... i loved to dance just as much as i do now. i was the little girl at the wedding... doing the hokey pokey and spinning around for hours until i fell down from exhaustion. that's pretty much how i am now. i went to a wedding dance a couple of years ago... two old friends were married and i had friends fly in from as far away as stockholm... people i love dearly... and have known for a lifetime... that all love to dance as much as i do... about halfway through the wedding dance... (in red patent leather high heels).... i twisted my ankle and came down weird on my foot... it hurt terribly... but nothing... and i mean nothing... was going to stop me from having that night of dancing with those people... and so i danced all night anyway... only to find out i had a broken foot in the morning... i don't regret it... at all.
i went home to visit my parents this weekend... and my mom said that when i was a little kid i was always trying to escape. i would just go out wandering around at all hours of the day or night. i ran away from home a lot... they installed a lock on the front door... that was taller than i was... so i used to bring a kitchen chair to the door and pop the latch... and run free anyway. i am guessing i was maybe 4 years old.... i remember this... and the feeling that i always wanted to go just a little further than i was allowed. i could never sleep well... i just kept imagining all of the things i was missing out on. i was and still am a terrible napper.
i guess what i am trying to say is... i think that for some people (and by some people i mean... i hope it's not just me).. really need to get lost to be found. sometimes the world around you is so loud... that the only way to quiet it down... is to dance... or in this case... go to a foreign country alone to get out of your comfort zone... mute your reality and give yourself the gift of time. i can't imagine what i would be like today... if whenever i wanted to spin around for an hour at a wedding when i was 5... someone told me to stop... instead everyone would cheer and smile... and marvel at my ability to dance all night long and not throw up.
i'll be honest... the endeavor of being all alone... in a strange place kinda does make me want to vomit. i think that's a good thing. i can't remember the last time i was so thrilled and afraid like this... and so... i believe it can only be good. in the long run.
also... on a side note... if you see someone doing something brave... wild... maybe think twice about telling them to stop. those people are only trying to be as much as they can... and do as much as they can... and they might feel just as scared or awkward as you about it... just tell them to keep on dancing!!!
one more thing... that i haven't been able to shake from my brain since saturday night (at my parents house)...
when i was a little girl... my parents were also just babies... the fact that my mom and dad raised my sister and i... without injury and managed to teach us right from wrong... and how to love and be good human beings... is an amazing thing to me... my parents got married when they were so young... but they love eachother so much. more so today than ever before... it's inspiring. i feel very blessed to have two such amazing souls to come back home to... whenever i can carve out time for them... that i wish i had more of.
so... my parents are so cool. they met in highschool... different highschools... my dad used to have a hot rod car (actually he still has it)... when i was a little girl ... our "family car" wasn't a mini van... it was ... at different times... a plymouth duster (with racing stripes) and a firebird with a souped up stereo system that my mom used to listen to " The Cars" and my dad used to listen to "Hank Williams" on... i doubt they believe me when i say that i can remember being 3 or 4 or 5... but i really can... and the one thing i remember is how good that time was... the reason i am reminded of all of this now... is that i have been going on and on about dancing... and in the back of that firebird... when i was 4... i remember singing too loudly to this song... and thinking how happy i was that my parents loved eachother so much. i thought the song could've been written about me... dancing around like crazy... and about my parents (who were already married of course.... but when you are 4 you don't care about the details of a song).... two people i loved... that were in love.
also... before i sign off... i just want to say thank you to my mom... for recognizing a dream when she sees it... and helping me get there. even if it scares her. don't worry... i'll just be smiling and dancing...
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