ladysprite (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladysprite) wrote2001-12-20 12:27 am
ladysprite) wrote2001-12-20 12:27 am
Entry tags:
Finding my place
It had been way too long since I last went out dancing - almost a year, if I recall correctly. So when my friend M, who is assistant director for the play I'm in, invited me out after rehearsal tonight, I decided to go. I almost didn't, since I'm fighting a cold and have to work tomorrow, but the offer was tempting enough that I grabbed the first appropriate clothes I could find (black velvet hip-hugger jeans that, after coming out of the wash, are almost too tight to wear and a velvet-and-brocade top that's more empty space than fabric, but swirls beautifully when I spin) and tagged along. Gods, I'm so glad I did...
I've been spending most of my time lately in other people's areas of expertise. During the day, at work, I'm surrounded by half a dozen other vets with many years more experience, and heaps more confidence and skill. My circle of friends is largely made up of musicians, all of whom are more talented than I, and at rehearsal I'm in the middle of a group of actors who are far more experienced, trained, and comfortable than I can imagine being. I know I'm a good doctor and a decent actor, and I've been told I'm a passable singer, but that doesn't change the fact that in all those areas I'm at the bottom of the ladder. I don't stand out. Usually it doesn't matter, but every once in a while it's nice to shine.
Tonight, within two beats of wading into the ocean of velvet and vinyl, I knew I was home. This is *my* place, my time. The music speaks to me, my heart pounding with the beat, my blood flowing in time, my body moving in ways that my conscious mind can't control - hips swinging, arms twining, shoulder swaying... I'm peripherally aware of the other dancers, enough to keep from bumping into them and to appreciate the patterns we make, sometimes working with them, weaving in and out of each other's dances. Sometimes I have half an eye on them, watching their moves and the way they dance, realizing that I could dance rings around them if I wanted to.... I can feel the eyes on me, too, and it's intoxicating in a way. I'm dancing for myself, no worries, no thought, no competition, but it feels good to know that, if it mattered, I'm being noticed.
Of course, it ended far too soon. I left after just a couple of hours, knowing that if I allowed myself to stay until the floor was full and the DJ was in his prime, I'd never escape before last call. And now I reek of cigarrette smoke, my eyes and throat are burning, and my calves will protest tomorrow, and it was utterly worth it. I can't wait to go again in two weeks... completely aside from the ego-boost, it feels good to move, to let my mind go and my body take over.....
I've been spending most of my time lately in other people's areas of expertise. During the day, at work, I'm surrounded by half a dozen other vets with many years more experience, and heaps more confidence and skill. My circle of friends is largely made up of musicians, all of whom are more talented than I, and at rehearsal I'm in the middle of a group of actors who are far more experienced, trained, and comfortable than I can imagine being. I know I'm a good doctor and a decent actor, and I've been told I'm a passable singer, but that doesn't change the fact that in all those areas I'm at the bottom of the ladder. I don't stand out. Usually it doesn't matter, but every once in a while it's nice to shine.
Tonight, within two beats of wading into the ocean of velvet and vinyl, I knew I was home. This is *my* place, my time. The music speaks to me, my heart pounding with the beat, my blood flowing in time, my body moving in ways that my conscious mind can't control - hips swinging, arms twining, shoulder swaying... I'm peripherally aware of the other dancers, enough to keep from bumping into them and to appreciate the patterns we make, sometimes working with them, weaving in and out of each other's dances. Sometimes I have half an eye on them, watching their moves and the way they dance, realizing that I could dance rings around them if I wanted to.... I can feel the eyes on me, too, and it's intoxicating in a way. I'm dancing for myself, no worries, no thought, no competition, but it feels good to know that, if it mattered, I'm being noticed.
Of course, it ended far too soon. I left after just a couple of hours, knowing that if I allowed myself to stay until the floor was full and the DJ was in his prime, I'd never escape before last call. And now I reek of cigarrette smoke, my eyes and throat are burning, and my calves will protest tomorrow, and it was utterly worth it. I can't wait to go again in two weeks... completely aside from the ego-boost, it feels good to move, to let my mind go and my body take over.....
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-Bill
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Any time you'd like company at the club, just let me know. I'd be delighted to have another chance to watch you dance.
Along those lines, there is a goth/industrial night in Northampton MA on tuesdays called Sin:Thesis that I've been going to for a while. IT's a fun place and I've been told by ppl who actually dance that the DJ is pretty good. If you'd ever like to join me there just let me know."
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Right now it looks like I'll be heading to Man Ray's most Wednesday nights after rehearsal, so you're more than welcome to join me...
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I'd love to go dance.