Dancing

Today while mowing the lawn I had the sudden impulse to shirk the rest of the tall grass in favor of busting out in some serious dancing. And since I could not leave the grass uncut, I simply thought about dancing and what it is about it that makes my hair stand on end at just the thought of good music.....

It's not like I am good. However, as Lady Catherine has said, "if I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient." *scoffs at self* There is something that to this day, though I do not dance as much, that thrill me about dancing.....

I think it is because when I danced it was me being something other than myself. And every part of me down to my fingers and toes were an extension of what I wanted to portray. Like my arms were the strings and my feet the drums. I felt like I was the music. I was the art.

A little conceited? maybe. But for me it was a lovely dream, something I remember distantly now, that I try to recreate.....But unfortunately, I do not have the stamina anymore to dance for hours......Nor the mind to.

Still, I feel almost the same way while writing fiction. When you create everything down to the color of the sky and the temperature of the air and the taste left in the character's mouth after it eats some good corn chowder. And while you go through the motions of other sections of your life, all you are really seeing is that grey sky, and feeling that cold morning air, and tasting that potato in the chowder....because you are the art.

I was going to go through my myspace blog and find all the youtubes and pick out of those my favorite dance vids....but found only one...and instead of thinking of the videos myself, I started reading my blog.

For me, when I journal or blog it's like I am literally emptying my head, cause afterward I remember very little of what I wrote...But reading through it usually brings it all back. But I was reading through my old stuff and was having some serious issues understanding myself...I was so cryptic and fragmented....

It goes to prove that I am in a different spot now than a year ago, or even half a year. So that is encouraging. I speak a different language now. I have said that no one has really been completely clued in on what all happened in the last few years...but the other night I told some one, like ALL of it. All the gory details...cept for the whole crazy Imaginary part, cause that's just confusing and is like a deeper layer of the onion...

I feel as if it marks the changing of the season. Maybe I am not quite over it yet. Maybe I will always miss portions of my vice that I had, but at the same time, I am free now.....And free means I can move on. It means I can allow myself to be happy again. I can be who I was in Nica. It means I can do the stuff I've always been afraid to. It means I can surround myself with new friends.

So since I've gone off on that little tangent, I will think of the videos now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5DDN09A534
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYGCT4AQIR0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9r9sQ6PHOM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIOfor7Tnv0

I guess that's all for now....