Dancing. 07/22/02
For a while I was writing these out on paper, to see if I liked the actual writing itself, the ritual of penning flowing script onto creamy pages of a special cloth-bound book. But over the past few days I'm transferring them to here. Not sure if I will continue to record such things on paper. I type much faster than I write and it is so easy to edit on screen.
Reading through what I've written so far and one thing that stands out is that each entry has a different feel. Some are deeply introspective and some more a relating of experiences. Some times I can get what I want to say across easily, other entries are unnecessarily verbose…
There are bellydancers who are respected for their skill, there are those who have admirers because of their beauty or skimpy costume, there are those of no special skill who are yet entertaining to watch because they have a presence about them. I am determined to be a bit of each of these things; entertaining, skilled, attractive. Sometimes it works out, other times I feel clumsy, ridiculous-looking, a beginner who isn't worthy of dancing in public. It’s not even that I want so badly to impress people, other than Steve. I just want to be proud of myself and feel like I belong in that atmosphere.
The pounding drums, the fire pit surrounded by oriental carpets, the attentive onlookers, the intoxicating effects of drink and of being out under the stars in the cool night air. Do I go out and dance? Depends on so many things. The dancing area has to be uncrowded. The drumbeat has to be strong and consistent, danceable. If there are drunken dudes doing the buttfucker dance, or children out among the dancers, forget it. Are the other dancers okay with me being out there, or is it a special choreographed dance for only that dance troupe, or maybe they just don't want any one else stealing the attention of the spectators? Is it too freezing out to take my cloak off? Am I drunk enough, sober enough, awake enough, do I remember my moves? Too much pressure.
Well aware I am that I'm dissembling, that to just bounce out there anyway and have a good time would be the way to go. Maybe. When I'm good enough. When even the difficult moves come as naturally as walking to me. When I can concentrate on having fun dancing instead of trying to keep track of so much -- trying not to bump into the others, keeping my coins, scarves, skirt & top in place, moving in time to the beat, being aware of the audience and looking at them instead of at my feet and hips. It may come easily to me with more practice. But do I want to be a good dancer badly enough to conquer my lazy nature and get up off the couch and MOVE? Sometimes. I know the steps. I have the spare time. I need the exercise anyway.
