If . . .

the music is sweet and she says yes to the dance then heaven is on earth.  I thought it when I was boy growing up in Memphis and the swing big band and jitterbug.  There wasn't an East Coast nor West Coast version.  We went to the hop not to Lindy but to jump and jive. 

On Friday night, before the game, my friends and I would gather at Tommie Goins' house to listen to Earl Bostic and then go to play football the way kids play with no fear of injury just happiness at being able to spend the energy built up inside by the wail of Earl's sax and the need to do something.

And then came our reward, the after game dance.

How we talk . . . to each other

when we take a dance class can be like scrambling eggs in a cold frying pan.  Stickey clots of words, over-heated by the effort of "trying to do a pattern" now clumps of yellow that block us off from each other even before we've begun.  To be sure this over reaction to talking to your partner doesn't just happen in a class. On the floor, two resonably kind dancers can turn into immediate enemies with the slip of a word.  No matter the intention.  Mis under standing is the most common cause of dance anxiety that I know of.  Unfortunately it's also the kind of cause effective that proves the adage,  "Less is more"  And even time is only a partial cure. 

Of course, bruising an ego that is often being judged against the perfection of a pattern turns out to be incredibly easy.  Tinder boxes they, or should I say we, are.  Because no one seems immune to this condition.  Jostle our picture of ourselves and anything could happen.

The great news for me is that the willingness to talk about this and with each other seems to on the rise and on both sides. 

My studies of this will continue,

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot . . ..

Well, I have been having some real connection issues getting here.  Seems my old browser don't like Window XP no more so every once in a while it just freezes.  I'm going shopping Saturday.  Meanwhile, I have been working with the new material I got at The essdance .camp com  Slingshots.  I guess you can call them snapshots, too.  But wow, by learning to keep  my center focused straight a head while seeming to propel my partner to a sudden stop as she passes me down the slot or is suddenly shot to the side as the start of a sugar block.  Even the over head snap lead of a six count underarm turn you want to snap open on 5&6 is clear and clean. 

A New Life . . .

So I went to start up an Amazon Local account to advertise my biz and here is what happened.  Using the link on the Amazon business page, I got started by filling in the business info about Just Dancing . . . and sent it off .  Several days later, I received an email telling me that someone from Amazon Local would contact me shortly.  A week later I called them to ask, how shortly? Someone there said momentarily.  Another week later, today in fact, I called again and was told: a) They needed to know if I had a website, no a blog wouldn't do, but they would accept a Facebook page, and b) Yes, I was right no one had contacted me about this but the account was closed anyway.  Wow, it's great doing business with such a responsible and responsive group.

And now you know, if you followed this this far, that I went ahead and created a Facebook page and when it asked if I had a website I went ahead and told them about you which I haven't really been writing in for about two years.

Hence, our title, A New Life.

Like feet in the night

I can still remember it as though it were yesterday, wait it was yesterday. I leaned into my right leg and felt it start to quiver. The second time in two dances. My partner's sweet hazel eyes seemed to be questioning what she could feel through our linked hands.  For my part, I slowly drew in a balancing breath and transmitted my own awareness that whatever the cause, the trembling was over. Where my mind stays though is on the wondering, the trembling what did it mean? What does it mean?

In the room's corner, up above ballroom eye level, the Face smirks and throws a leer at my partner's smooth and rounded rear. If its wigging me, I am going to have at its eyes. 'Course, I say it but IT thinks its a tri-sexual. Able to assume any sex, or both, in an instant's blink. Stay away from her I beam back as I turn into a deep dip designed to keep her close and focused on me, us.

These human's sure do like their dances. Personally, ha ha, we find it funny, Face and I. We needed a way to study them and any dance floor on the planet will let us study them to our two hearts content.

As I leaned close, I could feel the warmth of her breath against my neck and again the tremble, this time in my chest.  Too close came Face's beam, and I suddenly knew what the trembling was all about.  Humans have emotions, form emotional attachments, feelings.  Crap, how could I analyze them if this body I'd borrowed was going to do that?

Clarion West Write-a-thon

So heres the deal.  I have several goals for this thing and several blogs to express them in.  It's a fantasy of mine that, well you know, this might lead to some form of beyond a blog publishing.  So welcome Clarionadoes, read on.

I can still remember it as though it were yesterday, wait it was yesterday.  I leaned into my right leg and felt it start to quiver.  The second time in two dances. 

My partner has sweet hazel eyes and they seemed to be questioning what she could feel through  linked hands.

For my part, I slowly drew in a balancing breath and transmitted by own awareness that whatever the cause, the trembling is over.  Where my mind stays though is on the wondering, what did it mean?   What does it mean? 

In the corner, up above ballroom eye level, the Face smirks and throws a leer at my partner's smooth and rounded rear.  If its wigging me I am going to have at its eyes.  Course, I say it but It thinks its a tri-sexual.  Able to assume any sex, or both, in an instant's blink.  Stay away from her I beam back as turn us into a closed basic whip a move designed to keep her close and focused on me, us.

These human's sure do like their dances.  Personally, ha ha, we find it funny, Face and I.  We needed a way to study them and any dance floor will let us study to our two hearts content.

Dance as a Duet . . .

or the Art of Mapping. I first heard Robert Royston proffer this idea of hearing and using what he called the map of a song at a workshop in Albuquerque and have since seen a video that helps explain the idea, West Coast Advanced, Volume One, Mapping the music.  That was in 2003.   Since then, I've kind of dropped out of the competitive dance culture.  This last weekend was SwingDiego, however, and as a part of our new re-committment to physical well being, T and I put on our dancing shoes and headed out.  No that's not us by the way, since I was taking the shot and T was saying hello to some fellow San Diegans.

But that was the scene at the beginning with warm colors at the fore and swing sounds beckoning towards the floor.

So, there we were ready and willing, toned and tuned as they say and yet within a few songs or so we are lost.  You know the kind of loss Mike and Patti called, The "She can't follow and he can't lead" step.  The kind you can't not ignore and yet you can't not let it get you down.  I know, too many Knots, eh?  That was Day One.  Day Two was better but it was probably because we distracted ourselves with workshops.  By night fall, dancing with others was definitely in.  Then came Day Three, we drive down separately.  I stay home so I can teach a two hour private and she goes so she can enter a Jack'n'Jill.  We meet at eight and by then we both admit to a tendency to be hummimg songs that our imaginations are dancing even as we stand in line to get back in.  As far as the actual dancing, it feels like our bodies have found their own GPS's as we link and  hit and connect to the song and each other like it is supposed to be.  Immersion has given us the mapping tool and for awhile we wear ourselves out trying it out.

Still, things were felt, and things even said that keep what happened from us until we, we always seem to do, talk it out.  Our first attempts spark with tempered energy.  The next morning we try again with different examples and for a while there's still some sense that we are getting nowhere.  Then Monday and guess what, we are intently listening to the car radio while discussing the map we hear in the song.

So, Robert, thanks for the idea.  I'll let you know how it works out.