i was just reading cynthia's watson paper and it almost made me cry, and actually just thinking more about it now is making me cry. what is it? maybe something about how cynthia writes about movement--in her words it's
cynthia dancing, and it's just dancing. i can feel it inside me as i read, like these lines for instance--
Thaat is an awakening from internality to externality, stillness to movement, attention shifting from the slow drawn sarangi melody to intense crisp tabla beats, a process that does not allow you to forget, even in the last glorious burst of explosive rhythmic footwork, the slow and still beginnings of movement.
wrists rising and circling on the breath where her voice just rose and fell
but what is it? i love dancing. it's not enough and then its overwhelming.
in many books about dance i've read, at some point the writer must refer to "the dance." i've always thought it was kind of funny, this singular like it's one thing. you don't often hear people refer to 'the music,' without a flash of judgment that they're some sort of mystical loony. and even now that internal movement, the urge to complete breaths and images and feelings with movements that follow that perpetual stream inside is fading as i'm sitting here writing and thinking, and planning what i have to do next (see ron brown dance in ten minutes). and just now i think it's gone, and gosh i miss it. but it'll come back. and writing that makes me feel like crying again. wow. what a gift. thanks mom and dad and all. thanks tiko and cyntia, and all you dancing fools. somebody slap me and make me stop gushing. okay i'm going to go now.
posted by Liza 30.6.03