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I love dancing, it is simply in my blood to move to the groove.

But what is dance? Dance, or what it represents to me, is expression of self. What words and colors cannot,
a fluid motion of the hand can. When one expresses oneself in dance and music, since the two are unseparable,
one dictates the emotion. A single turn of the hip can express what would take a writer ages, a glance could
not be perfectly captured by a framed session of art. Dance is transgression, a way to emote the desires,
the hopes, the dreams, the sensibility of life in dire motions.

When one dances a story unfolds and developes, intwining both movement and sound to create a zephyr
of provocative nature. Provacative in the sense that it only attracts if it has a certain twinkle to it, characteristic
bound not by time but by cast. Two people may do a dance exactly alike yet the flair, the style, the vibrance,
all is different. Each human is capable of dance, this I acknowledge, and each dance is capable of humanity. In
each dance, stoic, angular, fluid or improvised, all have a quality which cannot be measured in units yet can be
called forth with a analytical emotion.

Yet, I often ponder the meaning of dance. I know the purpose, I daresay I know the origin, yet the meaning,
the core often deludes me. Many dances have appeared and regressed, many have faltered in the storm of time,
dances which were once sacred are now whimsical, true masters simply dissapearing. Show a great dancer and
I will show a horrible one. Show me a dance with great intentions and I will show you one laced with hedonism.
Tried and true, not all dances bring me to extacy, not all interaction with melody and harmony of soul brings
me ascension. I thought of the time that I went rump-shaking, hip-grinding, knowing that this was without
higher purpose, one of pleasure alone. I felt bound by the strings of dawn and dusk, my only position
compromised by my place in society. By night a stalker, seeker of opposite sex, justice in release of inhibitions,
conversations laced with juvenile charm, each night ending in a complacent mode of bliss.Yet after ages, or many
a time, I found no solace in this juvenile carpe noctum, I could sense a loss of humanity in this. Defiant I must
ask this question, hoping light would be shed : What is the true meaning of dance...

Life is the dance you make it...

In darkness I wept, the chill of those words flowing across my chest, fatigue of thoughts finally brought to a stop.
Designs of contrasted black and white filled my eyes with visions of tangled harmonies based on unity of dance.
In thought I found that I sought a dance, a dance not only to express, but to reassure myself of my own life. My dance
was not be named by a name known to human tongue, yet it has always been in the darkest corner, sitting, pensive of
the day in which it will be allowed a minute of light. Realizing that it was not only the intent but also execution,
both were members of the same club, they were hand-in-hand in the realization of dance. I found my dance long ago;
My execution was without emotion. And then it found me strait in heart:

I dance for joy, I dance for life...
I dance for love, I dance for me...
I dance, I dance, I dance...
From cradle to grave,
From dusk till dawn...
I dance for joy, I dance for life...


------
Art is addicting, an addict am I,
truth is I, the truth am I, the truth a lie!


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Comments

The following comments are for "Dancing"
by Siah

lord of the dance
I too love to dance and music is such an inspiration in my life. You wrote this so eloquently and poetically that I wanted to share my thoughts with you. And in the words of the GREAT Material Girl, "You can dance for inspiration". Get into the groove....

( Posted by: johnb79 [Member] On: October 25, 2005 )





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