This Ain't No Pico De Gallo!

Spice. Flare. Attitude. And yes, a pinch of sensuality. These are the main ingredients of the finest Latin dances. I say sensuality because people who dance the Salsa or the Paso Doble (Pass-oh Dough-blay) have this attitude and confidence about them that says "All I think about is my partner. I want to dance beautifully for them and only them, while also showing them to the world." But they also have this tension about them that makes you wonder what's going to happen next? Are they going to kiss? Are they going to separate and never look at each other again? Is he going to give her the "good ridance" dip and leave her laying on the floor at the end, as if he killed her? My head starts screaming each time I watch a dance like this, because it is so beautiful and so masterful, but for the life of me I can't figure out what's going to happen!

I would say there is one exception to these Latin dances. The Rumba (Room-bah). This is known as "The Dance of Love", and has much more than a pinch of sensuality! It is also possibly one of the most difficult, because of the attitude that comes with it. Technique-wise the Paso Doble is the hardest, but the Rumba is the most difficult to make look good.

In my dance class this last week we learned the Salsa. A guest instructor - Jose Santa Maria - came and taught us the basics. I was one of the few who brought a dance partner - my friends little brother Bobby. He's really not that little (6 feet) and my arms were really tired afterwards because he is so tall and he had a difficult time getting the proper form. But once Jose turned on the music, man, I could've cared less how my arms felt! It was a lot of fun. I hope to learn more soon!

The Crooked Man - or, A Thousand Miles in His Shoes

"There was a crooked man, who walked a crooked mile..... he found a crooked style...... on the style he found a crooked pence..... with the crooked pence he bought a crooked dog..... who chased a crooked cat...... who caught a crooked mouse. And they all lived together in a little crooked house." Since I was a little child, I have heard and sung this song. Seven years ago, I moved into a house out in the country. It was here that I first happened upon the "Crooked Man."

I suppose you could call him Fulton's very own Boo Radley. (To Kill a Mockingbird) My dad was the one who gave him the name of "the Crooked Man", and to tell the truth, I rarely call him that. But we have all had our theories on what has made him the way he is.

The Walking Man, as I prefer to call him, lives in a convalescent home just around the corner from me. A long, unkept beard blends with his his long, scraggly hair. He often wears khaki pants, a green shirt, and some sort of baggy jacket. The most important part of his ensemble is his shoes. Striking white sneakers. My dad calls him the Crooked Man because of the way he walks. His right shoulder stoops, with that same arm rather dead at his side. His left foot turns in as he walks, and slightly drags. His right arm he keeps slightly bent up, always ready to form the peace sign when someone waves at him. But he is the Walking Man because everyday, I assume it must be quite early in the morning, he leaves his house and walks all over town. It is hard to describe exactly how far he walks without a map of Sonoma County, but lets just say that Santa Rosa is the central city (at least 250,000 people), with smaller cities all around it. I have seen him walking in: Santa Rosa, Fulton, Windsor, Sebastopol, Petaluma, Sonoma, and several other small towns.

But what has always bothered me is: what drives him to walk so far? Is he some sort of real life Forrest Gump, that just feels like walking? I don't know.....

By now you're surely wondering what the heck this has to do with dancing. Well, it is this: What drives me to dance? And my only answer is this: I don't know. I can't explain it, except that there is something deep inside of me that just comes alive when I dance, when I hear music, even simply watching someone else dance. And maybe someday I'll be old and crazy like the Walking Man, but something will always be there to drive me to dance.

Silence

What is it about dancing that is so appealing? Put some music on, and suddenly it's cool to jump around and kick at nothing. Granted, there are some who have never been able to make it look cool. But what if a group of people suddenly began dancing without music? I do this whenever I first step onto a dancefloor, but it is not the same. On a dancefloor, you are expected to dance, with or without music. I think it would be incredibly interesting to perform a routine with absolutely no music. It would be very difficult, because there would be nothing to help you keep in time, but just imagine: a dark stage slowly lights to reveal a dozen people lying flat on their backs. 6 are wearing black unitards, 6 are wearing white. They slowly roll forward onto their hands and knees. Suddenly the whites jump to their feet and the blacks down onto their stomachs. They switch, now the whites on their stomachs and the blacks on their feet. Now they all shrink down to the floor again, hugging their knees. One by one they rotate to the left, still hugging their knees. Their arms extend upward, and they topple like dominoes. They roll to their stomachs, all rise this time, with their backs to the audience. It is here that the body of the routine would begin, although at the moment I haven't decided what that would consist of. I know, it sounds extremely odd, and is probably pretty hard to picture. But that is how I would begin a routine with no music.

One step closer....

So Friday I had my first Jazz dance lesson. I was sooo excited! My favorite style of dance is Lyrical, and Jazz is very similar to Lyrical. It was pretty confusing at first, but I'll get the hang of it soon enough! Once I know the basics of Jazz, I will be prepared to learn Lyrical, Hip-Hop, and several other styles of modern dance. I am one step closer to reaching my goal of learning Lyrical!!!

This is a picture of a Modern dance group called Pilobulos. They do all sorts of really cool dance movements like this, using weight transfer. Their performances are the most amazing things! They're kinda trippy, but if you ever watch one, prepare to be amazed!

My Pot of Gold

Every time I get onto a dance floor, I close my eyes, and let the music move me. Even if there isn't any music, I just go for it. My friend Ciara once asked me, "You've got such awesome moves Alex! Where did you learn them? Can you teach me?" and I tried to show her, but was reminded of a Scottish song I was once taught, called "the Wee Kirkudbright Centipede". In this song, the Centipede is a beautiful dancer, and the Spider is her neighbor. The Spider watches the Centipede dance, and decides to ask the Centipede to teach her. The Centipede tries, but her legs get twisted and tangled up, and it's no use. The moral of the song is "Ne'er try explainin just what comes natrally!"
Dancing comes naturally to me, and I can't listen to music and not at least WANT to dance! Dancing is a part of me. It is part of my soul which I can't be separated from! I dance from my heart, feeling the music and letting every part of my emotions whirl me away to get lost in the dance.