When I was a little girl I loved to dance.
Any kind of dance, any kind of movement.
As I grew older I started to believe as fact lies I told myself.
My hips are too tight, I have the wrong body shape, I’m not flexible, I have bad feet.
So many reasons why, if I wasn’t naturally perfect at dancing, I should just quit.
And I listened.
I reserved my dancing to moments when I was alone.
By myself I would twist and twirl, move my hands artfully through space, flowing to the music in my mind.
As I grew older and way too serious, the spontaneous dancing stopped (save the occasional dance party with my 3 year old).
I’ve been reading a book, doing a lot of internal digging, uncovering dreams I forgot I used to have.
Do I think I’m too old to have a career in dance? Certainly.
Do I feel like I am too uncoordinated to take a ballet class in public? Absolutely.
However, I’m not too old or too uncoordinated to rent dance instruction DVDs from the library and do them when no one is watching.
I’m coming to a place where I realize I can choose not to believe absolutes that I’ve told myself my whole life.
And there isn’t merely ONE way to taste my dreams.
Are there dreams you’ve given up on that you would like to experience again? In some capacity?
the budding, closet-dancer
Supplies used: an old dress pattern, Elmer’s spray glue, acrylic heavy body paint, glazing medium, Martha Stewart stencil (Arabesque), hand-carved geometric stamp, archival ink, Stabilo Marks All pencil, white out pen, image from 1984 National Geographic, matte medium, Martha Stewart metallic glass paint