Another reading week is winding down, it almost feels surreal because I blinked and it’s Thursday. And while some students may be partying this upcoming weekend, I have the opportunity to perform in an annual tradition for the last ten years of my life: the winter dance recital.
I’ve been dancing for fifteen years, but it was only when I moved to Canada that performing really became the card for me. Being able to share a dance with someone – for someone – is a feeling that is unmatched. A few months ago I posted a video of a dance I dedicated to my terminally ill relative (who lives in South Africa). She saw it and I was able to tell her how I feel without needing to write it, or find the right syntax to make it sincere and not a painfully sad good-bye.
I’m quite certain everyone who has been touched by the gift of dance feels the same way. They have found another language, a vocabulary understood by everyone. Just after New Years, my performance troupe was given an assignment to create a solo about an experience in our lives or something we want to share with others in the group. 
Firstly, the fact that I have a group of friends and dancers that I’ve worked creatively with for the better half of a decade is a blessing in itself. My friend Alex came up with a great idea to accompany our Secret Santa gift exchange during the holidays – we all provide each other with a compliment card. In the end, each person leaves with 26 personalized compliments. I think this is a great idea for showing appreciation with words. As you can see in the picture, I added some pictures from the past few years to the cards I gave out.
But back to the solo. I didn’t know where to start – do I make it sad? Do I focus on something profound? Life changing?
Then I knew, I just need to tell everyone that while I’m a writer, and I love seeing letters flowing across a Word document, there is so much to be expressed by dance. So I made this quirky number up, and added an aerial element. Slings is my favourite apparatus at the moment, because it’s pretty much a giant fabric hammock that doubles as a transforming jungle gym. It is also known as the fussiest apparatus because it likes to do it’s own thing; so you’re forced to dance in the moment.
Dance Dance Dance by Lykke Li
Having troubles telling how I feel
But I can dance, dance and dance
Couldn’t possibly tell you how I mean
But I can dance, dance, dance
So when I trip on my feet
Look at the beat
The words are, written in the sand
When I’m shaking my hips
Look for the swing
The words are, written in the air
Dance
I was a dancer all along
Dance, dance, dance
Words can never make up for what you do
Easy conversations, there’s no such thing
No I’m shy, shy, shy
My hips they lie ’cause in reality I’m shy, shy, shy
But when I trip on my feet
Look at the ground
The words are, written in the dust
When I’m shaking my hips
Look for the swing
The words are written in the air
Dance
I was a dancer all along
Dance, dance, dance
Words can never make up for what you do
Dance, dance, dance
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