Dance TEST!

The End of Dance is coming on the morrow. I might as well be typing about the end of the world. I don't dance well with instructions. If you give me music and a chance to do what I feel is fun, I dance. Is it good? No. Is it graceful? Hardly. Is it fun? You bet. Thats what I thought dance was supposed to be. FUN.  Instead it's instructions, comments, and commands. This is not to say that the teacher just yells. He is not some dancer passed his prime dancing years. He can still dance.

His movements are beautiful. Each extend of his body is a graceful and carefully planned shift of his body. I love to look at his arms as they swing to the sides in the warmup. They break away from the forward contraction and fall down in a cool, swift move, as though his arms are programed to do just that all day long. I can't help but want to do what he does. But each time I try to mimic his fluid steps I fall short, stumble, or can't get it right. But I will take his test, and I will my best, because it's ALL I can do. Sometimes we are left with only what we did. We can't sit and wait for bread to be made. We have to MAKE the bread. Wishing gets you nothing, doing gets you everything. If only I had done sooner.

On the writing front:
Still not so good, but I have to finish this. I can't let this idea die. If I do, it will be just another one of millions to never be finished. I don't want that. I want and end. Well, off to try.