Monday, February 15, 2010

Chapter Six: Allegory

In the last chapter, I discussed how dancing solo is easier and more to my style. Sadly, the romani way is to travel in packs together, but it does not seem as though I will be able to do that. Not because I do not wish too, but because there are no packs to travel with other than my immediate kumpania, who I love. But this does not help me with dance.
Yes, I have had time to think of this over the ridiculous holiday that was yesterday. The Holiday of red and hearts and flowers. A happy time no doubt for someone who has a special person to share it with. I am not begging for a man, however, I simply stating what nearly every person is thinking on this White Day.
When dancing alone (mostly raqs sharqi for me) I find myself free and able to do whatever I want. If I want to dance fast, I do. If I want to move slowly and sensually I do. I so adore ballroom dance, but that requires something I do not have; a partner. Though this is the main point, let me elaborate on another similar subject for a moment.
Dance comes from many traditions and lifestyles. I have spoken in brief about the lifestyles I lead: gothic, romani, and lady-like manners. All of these aid in creating a better me. I know more about ballroom dance than the average person because I studied it for almost 5 years. So hear me when I say what I saw at Louis’ Dance Studio that night was appalling. First, all of the Swingsters are ugly men who, and my best friend agreed with me, are only swing dancing because it’s the only way to touch a pretty girl. Yes, they are very talented but I have to wonder why, in a world of American opportunity they chose to be dancers.
So that’s point one. Secondly, the music they mostly dance to is what they call East Caoast, but really is simply rock music. Excuse my vulgarity here, but they freakin danced to that “boots with fur” song! That is not ball room music. That is my second point; they have lost the true meaning and soul behind that dance. It is a dance of elegance and passion, not sluttyness and lust. But that is all that dance has turned into these days. It is lust. Ballroom used to be a dance of respect between a man and woman. The man would lead and the woman was brave enough to let him lead and he took her on an adventure. It was an allegory for life. It still is, but all modern standards though. It had just evolved into something grotesque. Sex, lust, and dirt passion.
Belly dance has met with these people as well and it will take many of us purist dancers to bring it back to the light. Like ballroom is about a journey between a man and a woman, belly dance can be that as well, or simply a celebration of the voluptuous woman. A praise for the goddess in us all. It is not bawdy and sexual, it is beautiful and sensual. It is pure. It is feminine. We, as female dancers must never dance before an all male audience and we must offer ourselves as something to be bought; no sex for sale. We are strong, beautiful, independent women, who do not yet have a man to take us on our journeys. And that may never be your future. Or maybe you are a belly dancer and you have one man who you love for whom you can dance. Stick to that man and love him with all of your strong feminine passion.
All of my other posts seem ridiculous compared to this one. I am still trying to figure out what this blog is for. So if you are reading, then thank you.
Until the dust settles from your journey, may O’Dell bless you and keep you.

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