The Impossible Dream
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''To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go, to right the unrightable wrong, to love, pure and chaste, from afar; to try when your arms are too weary; to reach the unreachable star. This is my Quest---to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far, to fight for the right without question or pause'' (The Impossible Dream - lyrics by Joe Darion, music by Mitch Leigh)
Nightskye 2004 Tempest's Nanowrimo
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Tuesday, March 27, 2007
When I was in kindergarten, my teacher had us make a time capsule. In it, we would draw a picture of what we wanted to be when we grew up. I wanted to be a ballerina.But dance lessons were too expensive and my mother didn't think, at five, I had a ballerina's physique or drive. I was told I was athlethic. And I was allowed to play sports. I was a good softball player, although not at the high school level. But I was a Varsity field hockey goalie and my coach thought I could be an Olympian. But my parents K'boshed that too. They didn't want me to give up my childhood working for a sport. But this isn't a rant about how my parents might have held me back from the gold medal or dancing with Barysknikov. They did what they thought was right and I'm learning that they weren't perfect beings, but humans who made mistakes. This is about taking back a dream. I love the arts. I love to paint (although I'm not very good). I love to write (in which I think I am very good). I love museums, and music and dance. I was told I was awkward and clumsy and would be referred to sarcastically as "grace." And I am. I don't have any rhythm, but fortunately I also don't have any blues either. But I do need to exercise more and I become bored very quickly. So I decided one way to solve both problems is to take belly dancing lessons at the local high school adult education program. I figure it would be entertaining at the least. I love it. I need to work on my shimmy and my hip rolls/figure eights. But we did a dance called the "Gypsy King" which allowed us to use a bunch of dance moves and arm motions (snake hands, temple arms) that we had learned. She let us borrow "veils" (2 yards of chiffon-like fabric) to dance with and it was fun and natural. Without sounding like a new age head case, I felt that it's a very "woman" and "empowering" thing to do, especially with a bunch of other women. I'd be interested in researching SCA period garb for belly dancers, because it's not the sequined "I dream of Jeannie" outfits you're thinking of. The teacher told us that belly dancers weren't for the sultan, but they were a fertility ritual dance for the women of the tribe. So I bought a hip skirt. This is the one I bought, but I went for the silver coins instead. I'm going to go to either Walmart or Joann fabrics today at lunch and buy my 'veil'. I'm very excited because FitTV on demand offers belly dancing programs that I can put on anytime I want. But most of all, it feels good to dance. Even if I'm clumsy and awkward.
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