Field of Daize’s

My stay here in LA has only been for a few days, but in that time, boy have I been dancing! Every night since Saturday has been at LEAST five hours dancing every day. As a consequence, it seems to be the only thing that I can think of. This, you will realise, is not neccesarily a bad thing at all. In fact, I find my enthusiasm is turning into a craving to dance insesantly all day long.

I’m not sure why.

Could be that I’ve lost three kilos while I’ve been here!

Then again, I’m sure there is more to it than that.

I think back at my own thoughts on dancing throughout the ages, and I come to the conclusion that I had it all wrong. YES, you are reading this correctly. I’m admiting that I annalysed something wrong! (the crowd breaks out in horror, shock and dignified looks that could shatter glass). Or perhaps I my views on dancing are still valid, with some misconeptions.

Working at a Salsa club certainly doesn’t help. As a barman who is concious of how to better service and profits in the club, dancers have always been the nightmare cliantelle. They come early to avoid cover charges, making the club loose from the off. Moreover, since they are there specifically to dance, they tend to drink water rather than booze. They are there EVERY week, and so they think that they somehow deserve some special privelege. They leave sweaty paper towlels all over the place (thus resulting in a “we-don’t-have-serviettes-behind-the-bar” policy). But most of all I adhored their cocky attitutdes, they way they thought that what they were doing was so vastly important and that everyone who didn’t study dance was retarded.

I don’t specifically believe this is a wholly inacuarate annalysis. Rather, I can appriciate why the have such a lofty attitude. The truth is that this dancing caper is not simply a matter of learning little tricks and prancing around. It is substancially harder than I could have imagined. Dancing by oneself is not a hard endevour, but dancing with a partner is another kettle of fish. How do you co-ordinate with a complete stranger? Therein lies a dificult challenge. Thus, these people are serious about what they do. Looking at different people in the studio where I’m dancing at the moment.. this is more than just a pass time; it slowly becomes a way of life.

I don’t know if this excuses the behavious of the patrons in my club. In fact, I know it doesn’t. As far as I’m concerned, they are still freaks. However, I can now understand them. In fact, I will go so far as sympathise with them, specially since I’m sure that the oportunities present here in LA are outside their own grasps.

My current philosophy is somewhat conflicted. I would love to learn how to dance… and I mean really learn. I don’t just want to know the steps, I want to be able to lead, I want to be able to let my feet recognise rhythyms naturally. I want to be able to visualise moves before they happen.

My biggest fear is that dancing should stop being fun. Before coming to LA, I didn’t think I was the greatest dancer in the world, but I was under the deluded impression that I could hold my own on the floor. I was mistaken. Truth is I had no idea what I was doing. However, the big difference is that ignorance is bliss, and there is more confidence in thinking you are twinkle-toes than in knowing you are not. Whereas before I could confidently (if not somewhat giddy from booze!) walk up to someone, ask them to dance, and make a happy mess of the whole thing, now I stand in front of a partner with the dreaded feeling that I’m caught in headlights. The truth is that it is hard to come to grips with the fact that the man leads, and the woman follows. That sounds good and proper, but it also puts a massive onus on the man to know what he is doing. In the case where you DON’T know what you are doing, the whole things disintigrates.

Yet no matter how intimidating, the whole experience is ofset by the fantastic friendships that I’ve developed here. I’m astounded at the fluidity into which I’ve been accepted within this group of people. Maybe it has something to do with my already Bohemian outlook on life, or it could have something to do with the fact that dancers develop really cute looking butts. Either way, if I were to find a studio in Oz whose instructors and students where half as nice as I’ve found here in LA, I should indeed be a happy person. From my tenious beggining, they have been nothing short of astounding. The usual bitchiness that I would attribute to most performing arts circles (and I know a fair few…. musos, dancers, actors, artist, and your run of the mill pains in the asses) seems to be lacking in these people, and all I’m left with is some of the craziest, and most memorable mental souveniers of this trip.

Truly, it was a wise decision to come to LA. Considering how hesitant I was on spending the money it took to get here, I take it as providence trying to tell me something about where my life is headed.

I’m happy at the moment. The people I’ve met here have filled me with such joy that I can bearly describe it. I look forward to going into the studio and knowing that there will be someone there that will make me feel free. Not because they have to, but rather because they have such an amazing personality that being near them fills me with warmth, and talking to them makes me think that I can be a better person; or at least be more me.