Teaching Dance

“In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's mind there are few.” ~ Shunryu Suzuki This is the time of year when my schedule slows down and I get to be a dilettante again. Being a dilettante used to be a good thing. It meant that you were trying something new and being open to exploration. In today’s common usage, it is mostly derogatory, referring to someone who is an amateurish dabbler. dil-et-tante (n): somebody who is interested in an art or a specialized field of knowledge who has only a superficial understanding of it When it comes to photography and poetry, I am a dilettante (feel free to reference my prior blogs as proof). I admit my understanding of those subjects is superficial. And I embrace that. I embrace that purposefully. That was not always easy for me to do. When I first moved to New York City in 1993, I was so concerned with not looking like I stepped straight out of the cornfields of Ohio that I wouldn't stop and ask f

Three inches of brown precede six inches of blonde hair hanging, framing her face, a smoke-hardened complexion camouflaged by a factor of maximum nonchalance. Glances, not to be obvious, turn to stares in the window's reflection. He pulls out Robert Frost, skipping to the end of a book he’s never read, smiling as if the sole heir to the author’s intent. Glances, not to be obvious, turn to stares at the woman fussing at her reflection. “You don't need to look in the mirror You look beautiful,”  he says as he puffs his chest And flexes Frost. A laugh of irritation purges “Thanks” as she turns away And glances, not to be obvious.

 

“Art is like beginning a sentence before you know its ending." ~ Bayles & Orland from Art & Fear I love sitting on the precipice of a new project, that moment so pregnant with possibility and full of promise. Inevitably, with each decision, each step forward, each new development, the work begins to define itself and I have to give up that wonderful place of pure potential. “What's so hard about that first sentence is that you're stuck with it. Everything else is going to flow out of that sentence. And by the time you've laid down the first two sentences, your options are all gone.” ~ Joan Didion That loss, however, is countered with the sense of wonder I feel as the new work unfolds itself. And that excites me. In rehearsal for Missa Pro Dogmata So, I am beginning to work on a new piece, which for now I will dub the Singularity Project . This is the second part of my seven-part 7 Veils Series that draws its inspiration from author Tom Robbins’ book

I am a diehard, lifelong Pittsburg Steelers fan--and a dancer. It goes without saying that I was doubly proud when Steeler’s wide-receiver Hines Ward won the recent season of Dancing With The Stars . But being both a football fan and a dancer has its pitfalls. Imagine the ensuing embarrassment from mistakenly calling halftime an intermission. Or, imagine being in a group of friends (all non-dancers) at a sports bar and commenting on how you hate the team in the pinstripe "costumes...uh, I meant uniforms.” I hate to admit it but I have made both of these slips. It provides a good laugh and I absorb a few jokes at my own expense (most commonly from my wife) but I get over it. However, subtler mistakes in language can truly brand one as an outsider in these situations. Simple things--like referring to the ‘point after touchdown’ as a ‘field goal’--will get your Man Card taken away from you in most crowds. Knowing the correct lingo shows that you are part of the ‘tribe’--wheth