Okay, I dance.
I dance, unfortunately, like a comedienne, with lots of exuberance and little discipline. Ask poor Darlene, a Balanchine trained ballerina who tried to choreograph me in a dance to Tuxedo Junction when we worked for the Arts Council. We got a free souvlaki out of the deal, but that’s about it.
Darlene was always surprised I can’t point my toes, such a simple act for her. But somehow, this body, with the big flat feet, won’t do it. Since I didn’t see myself as my body, it didn’t surprise me too much.
I used to go to t-dance at local clubs, but that was as much about the crowd who came for one price beer, wine and wells.
But sometimes, when I am alone, my body starts to move and it surprises me. The vernacular of Broadway style dance surprises me, just like when I would watch late night Astaire movies and then feel the urge to jête on the grass, or see Singin’ and ship down the mountain from McGill. How do I know these moves?
My sister went to Joan Wolff, but my ballet desire was spurned. Too weird, too much in the wrong direction, and besides, wasn’t I altogether too clumsy?
Bette Midler, when asked what women wanted, said that the answer is simple. Women want to dance, and watching the women behind the screen on Live With Regis & Kelly, I am sure that is true. So many bits about exuberance, expression, partnering and abandon come into dancing well, into sweating it out and heating it up.
Trannys, well, we inhabit our bodies in ways that aren’t normative. For many people, dance is a body thing, which then reveals something. For me, though, dance is an inner thing, that comes crudely out of the body I have. I do feel it, below my mind, but not in my muscles and bones — they are only on top of what is important.
Dancers have trouble with this notion. They usually lead with their bodies, and that helps them know something about their head, while I lead with my head & spirit, and something, sometimes comes out of my body.
But sometimes, I dance. And I wonder what it would have been like to have a body that could dance with me, vertically or horizontally.
Oh well, next life.