I think if I had lived an alternate life, from about age 5, I would have, could have, been a dancer. I love it. And yet, I am completely NOT a dancer. I might shake my booty at a party or a club, or I might have once upon a time, before babies and encroaching age, but I’ve never even taken a dance class.
I love to watch dance, though, particularly modern dance, contemporary, lyrical, or whatever they call it. Sometimes, after a particularly evocative performance, I might even choreograph a number in my head.
My grandfather was also a professional dancer during the Harlem Rennaissance. He was a Spanish immigrant and used to do the Pasa Doble—the same dance they did in Strictly Ballroom. (If you don’t know it, you MUST watch it.) Sometimes I wonder if there’s a genetic predisposition to things like dance, because I’m definitely predisposed, despite not dancing.
And I LOVE the performances today on SYTYCD. The numbers, the dancers. LOVE LOVE LOVE.
See? Dance makes me talk all in CAPITALS!
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