December 2009

12/6

Hannah

Partly cloudy, yesterday’s snow covers all outdoor surfaces.
I have invited another neighbor, who is also a photographer, to take some images.

I begin in profile to her, facing west, slightly crouched over, eyes closed, gathering my attention and focus. I rub my hands together, yawn, begin by making shapes with the arms and hands, curved fingers, cupping and slicing. Slowly my body starts to uncurl. I travel a bit, slide on the floor, surprised there is no pain in my hip. My dance has 3 or 4 parts. I remember a point when I was reaching up towards the ceiling as far as my body could extend, fingers and hands sweeping.  I also remember sounds accompanying some of the phrases, as though they were breath.

Looking at the witness slips me out of focus on the improvisation and throws me into the arena of self doubt – old old stuff. So I don’t look at her. When I do catch myself wondering what she is thinking, I remind myself (which turns out to be VERY helpful) that I would be doing this dance anyway whether she was there or not.

I am also experiencing things moving through me, both emotions – clarity about things of old – and sensations in my body. I am finding more freedom and a bit more openness, and that excites me.