Thingity Thing Things:

 
 

Seriously, why is this not lounging on my desk as we speak?

GLURG.

 

(I am also planning on whipping up a fresh mint sweet tea rum spiked drink of de-li-ci-ousness this week.)
 
(you know, because I can.)

 

I survived the Los Angeles Salsa Congress…
by the thin suede of my dance shoes,
but still,
I survived.

There may have been a very teary and slightly hysterical phone call to The Boyo
regarding the verysmallandhardlynoticeable mistake that
happened during our routine, because I?

Am a perfectionist.

Never thought I was.

But I TOTALLY AM.

I would post a video for all y’all,
but alas,
the folks running the Congress are also a bit money-grubby,
and wouldn’t allow filming in order to force attendees
to buy *their* video of the event.

BOO.

 

I also finished a couple of books this week–
nothing near my normal rate of reading whilst-being-unemployed,
but it was nice to dig myself into good books,
even for five minutes at a time.

I still have mixed feelings for this book...

I picked up “House of Sand and Fog” at the wickedly fabulous
Altadena Library Book Sale because one of my favorite professors loves the film.

The book is modeled on the Greek tragedy–
events that occur happen because of tragic flaws
within each of the main characters,
and Col. Behrani certainly fits the mold of a great person experiencing a reversal of fortune.

Additionally,
the events of the novel build up slowly,
inexorably,
and as the reader,
I felt absolutely helpless in the face of it all.

Not a comfortable read, by any means,
but a beautiful one.

 

I was very surprised to realize that I *hadn’t* read this book.
It reminded me a great deal of “Brave New World”,
but it has a far more hopeful ending–
which I sincerely appreciate in a dystopian novel.

I loved the entire conceit of a world built without cultural memory or emotion,
and I especially loved that the world had no color–
only The Receiver could see color, hear music, and remember events long past.

The obvious twist probably isn’t so obvious when reading
this at 10 or 12 years old–alas for reading YA lit as an adult!–
but it did not affect my enjoyment of the novel.

 

It’s been a wild last couple of months, y’all.
I’m glad to be done with Lack of Weekends.

It’s time to get back on that Lazy Saturday Train…
maybe this Saturday will involve a walk in the sunshine.
Or reading at the beach.
Or hiking with the Corgi and The Boyo.
Or lounging about,
sipping some of that Sangria Slushied goodness.

It is good to be done.

Why I Dance:

For the joy of it, loves.

Simply for the joy of it.

 

 

And?

When I’m good, I’m really, really good.

*grin*

Why I Dance:

Storytelling.

The video’s a leetle fuzzy,
but their dancing certainly isn’t.

I love how they use the pole as a third partner–
it’s rare to see this level of smooth coordination,
athleticism and dance choreography outside of something huge like Cirque…
but oh, I love it.

Oh, I want to be this damn good someday.

Why I Dance:

Pure.
Unadulterated.
Joy.

Legs McLegsly:

My old roommate, Steph, asked me to come out to Venice Beach for a shoot last weekend.

This was one of the captures from that day:

you know, every once in a while, i *like* my legs.

I asked my friend Jimmy to join me,
since he is one of my most favorite people to dance with–
a good, solid lead,
and just a delight, in general:

this is the 'around the back and catch-twist-thingummy' turn.

There is something happy about being one of the people *to* watch at Venice,
instead of just being a watcher.

There were about ten of us on this shoot,
including a super-sweet samba dancer in full feathered regalia,
and we made this freestyle dance parade of sorts down the boardwalk–
folks stopped to applaud,
and a few even joined in the fun.

See,
that’s what I like about Venice,
in spite of its sketchiness–
it’s cool to be weird,
to march, quite literally,
to the beat of your own drummer there.

(A lot of these random opportunities have been cropping up lately…
It’s nice to be doing something again.)

(photos by craig marks)