Dancing is an amazing thing that humans do. We dance in so many ways, for so many reasons (ranging from random fun to profound ritual). It can be an incredible bonding exercise. It can be so much FUN! It can also be isolating (in some odd ways).
When I feel my crankiest and creakiest, I think about the times I’ve “danced” at clubs or bars and am sad (and rather embarrassed). It was fun, to be sure, but there was no art in it, no skill, and not a lot of deeper joy. It was motion boiled down to expression and movement, but not in a way that mattered much. It happened in a context of negotiated pseudo-intimacy (dance as sexual posturing is alive and well in the bar scene), which I’ve really come to dislike. These are dances about a kind of oblivion. Also: I’ve always been clumsy and random and (honestly) rather shy, so dancing is something I’ve tried to avoid doing. ;) Tae kwon do, fine — I feel cool punching things. Dancing? No way!
When I compare the club experience to the sheer joy of some other forms of dancing, though, I begin to think I ought to try to get over thinking of myself as terminally clutzy. The Scottish country dances that we learned for the tour last weekend (see previous post on the subject) were energetic and confusing and awesome, and they allowed people to be giddy together, which was pretty darn cool to watch. They require intense concentration, and reward it immensely.
The music is bouncy good fun, too. :) Here’s some more of it:
I did this one the same as the last one — fiddle, acoustic guitar, Dashing el Deano. I also forgot how to play the violin a couple of times along the way, because this sucker’s LONG — it’s a whole set of songs used for the Strip the Willow country dance, and I probably should’ve done the fiddle part before I played the bass, because my left hand was NOT happy with me by the second time I got to the Atholl Highlanders.