"Dance, dance, otherwise we are lost."

Tonight, I sat in a movie theater and witnessed some of the most dynamic, thrilling, moving, and striking dance theater of my life.  Pina 3D: best sixteen dollars I have spent in a very long time. I usually walk out of an experience like that with one of two feelings: invigorated and ready to make art, or lost, bemoaning my life choices and what I have done so far.  I made a conscious decision as the credits appeared over the final clips of Pina Bausch's dance company: react differently.

At Bennington, I used the word "legacy" to describe my intentions and what was driving my work.  Learning my legacy: who came before me, the giants upon whose shoulders I was lucky enough to stand, things like that.  I used to list many great people, but in retrospect, I think my "legacy" begins with two men -- Gene Kelly and James Joyce.  A hoofer and a self-exiled Irish writer.  The precision of their work both inspires and empowers me. It affects me on an almost primal level, like there is a string knotted behind my womb that the two of them can pull on at will.

I have not thought about or immersed myself in any of Joyce or Kelly's work since I graduated.  There was a week or so in April or May in which I absolutely inundated myself with Gene (and a little Fred and Ginger.)  And the entirety of my last year was colored by Joyce and his words.  I bring this all up for one reason:  I have been feeling very ungrounded lately, and I think re-immersion might be a way to plant my feet back on the ground.

Pina's legacy astounds me.  (I admit I only know what I just saw.)  But, I saw the legacy she left with her company, how she changed them and their movement.  I want that.

I'm sure a normal reaction to that movie is as follows:  I want to be a dancer!  No, but really... I want to be a dancer. I want to reconnect with the one thing that I've felt missing from my life for the past eight years.  I gave up dance for theater, and simply, I think I want it back.

This is all just introspection and reflection.  I think both my copy of Portrait of the Artist and my tap shoes have been gathering dust long enough.