Why, indeed. If it’s money, prestige, essential resources, steady work, dependability, an easy life that you’re looking for, walk right on by the door that says “dancer.” Or “artist,” for that matter. Really.
But if you hunger for an epic adventure in your own mind, body and soul, jump on the bus. It’s all here for you.
Watching some participants rehearse yesterday at David Dorfman Dance’s summer workshop served up a roaringly radiant illustration of why I dance. Because it’s magical. Because it’s so bloody beautiful and frustrating, rich and mysterious, exhausting and exhilarating. It’s so achingly tied up with our essence that it makes us cry from the challenge and soar from the inspiration.
Part of the magic is the creative part. On Monday morning when we all started, there was no piece. And a mere 7 days later there were about 25 dancers painting kinesthetically an indelible, gorgeous moment. Well, actually about 10 breathless, sweat-drenched, dramatic minutes. Working together, these passionate souls flew, fell, lifted each other, gestured, ran, paused in patterns that swept and stilled the space. They glowed with a hyper- awareness of each other that allowed them to make art as a team.
They gave it all they had. And more.
This abbondanza, this abundance of passion, skill, talent, commitment, vision, creativity, is what I and other artists feast on, albeit while we’re starving in other ways. It’s what we spin with our souls where once there was nothing.
And while I won’t give up the fight for artists to be rewarded for their immeasurable value with money, insurance, studio space and other resources, I’m so grateful for these priceless, shimmering jewels of dance and art in my life, along with the artists who make them.
I hope you have the magic of art in your life. GO MAKE ART. Or support someone else’s. Or, best of all, do both .