Human Clay

Had another fun dance class last night. It still amazes me that folks keep coming back.

I really do enjoy the teaching parts. It's hard to explain things at times, but that's half the fun of it. I remember my teachers giving a little poke or prod to me to get my posture corrected, a bit more range of movement, or to stop an offending appendage from moving when it shouldn't be.

I've really been blessed by some fantastic dance teachers! Eugenia was my ballet teacher in college. I'd come to those classes with a sketchy knowledge of ballet cobbled together from what classes and training I could get as a kid without a car or parents willing to drive me to class. I started in her Beginning Ballet classes and just loved them. She had a steely grace about her - always soft spoken and calm. Yet she had a full body fitness and strength that illuminated her. She was well into her 60s, yet she had the most beautiful body I'd ever seen. All of 4'10", compact and defined as an artist's model. And she moved like silk over steel. Gorgeous strong arm movements, jumps that felt like she floated. And she would gently propel the class where she wanted it to go. Never demeaning, but she would push you through your frustration. One little touch, a small poke, and your movement would change just enough to work properly. It was wonderful discipline for me at an age where I had no direction, and no clue what a direction would look like if it hit me over the head.

I've had well over a dozen belly dance teachers in my life, but the ones that truly stand out are only two individuals. One was a teacher many, many years ago at Pennsic. I had just gotten dragged up around the fire to dance, the others insisting I could do it. I had no idea what I was doing, I was terrified! Liquid courage propelled me that evening, but the next day I headed off to the belly dance classes that were offered in the hopes of having a clue. One teacher, and I have no idea what her name was, was just gorgeously graceful. She looked Indian, and had obviously taken Indian dance and ballet. Her posture made her look 6' tall, despite her being about my height. She, like Eugenia, moved with grace and ease. I can't even remember what the subject matter was, yet I remember learning a lot in that 1 hour about the differences between a Middle Eastern dancer and a belly bunny. I came away from that class with a goal of how I wanted to look while dancing.

And then there was Ansuya. I'm sure you're all sick of me waxing poetic about Ansuya, but she really made me into the dancer I wanted to be. I came to Ansuya's classes with a friend who just wanted company and thought I'd enjoy them. Boy oh boy was she right. Every Thursday, we would drive over to the Santa Monica YWCA and dance for 3 hours at a time. I'd come out of there sweating and starving. I finally learned turns and facial expressions. I learned how a combination is put together. I learned to be comfortable with wherever my body wants to go and just flow. Whereas the other teachers I mentioned were more the quiet grace sort of dancers, Ansuya's a firecracker! Bam! And she's on the dance floor! I loved that you couldn't look away from whatever she was doing. She had intensity and fire that I could relate to. I love that about her dancing, and I try to bring that to mine. Dance should be visually interesting - that's the point! And she gave me a key to bringing my personality's intensity forward and present it in dancing. Granted, I usually use it to tell visual jokes, but sometimes that's just as surprising as a sharp move.