To Beauty.

An Essay By Bridget // 11/3/2011

Today, I became a swing dancer.  I love it. I will be a swing dancer for the rest of my life.  And I think that for a beginner, I'm fairly good at it.  I could go on forever about swing dancing - it's so fluid, so beautiful, but kind of sexy at the same time.  And I don't mean my partner was sexy.  The dance was sexy, in the subtlest way, like a long-lashed girl peeking from behind her books or a guy sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging with a slight smile.  It wasn't that the moves were suggestive or sensual or anything demeaning like that.  It was just beautiful.  Sinuous.  I wish I could explain it better.  It wasn't even that the dance brought you close to the other person.  The laughter does that.  The dance brings you closer to itself, until you see the other person as another part of the dance, and you are both moving as naturally as breathing.  This is when the world fades into the background and you come forward, and you are part of the dance and so is the other person.  And at the same time, you are part of the world, and you are alive and it doesn't matter if you are clumsy or ugly or if you are failing that math class.  At that moment, everything is beautiful.


Now I want to learn swing......

That just made me happy, period. You're descriptions were nice, and it's refreshing to hear something called sexy that isn't the mainstream sort of sexy, if that makes sense. Lovely job.

Erin | Mon, 11/28/2011

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

 I love swing dancing--I love

 I love swing dancing--I love the music, and the repetition, and the not-knowing-what's-next (yes, I just contradicted myself), and the breathlessness, and indeed the laugher. And I'm not even good at it.
And you described it perfectly.

Annabel | Mon, 11/28/2011