Don’t merely spin; unspool.
Replace all your bones with strong, flexible, environmentally conscious bamboo.
Forget how to walk.
You’re not trying to depart; you’re trying to arrive.
Apprentice yourself to a flat tire. Get down!
You are 60% water by weight—start acting like it.
Evaporate. Precipitate. Flow.
Apprentice yourself to a tectonic plate. Subduct!
Practice by following distant celestial bodies through a telescope without a tripod.
Whatever you’re doing, do it while holding an infant.
Dance about architecture, yes, but also about demolition.
Dance on your last legs, which have waited long enough.
Contrary to received wisdom, it actually takes three people to tango, unless you think you can do it without an accordion.
If you can’t dance, don’t worry—it’s not your revolution.
Do-si-do and promenade. Change partners.
Let your partner also change you.
Dervishes whirl because the beloved could be anywhere, anywhere!
Don’t be in such a hurry to finish.
Thanks to RR for a couple of the lines and much of the inspiration.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- How to wake up
- How to eat
- How to walk
- How to listen
- How to wait
- How to breathe
- How to find things
- Manual: How to make videopoems, courtesy of Swoon
- How to lose
- How to dance
- How to procreate
- How to play
- How to listen: the movie
- How to mourn
- How to calculate
- How to grow up
- How to spit
- How to burn
- How to mourn, Belgian-style
- How to make a fist
- How to make a face
- How to sacrifice
- How to take notes
- How to talk
- How to dig
- How to sleep
- How to cast a shadow
- How to teem
- How to fit in
- How to sit
- How to panic
- How to exist
- How to drive
- How to question authority
- How to cook
- How to find things (videopoem)
- How to distress furniture
- How to meditate
- How to be a poet
11 Replies to “How to dance”
I loved this! Perfect for Valentine’s.
I’m going to work on evaporating and precipitating.
Thanks! Good luck with that.
Fantastic work Dave. Very appealing to this ex-choreographer who still dances in private around the easel, sometimes with Jack clasped in embrace in lieu of a bipedal partner! (He always looks happily astonished as I swoop and dive with him, then when I put him down, staggers a bit, shakes himself, and then barks insistently for a game of frisbee outside, pressing me to the studio door and chivvying me downstairs. Ever the opportunist!
Your playful artistry with words always makes me smile in wonder!
Clive, I’m happy and a little surprised that this piece managed to resonate with a former choreographer. I’m even happier to learn your probable Lakota name: Dances With Terriers. :)
HA!!! So my secret is out! (How cleverly you winkle information out of me.)
really liked this!
What I like best about this one is that it starts silly and random, and slowly becomes rather profound, while remaining silly.
Thank you for that helpful analysis of why this might work. I was thinking about the possibly profound, sense-making part as a bug rather than a feature. :)