The Art of Happiness

I made the mistake, the other day, of watching myself dance on tape, and there, inside those 90 seconds, were all the demons that have forever chased me. I still don't quite yet believe in me on a stage. Don't believe that I belong beneath the lights, or that my turn has come.

But yesterday, while taking a lesson with the ever-brilliant Jean Paulovich (who will tomorrow be dancing with his very beautiful and equally talented wife, Iryna, on the Music Pier of Ocean City), I did my best to listen to what he had to say. And the thing is: He was not talking only about the spine and the chin and the arrangement of the head, not just imploring me (again) to wait. He was saying the simplest thing—that happiness counts, that joy has its place, that when you really love dance, the way I believe I love dance, passion alone should settle one's frame into the escalation and hush of music. It should be the story your face tells.

It's something I should have known myself, of course. Something, certainly, that the kids of Dancing Classrooms have taught me. My photo today is of Philadelphia's most recent winners, a glorious team taught by my friend and fellow dancer, Linda Camardo.

I'm writing about vulnerability and storytelling on the HarperTeen blog, a fabulous myspace site, today. The link is here, below. For giving me room there, and for being tremendously responsive, I thank Lisa Bishop.

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=72210576&blogID=409718323