If I can get it finished to my satisfaction I will post a piece on Monday from my memoir written using the framework of momentous or embarrassing dancing incidents, of which I have had very many. A snippet here: I will link it up to 3qd on Monday morning
From my autobiography in progress “My Life in Dance – a Motional History of my Body”
I wish to set out here my own experiences with dance as honestly as good taste will permit. I have a body, one that is a little succulent and that moistly disinclines when bidden to perform arts of great strenuousness. It is not a body apt to move all that prettily. For all of that, I have tried to bend it to my will, commanding it often enough to skitter across the floor in a rhythmic and frolicsome fashion and I have witnessed its failure with displeasure. Though I can leap and skip and jump and hop, the sum of these gyrations don’t seem to add up to dance. However, in perverse inverse to my skill, dancing has been a component of several of my more arresting developmental moments. I relate one here.