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26 November 2006 @ 06:18 pm
Theatrical Muse: Week 154: Question 154  
Name: Dr. Sid Hammerback

Fandom: CSI: New York

Word Count: 820


Dance.


I am a New Yorker, and this is a tall and proud and true fact. I live in a city that is alive with a multitude of different cultures and wisdoms, with the fashions and predilections of society as multifaceted as tiny glass beads. It has as many roads as strings in fairy floss and as many stories as there are letters in War and Peace. This place that I call home is in my blood, it is my life. It can die in places, in areas, and it can fall, but as far as I see it, as far as I know it, it will never, ever, go away. For me, where I have come from intrinsically forms a part of who I am, and because of the fact that I come from a place rich in diversity, I enjoy many, many things. I love life, and I live life, and to be at the most obvious level of frank honesty, I have seen so many things, both normal and wildly unbelievable.

Make no mistake, I enjoy life, I really do. But this city, it is big and magnificent, and despite the sheer monstrous size of the buildings and the endless mazes of alleyways and back streets, you can not escape what happens here once it occurs. Of course, this fact I have always been aware of in some way or another, but nothing drove it home as hard as the destruction of the Twin Towers, the ending of my life as bizarrely normal and softly peaceful. I have, yes, returned much to the same kind of state as I was previous to that day, but, this is New York City. What affects one of us affects more than use, and what affects a lot of us exceeds beyond a simple denotation of numbers and expands beyond the boundaries of companionship and honor. This city, in its occasional rampant malfeasance, is still our home; it still shelters and supports us with life.

During my life I have danced many different dances. The one of romance, the one of companionship, the one of friendship, working relationships, love, parenthood, family. Life is, without a doubt, a very large dance, the certain acts and aspects of which depends on the situation present at hand. You can swing, twirling your arms around your head, but that still might not make you a good dancer or an able person. And it doesn’t even matter if you just stay still. What matters is what happens inside, what a person feels on the inside, what drives them to move, to dance, to live. I have, in my life, lost the ability to perform certain dances, because of the absence or changing relationships between certain people. Things change during the course of a person’s life, and because I am true to this fact, I have changed with these differences in my set course. I have learnt to deal with tragedy, I have managed to deal with pain, and I have enjoyed joy, love, magnificence and pure brilliance. I have been, unlike some, privy to a world, a multitude of wonders, pleasures and delights, and even though some of them, are now, gone, I live still. I dance still.

Physical dance though? Yes, that I too enjoy. It combines that drive for life, that I was talking about earlier, with an expression of what lies within, through movement. Dancing, the movement, is part direction, part happenstance, and sheer bliss. I am, as it happens, particular to that blessed school of ordered movement, ballet, but, ingrown as I am to my home of NYC, I dance other steps, other movements. My body sings different songs, but ballet is where I can shine with years of teaching and knowledge. I am quite stretchy, as some may believe, and that certainly helps.

So, the question prevails. What is dancing? If I can gather my thoughts correctly and honestly, which I have, dancing is part what you know, and part what you can think up. Whether we are talking about the metaphor, life as a dance, the variants of which account for different relationships and occurrences, then yes, this is applicable. It also pertains to the physicality that dance can be. That select, precise art of moving to music or no music, to beat or no beat, the one that drinks up spirit, and twirls out brilliant light and happiness. The end conclusion? Dancing is whatever it will be, to anyone that chooses to acknowledge it. And even if they don’t care, even if they follow one lines and no other, the dance is still there. I think of the human race, often, as an inspired people, because, for all our terror and our horror, we prevail, we live, we see happiness, we see sadness. Irrelevant of what comes our way, however it goes about in the end, we still dance, magnificently.
 
 
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