My back against the wall, I sit alone on the bench running alongside the wooden dancefloor. Music from the live jazz band washes over me and with my feet pressed against the ground I can feel it pulsing, beating into my blood. My eyes are mesmerized by the artfully shifting feet of strangers and friends. They twirl, slide, and step; skirts whirling and toes tapping as they make use of the space and their partners' acrobatics. I watch in envy and admiration, nearly in a trance-like state from my rapt observation. A warm, amber halo is lent to the room from the string of tiny, colored lanterns that criss-cross the ceilng. In this light the entire room seems to belong in an in-between time and place; it is not night nor is it day and with the songs of past eras and moves of our grandparents it seems a moment from the history books. Have I stumbled into a ring, a place where times overlaps and sometimes we meet with past, present and future? Maybe I just need some air...
A clearer look at yesterday's day garment and the outfit I wore to the Swing/Jazz Club.
0 comments:
Post a Comment