Posts tagged “dance

To the End of Love

Show Me Slowly
What I only Know the Limits of

And Dance Me
To the End of Love

~ Leonard Cohen


Danse Mystique


Evokes the Mystery ~


Without which the World
Would not Exist.

Khmer dancers

~ Rene Magritte


1.) Michael Freeman Photography
2.) RONI Photography
3.) Michael Freeman Photography

Unleash the Spirit


Once we
Believe in ourselves


We can risk Curiosity,

bellydance hands

Spontaneous Delight ~


Or any Experience
That Reveals


The Human Spirit.

~ ee cummings


1) Tumblr
2) WeHeartIt
3) Al Bruni
4) Lainiec
5) WeHeartIt

The Dancer and the Moon

I do not intent to tiptoe through life merely to arrive safely at the end…

…not that Sister Madly could if she wanted to. Let’s face it: she is more than capable of becoming entangled in her own shadow.


The Blue Moon can be a pretty interesting place even if one does not gamble, karaoke, or has made the irrational decision to abstain from alcohol for no reason whatsoever. The velvet walls have a certain appeal, and the clientele ranges from clean to drunk to trashy to weird- and that’s weird as in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory Boat Ride weird.

So when the Professors announced they were meeting up at the Blue Moon later that night, it was hardly a surprise to hear Sister Madly accept.

Also, it had a juke box, which pleased Sister Madly.


The bartender is a surly ol‘ fella who whole-heartedly blames the FDA for not regulating the amount of carbs in ravioli and coming up with a substitute that keeps one slender and fabulous. It’s said that he keeps a bottle of A-1 Sauce filled with whiskey behind the counter- a necessity, no doubt, when video poker is the soundtrack of your life.

Or maybe it’s filled with A-1 Sauce. But he keeps it behind the counter.

That was the night Sister Madly encountered a rather engaging- if somewhat exaggerated- South American, who claimed to be a former ballroom dancer. It wasn‘t long before the colorful patrons of the Blue Moon were encouraging him to entertain them with these supposed talents. But when not one of the colorful patrons volunteered to be his partner, he turned to Sister Madly.

Do you Cha-Cha, Senorita?

Now, Sister Madly has been known to dance- in the dark, with herself and absolutely no apologies to the people downstairs- so her affirmative answer was not technically misleading. However, had she been fluent in heavily-accented English-as-a-Second-Language, she would have realized that Do you Cha-Cha, Senorita? translated to Are you, in fact, a 4-Time World Champion Ballroom Dancer specializing in the Foxtrot?


In the movies, when the non-gambling, teetotalling underdog is asked to dance, she is dressed to the nines, knows all the steps, and dances with the utmost elegance and grace into the heart of America. Sister Madly was dressed for the excessive heat, hadn’t a clue how to use her feet, and was at times flung with wild abandon into the heart of the crowd.

Imagine, if you will, an Argentinean Sophisticate attempting to Foxtrot to the Fairytale of New York with a Rag Doll who was doing her best to look coordinated and dignified- and who failed appallingly. Never had the floor so repeatedly hurdled upwards at her body, nor had there ever been such flailing of limbs without smacking someone across the face. She also learned that night just how many times she can twist her legs around each without breaking something important first, which she had wondered about in the past. The Argentinean Sophisticate retained enough sense not to attempt any lifts, as Sister Madly surely would have found herself swinging across the bar from the chandelier- medieval style.

Their dance ended not only with the music, but with a final gesture that sent Sister Madly into a chair that rolled down the hall and into the kitchen, where she ordered the onion rings the Professors had requested 10 minutes before.

He may have been a ballroom dancer, but not necessarily a good one.


Let us just say it’s best that Sister Madly dances in the dark.

POST’S THEME SONG: The Fairytale of New York, the Pogues