I’m not fooling any one, am I?  Alright – I found Etsy.  With its plethora of original and affordable art, I saw it as great opportunity to own original pieces by artists whose work just may appreciate in value.  And by the looks of the talent on the site, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m not too far off base.   In particular, I stumbled across Elis Cooke, an artist residing in Ontario, and am completely smitten by everything that she creates.  She does everything I like:  color, movement, interesting uses of space and she seems to create from an internal space I find very honest.  The girl’s got Soul!

I love this one titled “Trail Marks”.  Every time I look at it I see something different – just today, I swore I saw a centaur!  Aren’t the colors yummy?  And the movement!  Absolutely divine!

Elis also created this one titled “A Quiet Space”.  It’s a good reminder for me (and maybe you, too) to make time for quiet and be still.  There are few elements more powerful in Oriental Dance and life than stillness.  Sometimes, we just need to stop and gaze.

I would love for Elis to surpass the popularity of Picasso (and make me very rich in the process) but am just as content to have a few of her pieces to enjoy personally .  I appreciate her work so much that I feel  prosperous in just looking at them.

Any way I look at it,  it’s a win-win situation.  I get inspiring art that may appreciate in value and in the process I get to support a fellow artist.  I still have lots of looking and research to do, but wanted to share my latest activity and inspiration with you.  I hope you find the time to visit Elis and others on Etsy – and perhaps be on your way to thinking about how to diversify your investments – financially and otherwise.

I used to think it was harder dancing for an empty room than when the venue is packed.  I felt like I had to compensate for the missing energy in the room and found myself drained as a result.  So, every time I walked into an empty venue, I braced myself for a so-so and tiring dance experience.  As you can imagine, that line of thinking didn’t do a whole lot for me.  But you know what? I’ve made a discovery.

I have found that the more I put into a performance in terms of energetic presence and emotional commitment, the more satisfying the experience – regardless of the number of people in the room.  It’s even true in my personal practice.  This shift in thinking has made my performances more rewarding for me and hopefully for the people who come to watch me. I think it’s the Law of Gratitude at work.  I’m still working with it and have some kinks to work out, but I think I’m on to something here.

Case in point:  last night I worked hard, with an appropriate energetic intensity for the two tables that were present.  I was immersed in the music and the emotional channel between feeling and expression was clean and clear.  It wasn’t as if I had my audience’s full attention so much as it was that we were having a really dynamic and interesting three-way conversation: between me, the audience and the music.  It was great!

Afterward, one of the women in the audience approached me to thank me for my performance.  She gave me one of the best compliments I could receive at this point in my creative development.  She told me that she could feel the emotion, that there was a spiritual quality to the experience and that she was struck with how expressive the dancing was.  Her words meant a lot to me because these three elements are what I strive to encapsulate through my dances.  It was very rewarding to know that what I send out is received.  I also have a sneaking suspicion that we may have a new belly dance recruit!

By the end of the first song I saw bodies wiggling in seats. By the time the second song was finished I saw glittering eyes and warm smiles.  By the end of my set several people, including a young girl of about the age of 11, had joined me on the dance floor.  It felt like a celebration.  A celebration of what, I don’t know . . .  maybe a celebration of the fact that we have bodies that can move.  Indeed, that is worthy of celebration.

Which reminds me:  these bodies we have, regardless of ability or mobility,  navigate our way through this 3rd rock from the sun which we call home.  And as such are deserving of a little honor, care and compassion.  I mean seriously, where would we be without them?  I’m sure the quantum physicists among us have some interesting insights to that query, but that’s another topic . . . This particular rumination serves as a reminder to me about how valuable my body is to me.  Without it I wouldn’t have experienced any of the things I’ve found pleasurable, transcendent or meaningful:  like chocolate,  Hesse’s Sidartha, a gut-busting laugh or belly dance.

So, I invite you, whoever you may be with whatever “limitations” or “freedoms” you may have, to find a small way in the coming days to have a little gratitude for the body that is yours.  As for me and this body of mine that works so hard in sharing an art form I love, I’m on my way to soak in a steamy bath with essential oils and candlelight.  And very soon a massage at Skin Deep will be in order.  And that will be my “thank you”.

Just returned from Sea Sprite at Haystack Rock, in Cannon Beach, OR where I sat on my duff and watched the waves.  Everything about it danced in my mind.  The rhythm obeying tides, the rolling and gathering of energy that builds, climaxes and disburses only to repeat with different nuances and textures somewhere else along the shore.  A lot like dancing.

And then there is also this sense of waiting, stillness and patience. When the tide ebbs, all of the tide pools around haystack rock are revealed.  A quick glance and you miss the abundance of life waiting patiently for the ocean’s return.  Finding stillness in the music and being patient with its instruction is one of dance’s most rewarding quests.

There was the sand that rushed about like a ghost with purpose only to vanish in the blink of an eye.  I don’t understand it yet.  That too, is very much like dancing.