the craftsman the poet

There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman. Emile Zola

the old adage about performance being 10 per cent inspiration, 90 per cent perspiration, so true. this week back to dance class… technique, coaching, choreography, bata de cola, the latter looking so beautiful, so elegant, a skirt with 16 meters of fabric which the dancer must “fly”, all the while maintaining amazing posture, line, keep in compas… make it look natural/easy. 

so why do we practice such an esoteric art form? I’m not sure any of us can quite answer this… it’s our addiction/our passion… the thing that makes difficult times bearable and good times, amazing… it’s both a celebration and a salve.

easy? not at all. hard physical and mental work. years and years of practice that only now are beginning (and the operative is beginning) to pay off. 

all I know is that it makes me a better writer. a better human being. that the artform speaks to me on a very deep level. that without exception, my fellow dancers all have a story to tell. this is not hobby, this is not recreation, this is central to our lives. and that it takes a lifetime to begin even a tiny bit of mastery is not

daunting. Not one little bit. in fact, this is the gift.

 

oh and anyone worth her weight in flamenco will note the hands… more work needed. much more… so it goes…

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