Southern Reflections

I've been distracted for the past week, not able to really organize my thoughts and my desire to get out and explore the city has been minimal. I'll admit, I'm feeling a bit homesick. I'm positive that a night of dancing would lift me up back to the state of mind I'm usually in, but the prospects of trying to figure out the late-night bus system and worrying about the wishes of everyone else has me a bit haggled. I don't feel safe taking off into an unknown city by my lonesome, but that time alone with myself, my grooves, and the tunes would do more for me than anything else. I haven't gone this long without a solid night of dancing in months... probably like 6 months. The life is draining out of me, bit by bit.

The night our group headed out to Krewe du Vieux my spirits got a good pick me up from the live brass bands marching down the streets.

Upbeat music always takes over my body and releases my mind from whatever grasps might confine it. My hips started swaying, arms started swinging, and before I could even realize what was going on I was dancing. Down the streets, through mazes of people as we chased the colorful parade. "Bee bop doo wop" I thought to myself, forgetting where I was and that people were watching. I'd make eye contact sometimes, and we would both laugh-- I was clearly enjoying myself. As our friends turned the corner, away from the festivities and toward a house party, I felt my heart sinking a bit. Whatever bit of soul I have was reaching out to those musicians, and it was begging me to stay there and dance. But I followed along and left the lively atmosphere. Later on, as we walked back toward the car and past bars, music filled the streets yet again. The weather was cold and uncomfortable but I was warm. I was dancing, on and on and on.

I need freedom of body movement the way some people in Utah need sunshine during long winter days. And I need space. I feel crowded.


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