Blogging since high school and I'll never stop. Something, somewhere needs to be the outlet of my expression. I hope you can see where I'm coming from.
"Like a tiny floret which sparks in a blink. A firework of roses and the night floods in. While opinions matter and fall behind, when the room is empty and had its fill. When all the world is deaf and blind, she loves the dance and dances still."
NOTE: The images are not always mine, but the ideas most certainly are.
After having neglected the Dance portion of the New York Times for far too long, I decided to catch up. What is the first article that catches my eye? A critique on one of my favorite shows on television: So You Think You Can Dance. Do I understand that this show is based on high ratings, dizzying lights, elaborate costumes, and teary eyed drama? Yes. And I love every second. I admit, the lack of classical choreography and densely packed combos of turns and leaps are flaws in the show's makeup, but it brings dance into the homes of many who don't consider dance to be an athletic endeavor. This article shook me out of an entrancing stupor full of British accents, phony laughs, and competition-girl smiles. Are children going to be in awe of a world renown teacher of ballet, or will they only care about how many YouTube hits they have and whether or not they choreographed for Nigel Lythgoe? It's certainly not the most important issue in the dance world, but it's one to think about.