silence

I have rediscovered silence.

As a dancer, I realize that a moment of stillness can be more powerful than the most complicated movement a mind can conjure. Stillness can be captivating when it comes when you least expect it. Although there is nothing taking place, that moment is full, full of emotion, or tension, or suspense. But stillness is hard to accomplish, especially when all you want to do is move. 

In a way, stillness in dance is as important as silence in life. Silence is difficult for many of us, so we fill our lives with noise. Background noise, foreground noise, nervous chatter. Sometimes, being silent can reveal more than any amount of discussion could tease apart.

As someone who sometimes relishes silence, I take comfort in this fact.

But lately, I've forgotten the importance of silence. And sitting on the living room floor, in front of the fireplace, I once again found peace in the lack of any human voices. Someone I love told me, as he turned off my music in the background, 'Sometimes, I just like listening to the sound of the fire'. 

And sometimes, I just like listening to the sound of the fire, too.

cold tantrums

It's that time of year again.
Winter.
In Dunedin.

Now most people will say that I shouldn't complain. It hardly snows in Dunedin! And it barely reaches freezing temperatures! Ithaca, New York is colder. But what they don't understand is that central heating has yet to catch on in New Zealand. With most homes lacking insulation, the inside temperature often matches the outside temperature, and your time is preoccupied with figuring out how to stay warm. To add to the frustration, power is expensive, so heating your flat all day is not an option on a student's budget.

Last winter my toes became inflamed, like little angry red sausages, so I went to the doctor. The doctor said I had chilblains.

It turns out this happens when your feet get too cold. And not only did Cosette in Les Miserables have them, but so did I. Often confused with frostbite, the only cure is to make sure your feet stay warm and dry. It's like I've stepped back in time: cold houses, mediaeval illnesses, and the daily mission to fulfill the primal need of warmth.

Well, the chilblains are back in full force this year, and I've had my first cold tantrum of the season (you know, when you're so cold you start to wine like a child?). Sadly, it probably won't be my last.

But winter, despite all my wingeing, is absolutely beautiful. That I can't deny.

this is strangely beautiful

A man lost his underwater digital camera in Aruba, and it was found over 1,100 miles away in Florida. Using the pictures on the camera and the magic of the internet, it was reunited with it's owner.

But, the best part is this: along the journey, a sea turtle captured a video with the camera when it somehow became attached to its shell. Although accidental, I think it is beautiful. I don't think I'm alone in my inherent desire to see through the eyes of an animal, to see the world as he or she sees it. This tumultuous ride of rushing blue and blinding sunlight, flash of shell and blip of sound, is a small glimpse into 5 minutes of this turtle's day. It's captivating and completely intriguing in all that it reveals, and even more in what it holds out of reach, just beyond my grasp.


Of course, I think he may have been preoccupied with wriggling free from this pesky manmade contraption. But you never know, you never know.

More often than not.

I'm at a loss for words.

And even more often than that, I wish I had said something. But didn't.

That's why I write, because it takes me longer than the mere seconds it might take to say this sentence aloud, to actually create this sentence.
...well, maybe not this particular sentence, but you see my point.

Usually, what I want to say will in some way be said, it just might take awhile.

Thank you for being patient.