Move Me

"What goes through your mind when you’re dancing?"

"Nothing. Thinking is the biggest mistake a dancer can make. You have to feel it.
Let the music move you. You can only have control, as a dancer, when you forfeit it completely."

-Michael Jackson

I remember my first experience in a speech class. It was in high school, and although I was very much averse to public speaking at the time, it was a prerequisite for graduating (which wouldn’t have mattered, as I was expelled from that school shortly after anyhow). I remember the first speech I had to give…the assignment was to give a speech on anything, but to incorporate gestures into it. Diligent student that I was, I arrived to class that morning, late, with absolutely no idea what I was going to give a speech on. Nor did I know when I raised my hand immediately when the teacher asked if anyone wanted to go first, and by the time I made it up to the podium and turned to face the class I still didn’t know. For a moment I felt gripped in panic…but then it suddenly slipped away. Like I was leaning up against a screen door and tore through it into the cool outdoors. I felt the crowd’s eyes on me, and found myself strangely comforted and empowered by their attention….words suddenly began coming out of my mouth with all the ease of normal conversation, only with the etiquette and command of a presentation. I followed the rules, gestured accordingly, and went on to eventually become the teacher’s model speech student.

I’ve always been one to "wing it," as it’s said. Anything, really. I find that I operate best in the present, and generally enter a situation with as little planning as possible, and it applies to everything….from the way I play chess, to the way I fuck a woman…and I’ve almost come to regard it in terms of a somewhat religious concept– the clearing of one’s mind so as to tap into some sort of trembling God-like inspiration that lingers just beneath the surface of expectation…something you can only allow yourself to be moved by, in amazing ways you couldn’t possible force.

It is this attribute that lies at the heart of my fondness for the act of dancing. Beautiful and fluid motion in the the absence of thought…the exquisite type of control that comes from essentially having none. Not all dancing qualifies, of course…and it’s rather easy to tell based on the way someone moves whether or not they are tapping into what I mention above, or are just forcing themselves to blend in with the crowd, or some other equally petty ulterior motive. Professional dancing is preferred, or private dancing (or both), and I hold no bias regarding gender when it comes to the appeal. Although watching women dance does turn me on more than anything else they could possibly do, I extract just as much aesthetic pleasure in watching a man dance, if he knows how and does it well. The problem, really, is just that so few men know how to do it…