By Tony Wan
This post is part of 30 Days of Gaga. A Non-Dancer’s Diary of Dance. Read Day 1.
Day 2
It’s my second day taking Gaga classes. I have no desire to become a dancer, yet there’s something here for me.
I’m just not sure what.
We’re in a different studio on the third floor. Through the side window over the rooftops, I can see the Mediterranean Sea.
It’s a smaller class, but the class starts the same. The teacher puts on music and walks into the center of the room. Her choice of music is lower, and slower.
Without words, she beckons us towards her with her arms. I am completely mesmerized by how this teacher moves. Not of this earth. Maybe the sea.
Am I in love? I might be in love… Earth to Tony! Come back to class.
With a Hebrew accent that makes everything more intriguing, she invites us to connect to our bones, flesh, and skin.
“Feel as if your spine is seaweed.”
I like that. Now if only I could move my spine that way.
“Feel as if your arms are a rope floating in water.”
Uh, what?
When I look at how she’s moving, I see what she means. Like an optical illusion, her arms indeed look like “rope floating in water”. WTF!
The class is doing it too… more or less. The same movement expresses itself differently in all the bodies around me.
I try to do the “rope in water” thing. But my arms do not float. They tread water. And belong to the Tin Man.
To sense more, I close my eyes.
Mentally, I’m WD-40ing my rusty joints when I hear the teacher say something I can’t make out; then, more loudly: “OPEN YOUR EYES.”
Oh, shit. She’s talking to me.
“Eyes open,” she says, “to stay connected with what’s around you.”
Sounds easy, but damn, it’s hard to do. Like rubbing your tummy while patting your head.
At the halfway point of class, we’re sitting on the ground with our legs stretched out in front of us. She guides us to “massage something with our feet.”
Holy crap, her feet. HER FEET! She can articulate all the toes, the arch, and bones I didn’t even know existed. My feet are slabs of meat. Her feet are alive.
Her feet look like an octopus, curling, twisting, deforming as they move across the sea floor.
I want feet like that.
Santa, for Christmas, please give me octopus feet.
Now, that’s something I never thought I’d say. But since I plan to be naughty this year, I can’t count on Santa. I need to do this on my own.
Small steps. A less ambitious sea creature. A starfish perhaps? Maybe not. I’ve seen them on YouTube. Those fuckers can move. Maybe a sea slug.
Yeah, a sea slug.
Next class, I’m going to totally rock sea slug feet.
After that, who knows?
Attend your Day 1 of Gaga in Tel Aviv
Attend your Day 1 of Gaga around the world
Follow Tony Wan’s journey through a full month of classes with biweekly posts here and on his blog.
