Belly dancing lesson #2

I'’m finding belly dancing class a bit like geometry. Each week we build on what we learned the week prior. But if you didn't really cement last week's knowledge -- my story in both realms -- you'll have a bit of trouble with the new skills heaped on top of it.

Last night we learned '‘snake arms.'’ It looks so easy. Elbow, wrist, hand. Elbow, wrist, hand. And again, the great Middle Eastern music. We were practicing away and then the teacher had us traipse across the room in pairs so she could watch our form. And we could check our form in the big mirrors. Think of what Frankenstein'’s monster would look like doing snake arms. That'’s what it looked like. And it felt that way, too. On the isolations it'’s much easier to delude yourself into thinking you are a natural, or at the least not completely silly. Not so with the arms. That intentional flailing about reminded me of a quote from Sarah Vowell. "I moved through time and space with the grace and confidence of a puppy walking on a beach ball." (Listen to Sarah's marching band essay on This American Life episode 104, about 22 minutes into the show.)