I took a dance workshop, years and years ago - like double decades - with one of my favorite solo dance artists at the time.
The room was packed. We all stood expectantly, nervous and excited to learn from her.
As we waited for her to arrive, we shifted our weight, stretched our arms over our heads, and kicked our legs to get ready for what promised to be a big moving and extraordinary dance experience.
As we waited, we practiced moving our bodies in the way we had seen her move her body -- we couldn't wait to get dancing with her.
When she did arrive, she came in so quietly that some didn’t see her for a minute or two.
She was wearing her standard: blue tutu skirt, flounced out far, striped tights, a button down shirt with a tie, and big black combat boots. Many dancers were in similar outfits, hoping to be as fierce and wild as she.
We expected that kind of boldness from her -- she had come to be known for it.
What we didn't expect was, that without a word, she knelt down, pressed her ear to the floor, knocked knocked, and said, “Hello?”
(drawing of the wee people)Read More