Nike could be the official sponsor of my belly dancing...

And hey, if they wanted to pay me ridiculous royalties to dance in special Nike-gear bellydance shoes, I'd be down for that.

Warning, this is so ramble-y and long! I blame multi-tasking and my lack of interest in editing my writing down to perfect, article-like form.

I've been thinking a lot about my dancing lately (my self-confidence has been wavering a bit lately). I suppose it's normal and happens to everyone, so I'm honestly not that bent out of shape about it. Mostly, I just haven't been practicing like I usually do. There's no one reason, it's just an endless cycle of feeling dissatisfied with myself, so I can't muster up the inclination to practice, and then I'm dissatisfied with myself for being lazy.

I finally had to write the bio for my webpage and did research on it by reading what other people had written. Most common opening? "Bob is a life-long dancer." Well, I'm not. I think my parents had me in some kind of dance/theater-type thing when I was a toddler (I have photographic evidence but I'm frightened to ask about it further... Looking at the face paint, there could be a relation to my dislike of clowns...). But I didn't take ballet. Or jazz. Or tap. Or etc. etc. etc. I wasn't even allowed to be a cheerleader, so I don't even have *that* background. Ask for a demo of how I danced pre-bellydance sometime. I'll try to duplicate it.

So, unlike all these other amazing dancers, I started dancing in my mid-twenties. I didn't think I'd be any good at it. As some totally impossible goal, I wanted to be able to dance like Ariellah but, mainly, I wanted to make friends outside of work and maybe have female friends again (I had some when I was in my engineering fraternity in college and it's nice having lady friends with similar interests - I love being one of the guys, but they sometimes come with super-jealous SO's and then I'm out a friend). I didn't find out about the dance troupes in my area until after I moved to California though. Oops.

I think the thing that saved me was that I *didn't* worry about being good at it. I just did it. It was a way to get some extra exercise (I was into running and lifting but dancing was a new way to work on flexibility and balance that didn't bother my wrists like yoga did (I started yoga off DVDs, too, and it was a while before I learned how to distribute my weight correctly). It was a few months before I got into classes at all and, when I did, I still wasn't really looking to be good at dancing.

Then, I learned about *workshops* and I got to take one with Ariellah. I really couldn't keep up and it was totally above my level but that workshop was the turning point for me. I went from being convinced I'd never be any good at it to thinking, "Wow. I can actually study with Ariellah. If I can learn *from her*, I might one day be *good* at this." Ariellah's one of those great, down-to-earth dancers who will talk about how it just takes practice and then she'll tell stories about when her technique wasn't as flawless as it is now. That had a pretty big impression on me.

So, I practiced more, I took workshops, I started driving a hundred miles to OC for classes. My technique started getting better and I really started to believe in myself.

I was on a high from taking all the workshops at Gothla (including Ariellah and Romka), when I was asked to perform at a club I regularly attended (it's where I met my darling boyfriend, too). Was I ready? Probably not. I trusted the opinion of the promoter/DJ of the event. If she thought I was worth hiring to perform, there must be something to it, right? So, I just did it (see what I did there? I finally got to Nike). I whipped up a choreo for a sword performance. Why sword? 1) I'd have a weapon if people hated it and 2) my sword is my partner when I dance, so I didn't feel so alone out there... Of course, I forgot my choreo a couple of times, and I had to adapt it on the spot since my audience was on four sides and I'd choreographed to my mirrors. I got through it though. And the first time is DEFINITELY the hardest.

Actually, my first time was a performance with a class I'd joined *that day* doing a choreo I'd learned in a city-run course. I tend to not count it though.

I think the secret to getting where I am as fast as I have (and I have to CONSTANTLY remind myself how short a time I've been dancing, especially now, when I get frustrated with myself) is that I don't really hesitate. I just do it. I decided I wanted to learn veil-work. I approached someone about private lessons but she would never get back to me about times/dates, so I learned from DVDs.

That's right, my single and double veil work? I've never had a minute of real instruction. It's *ALL* DVD. I can't even practice it that much. I pretty much have to rent a studio to have any kind of practice. So, you know, it's not as good as I'd hope.

Despite this, I started performing with veil. If I start second-guessing myself, I could easily see myself slipping into a pattern of never doing anything. I didn't develop any performing skill by practicing over and over at home (I did develop belly dancing skill by practicing over and over at home, performing is a different story). I did it by performing for an audience. A lot. I could watch video and see how my technique suffers in front of an audience, how I would get "thinking" face, or how my first improvisational performances were *really* repetitive, etc. It gave me things to work on in my practice (I get that from seeing my veil performances, too, choosing to perform with it has given my practice focus).

Sidenote: funny thing about double veil? Repetitive is good... People seem to like it when you spin for a really long time. I find this kind of funny. All that time practicing so I *wouldn't* be repetitive and then I learn double veil and just SPIN. Or choo-choo shimmy my veil out of my butt-tuck, as happened when I was practicing Saturday.

I learned from performing and I think I did it faster than I ever would have if I kept my dancing to classes and practice. I also took other opportunities to learn. I learned improvisation from going to DJ Xian's clubs and dancing to whatever she played. In my opinion, the BEST way to learn improvisation is to have no clue what's coming next. Then, you start thinking in terms of ebb and flow of music and how to feel an upcoming moment, so you can match it.

And you can't worry about missing it either! Kind of like how you can't worry about dropping your sword or getting your veil tangled up. Belly dancing isn't *easy* and it takes work. Screwing up comes with the territory. I've done it so many times, I've lost count (my first improvisational sword performance? My sword slipped off the back of my head and I had to catch it - I was performing at a wedding, too). Not to mention the near accidents I've had! I can watch videos of me dancing and talk about that time I almost tripped and fell over (total klutz, remember?), or my sword started slipping and I had to recover it, or I made myself really, really dizzy and was spotting to a blur so I could still have the effect of spotting (yesterday? That totally happened. Most of my spotting was fake). I bet if someone just watched it (watched, not scrutinized), they couldn't find those moments. I didn't order the DVD but there was a moment early on in my Punk Raqs performance where I tore off a callus. I was in so much pain, I couldn't put my shoes on after performing and I've been limping around the apartment. I bet the moment it happened couldn't be found. I doubt anyone could even tell I was in pain (and I was doing crossover and paddle turns with that tender spot rubbing against the carpet). Things happen and you can't spend your whole life freaking out over possibilities.

Just do it.