Daily Prompt: Dance Dance Dance

Daily Prompt: Let’s Dance

In my earliest memories of dancing, I’m under my auntie Nancy’s dining room table, (which had been pushed off to the side of the room), watching my mom, dad, aunties, and uncles all dancing on the hardwood floor to a never-ending stack of 45 records, dropping one after the other. I remember foot-high stacks of 45s all around the record player. The song that I remember playing most? Twistin’ the Night Away by Sam Cooke. Every time I hear that song, I remember auntie’s spontaneous dance parties. What are your earliest and fondest memories of dance?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us MOVEMENT.

Dancing was never, ever a big part of my family. I danced as a young girl, ballet and tap, but I was in embarrassingly sequined outfits and makeup that I could not wait to take off.

And my rhythm was about as smooth as a drunk toddler trying to walk.

That is, until you put me in a country bar where just last night I reached the point to where I am the first one out on the dance floor and I actually know what I’m doing without having to watch other people.

My body feels fixed the night of and morning after dancing. I sleep best after a night of dancing. And I’ve lost 10 pounds thanks to my new passion. And my lack of spacial awareness goes away on the dance floor, much like a stutterer’s impediment exits the moment she steps on the stage to sing.

To me, dance = pure bliss. See:


(That’s me with my dance girls … See my mile-wide, life-filled smile? Bliss.)


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