“Starshine”
Do you know where Stars come from?” asked the little girl.
“Do you know how they came to hang up above our world?”
The mother smiled and replied “this is what I know,
about the Stars and why they give to us their nightly glow.
Deep within a woodland, Princess Keyva sits to play
marvelous airs and phrases that weave the Stars each day.
But the jealous Sun has a plan, to keep us fixed on him,
shining ever brighter so the Stars seem rather dim.
Princess Keyva wondered how to give her Stars their shine,
she pondered for a while, then she asked the Moon Divine.
The Moon was so much kinder and put out a gentler light,
and that is why we see the Stars so brilliantly at night.
Wove from wondrous melodies, those mingling, tuneful keys,
Keyva’s music knits the stars that soar away upon the breeze.
High up and higher still, towards the sky-vault up above,
ever-glowing, twinkling Stars, that hold our dreams and hopes and love.” AE
Count to five….
“Because Books”
My nose tucked deep into a book is not a rare occasion, for when passing any bookstore, I yield to persuasion. My hobby is a habit that isn’t seen as opportune, as I exceed my yearly budget, well before I get to June. I might in lesser moments acknowledge it’s a worry. But not so much that I would turn a new leaf in a hurry. Heaped quite high on dusty shelves, crammed into favorite nooks, arrayed in muddled splendor, are books and books and books! Worn and weathered from re-reading, they creak and crackle when in use, but I’d never change a-single-one, for reasons too abstruse. A curated collection – some are borrowed, some are new, that one’s a birthday present, and this one? Well, I’ve got two. My friends all think I’m barmy, and should be committed soon, cause I don’t mind jury-duty and I love a waiting room. I’ve no problem with long road-trips and I like an endless queue, any reason to be reading is an instance I’ll pursue. My husband makes appeal that I stem the heady flow, to slow my constant zeal…wait…a bookshop? Gotta go. So that’s my sorry tale, and if tested, I will fight. Thanks for your kind attention, now move, you’re blocking light. AE
Fourth Child Speaks
Resistance Training
I’m known by many names.
The one I was born with sits across my shoulders
at times, heavy and rigid as I move across the court.
Words are lobbed at me with the same force as the ball.
Was I expected to catch them?
Hold them?
Should I lob them back?
I smirk to myself as I sink the ball in the basket.
Their volleys won’t sink in so easily.
Such weak attacks, really.
This court, where I am judged constantly
because of my sex,
my skin, my faith.
I was expert at blocking the slurs.
You think your derision counts?
That it will stall my momentum?
Attacks come at me from all sides.
Your gibes are nothing to the reality I deflect.
Where authority, parity and longevity
are the points to play for.
Muscle memory born of resistance training.
The contrast of my brothers’ world to my own.
A playing field where I stood at the sidelines
waiting to be chosen.
I stopped waiting. I took my spot.
I will earn it every day.
I know how to play this game.
Third Apple Philosophy
There is a quote attributed to author Nancy Willard which reads:
“Armenian folklore has it that three apples fell from Heaven: one for the teller of a story, one for the listener, and the third for the one who ‘took it to heart.’ What a pity Heaven awarded no apple to the one who wrote the story down.”
I note it here because I have been thinking about that third apple granted, the one awarded for taking in the message offered through the narrative. Those persons don’t merely listen and enjoy the story, they draw within its essence, they relate and apply. I can appreciate that connection, I know how seldom it can come about.
I write for various reasons, for work, for enjoyment, for the challenge, for the fun. I have always been challenged by storytelling, prose a constant thorn in the stem of my writing efforts. The carving out of words to capture the wished-for meaning, and always so appreciated when the understanding is there in the reader. So, it is most often in writing poetry that I have been able to express myself. My mind more easily turns to formula in phrasing and the musicality of rhythm and rhyme.
Form following function it is perhaps understandable that I have come to express myself through dance as well, or that dance continues to be a significant part of my life. Teaching has brought its own quirks as I struggle to use words coupled with movement to convey method and meaning to dance. I’ve only an hour a week to impart technique and develop the idea that each song is a story and the dancer becomes the means to bridge not only sound and sight, but the emotional relationship too. I stress connectivity to the music; the dancer must listen first and “take to heart” and become part of the story being told. I find it is not only in honed technique but in natural sympathy that that can be achieved. I admit that in my classes I spend more time developing a more organic foundation rather than strict adherence to precise movements.
Precision needs its solid foundation, time and practice develops skill. Passion needs to be nurtured in anticipation of presentation, audience or no, and requires its own slow growth to fruition. I applaud all those that take the opportunity to open themselves to the heart of the story, and grant themselves an “apple”, a gift to savor and share.
As I Pause for a Second…
I am set to begin my next class of Bellydance Fundamentals tonight and as I do so I reflect on the class over the Summer – there were eight students who made it through and one of them had attended every class, though most there were diligent in their perseverance.
I was glad that so many had stuck with it throughout those two months – and I hope they all continue to make time for themselves along their personal journeys in whatever way it transpires. I know that I won’t see many of them in September, when the next session begins, as the Fall of the year often makes personal time a rare occurrence in the face of school schedules, holidays and shorter daylight hours to make use of.
Those that do return – and I have a feeling there will be one or two – will be a welcome sight as I continue my own path through this oftentimes hazy thing called teaching. There were some major breakthroughs I noted in the class participants. I was glad to see their enthusiasm and fearlessness – especially as I was cautioned many times over not to expect too much at first. I didn’t set expectations, I didn’t want to burden myself or my students with them.
Dance has always been such an organic state for me, more so than an exercise in structure or technique and therein lay a great internal dichotomy of form vs. feeling that I continue to wrestle with. I really believe that I gave as good as I got, and though it may be trite to express it, I learned so much from that experience, from my students.
I began my dance path over fifteen years ago and it was only in preparing for this class that I was obliged to remember my beginnings, all those first-time experiences that fade from memory. Separating the actual from the remembered was an interesting study in what the mind chooses to forget. The frustration, difficulties and fear that can stand in the path of having fun, letting go and enjoying the moment.
Dance is this fleeting thing and we shouldn’t pause too long at the awareness of peer pressure or consider failure or fear. Dance is, and we all need to get out of our own way on our path towards it. I hope I cleared that path somewhat for them and in doing so gave back some small measure to the wonderful women who cleared the path for me.
AE
Observations One Might Make…
I thought I would start with a selection of oddments:
The name Annastine comes from combining my first and middle names. I will leave what those are to your imagination.
Halloween.
I have read the novel To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee every summer since I was nine years old but I won’t mention how many times that is.
It took two years to convince myself to take my first bellydance class and what convinced me were the words “wear loose, comfortable clothing” in the class description (it seemed the antithesis of the pink leotard ballet classes of my youth).
I still have my Girl Scout badges, pins and ID card.
I am sure I am naturally left handed, but school taught me to use my right, leaving me ambidextrous, which explains alot – I am also left-eye dominant.
My husband and I met when I was twelve and he fourteen in the loft of my parents’ home. Ten years later we married in that same loft. This coincidence was not realized till years afterwards. Our pearl anniversary approaches.
I began my Graphic Design experience in the fourth grade. My teacher would have me make/design posters to hang in class, to this day I don’t know why, to this day I am grateful she did.
I learned to type in middle school because I didn’t like my handwriting, cursed with no cursive ability, I print anything handwritten, and type 96 wpm with 95% accuracy.
I love libraries. All throughout grade, middle, high school and college my favorite place to spend my free time was the library “…there is treasure among books…” (D.S. ’77)
I love coffee flavored anything – except coffee. I don’t drink coffee.
DC then Marvel.
I am allergic to most makeup and don’t really enjoy donning costumes for any reason, I also preferred working backstage to onstage in theatre in school. I do, however, love to dance i.e. it’s true one must suffer for art.
Some of my collections include: copper cookie cutters, children’s Halloween books, matchbooks & boxes, parasols & millinery and magnifying glasses – I couldn’t tell you why.
I enjoy handwritten notes and letters, giving and receiving.
I am adamant that guacamole should only contain avocado, salt and lime juice.
I’ve always loved that my hometown celebrates the Fourth of July on the Third of July – it’s a beautiful thing.
I have undertaken being a bellydance instructor after eighteen years of being an American Cabaret troupe dancer – I would like to thank all of those that helped me on my way to this – bellydance continues to surprise me in what it offers if you let it. I am still a performer and a student, continuing my FCBD style and Fusion Bellydance educations as I explore this new chapter.
I was a nail-biter for most of my life, I have only recently (within the last three years) been able to break myself of this habit.
The only practical skill I possess is cooking. The mysteries of baking still elude, but fascinate me, I persevere.
Bronte, Austen, Tan, Christie, Lee, Dickens, Shakespeare, Conan-Doyle, Hammet, Du Maurier, Tolkien, to name some.
I can play over seven different RPG systems – if you know what those are this might be an overshare.
I write narrative poetry – my longest work to date is over two thousand words of one hundred and ten rhyming couplets.
My favorite collective nouns are a lamentation of swans, a murder of ravens, a cauldron of crows, a charm of magpies, a storytelling of rooks and a study of owls, hmmm….guess I have a thing for birds, too.
Thanks for reading. Share back if you like and check back for further posts on teaching, writing, dancing, working, etc.
AE