Inspiration Prompt: “For A Dancer”

Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Now forget the song, and turn that line into the title or inspiration for your post.

The line from the song is from Jackson Browne’s “For A Dancer”:

Just do the steps that you’ve been shown
By everyone you’ve ever known
Until the dance becomes your very own
No matter how close to yours
Another’s steps have grown
In the end there is one dance you’ll do alone

For me this song will always bring thoughts of my grandmother. When I first started taking bellydance lessons and, later, dancing in public, my mother was horrified. It seemed so graceless and tawdry to her… but grandma sat straight up in her big La-Z-boy reclining throne, like a bright-eyed bird, and snapped at mom: “I always wanted to be a dancer! I think it’s great. Let Chris do it if she wants.” Everyone just looked at her with their mouths open, and that was the end of that.

So as Grandma (whom we called Moo) became more and more chairbound, I would go and get into full costume and dance for her at her house, and usually bring some sparkly tiara or shawl for her to wear too. She would clap and “dance” in her chair with me, and it was… words fail me. It was just wonderful.

So when I first heard “For A Dancer”, on a local independent radio station, it immediately made me think of Moo – this was before she passed – and that hit me so hard that I had to pull my car off the road at 11:00pm and cry, because I loved her colorful, tenacious spirit so much, and she was failing.

ImageI learned many things from my grandmother. She taught me how to be fabulous. When I was a little kid,  maybe 6 or 7, she let me wear lipstick (probably just a snidge) and drink highballs (I didn’t learn until much later that I was getting “drunk” off of grape juice and 7-up)… some of my earliest memories are of getting ready to go into stores with Moo when I was very young. She’d put on her own lipstick, then dot some on me and say: “You never know when you’re going to meet HIM.” Then we’d sashay into the store, ready to slay the men of the world with our beauty. Left hand on hip, right hand swinging as we walked. Man, do I miss her.

Here’s to Moo… I don’t have any 7-Up, but I’ve got some grape juice and club soda and I think we can call that a highball tonight in her honor. I’d better go put on some lipstick… you never know when you’re going to meet HIM. :}

Whew. It’s hot in here. Is it hot in here?

Image

 

This makes me happy in oh, so very many ways. His face, startling in its focus and intensity. His beautiful, strong, slightly scarred  hands. 

And let us not forget, oh no, no, no, those thighs. Those. Thighs. 

Yes, please. 

 

(thanks to guylty for tumblring this @ http://meandrichard.tumblr.com/post/51313568434/guylty-oh-god-oh-god-oh-god-this-is)

Cherries and almonds

I am sitting (once again) in my comfortable overstuffed chair, blankets wrapped around my cold feet, and a small bowl of cherries and almonds by my side. I have the sliding door cracked open, despite a chill breeze, and am listening to my neighbors: a small dog is barking, a woman’s high-pitched laughter is farther away, and nearby – oh, nearby, an earnest pair of teenage lovers are making up a quarrel they had last night. I am listening and eating the cherries and almonds as I eavesdrop… first a cherry, tart and delicious, then spit out the pit; then the mellow crunch of an almond.

He wants her back. She is determined not to return. He cheated and is now remorseful. She cannot forgive. He has discarded the other girl! She expresses false regret that now he will be alone, as she is determined. He becomes angry… she triumphant. She overplays her hand – now he is disdainful! She apologizes, he sneers. She begs. He rejects. She weeps! He scorns. She is destroyed as he walks away.

Good lord. I’m glad I’m not a teenager. How exhausting, and all before dinner. Geez. 

Yes, it’s another Armitage Appreciation Post

Yes, it's another Armitage Appreciation Post

Whew. I know, he’s a wonderful person and a brilliant mind and a great actor and a gracious gentleman and gentle man (even sexier than naked chest!), but when I see him shirtless, my brain defaults to some wordless primal noise and my chakras light up like a pinball machine tilting. DingdingdingdingTILT…

…ooof.

(part of a photoset by Smaug The Terrible, click through on photo for full photoset. IS DELICIOUS)