When the Floor Goes Silent.

Shanghai, Nanjing Decade. (Pinterest)

When you look at sepia toned photographs, what are you thinking? For me, I wonder about those worlds gone silent and frozen when once they breathed in the light.

It’s been several months in my hiatus of dancing. I feel haunted by memories of dancing simultaneously burdened by the want to progress. I don’t want to fade like old photographs, a picture of former glory in present ruins. I’m going to lay aside my pride and go to a dance very soon. In many ways, it’s the last chance I’m giving for myself here to make amends and begin again.

I don’t know if this offering of peace will work, for myself or anyone else. Anyone who dances without conflict is either a saint or a liar or far more at peace than I am at the moment. All these years of criticism, competitions, and workshops, all I can see are my missteps.

I hope for change. For the opportunity to get better, to look in a new direction.

Here’s to old photographs getting new life.

Here’s to old attitudes replaced with new opportunities.

Hoping for Happy Feet,



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