“There are moments on the brink, when you can give yourself to a lover, or not; give in to self-doubt, uncertainty, and admonishment, or not; dive into a different culture, or not; set sail for the unknown, or not; walk out onto a stage, or not…Resist then, and…there is only what might have been.”
– Diane Ackerman
By the Light of the Spanish Full Moon – 2011
On the night of the super full moon outside a small cafe in the port of Estepona, Spain, the dancing man glided towards me. He shook his long, black curly hair behind him, stopped, took the stance of a matador, his pelvis thrust forward with one arm held out to the side as the other reached for me to join him. I hesitated a moment. Then I put down my backpack and let myself be pulled into his web.
The young Spanish man put his arm around my waist as he turned me towards him. His brown eyes locked into mine. I looked down at his tight black pants and heeled boots. He stomped his foot and forced my eyes back to his. My skin tingled. My heart beat fast. The world around me disappeared. Only this man and the music existed.
I emptied my mind of the fact that I had no idea what I was doing and let the spirit of the dark tones of the music enter my body. I didn’t care how I looked. In my mind my black sneakers were replaced by black strapped shoes with two inch heels. My jeans turned into a tightly fitted long sleeve red polka dot dress that flared out in a wave of ruffles below my hips to my ankles. My pony tail was transformed into a french twist with a yellow silk rose tucked behind my left ear. My lips were blood red and red hoop earrings dripped from my ears.
With my head held high, I raised my arms and splayed my fingers, the dancer’s eyes still locked into mine. My arms moved as his did, swirling in the air, in wide fluid circles. I flipped and swirled the imaginary fabric of my dress. I felt his hands on my waist guiding my movements and I surrendered to his touch. There were no steps to follow, only a way of life to move into.
I wished the music would never stop, that I could move this way forever, with someone’s gentle touch on my waist moving me forward in my life.
