Last night, I had a rare night alone. Amber was working an overnight shift at the hospital and I got home around midnight to a quiet, seemingly empty apartment. It’s strange how the absence of someone can have an effect on you. I decided to go practice so, I got my big dance mirrors set up, instead of languishing propped against the couch, got my practice clothes on, hair up and put one of my flower clips in it.
Now before I got dressed I had eaten dinner and decided to make myself a t-shirt choli. (I’ll post instructions and pics when I take…umm pics. 😉 It was really easy, took about 20 minutes from start to finish and when I was done I had my first choli in my hands! Yes, that’s right. I don’t own a choli. I’ve never found much need for one until recently.
After getting dressed, I got sidetracked by tidying the kitchen before dancing. I happened to glance over at myself in one of the mirrors and was astounded. I looked like an ATS dancer. I wear a 25 yard skirt every time I do an ATS class. My hair is usually up. The flower was new, but the difference was the choli. Even if it was a bright orange, former t shirt from a summer stock festival I did two years ago and sort of clashed with my red skirt, I didn’t care. It made me look like an ATS dancer. The short sleeves, the lovely open back, I was so excited!
It was then that I realised something. I don’t consider myself an ATS dancer, even though I practice that style a lot, have more ATS workshops on my schedule for this year than any other kind and am getting increasingly well versed in vocabulary, have performed ATS style in public and plan to get FCBD certified in 2014. I still don’t see myself as an ATS dancer. And I want to. I love it. I love the simple complexity of it, the aesthetic and the ideal. But I don’t have a troupe. I work when the troupe in the town next to mine has class. I attend events with them, but am not a member. And I perform Tribal Fusion more than anything else. In August I will teach Tribal Fusion. And don’t get me wrong. I am a Fusion dancer. I love it.
But last night, I realised I am an ATS dancer, too. When I dance ATS, I dance only ATS. And while I find myself incorporating more ATS into my Fusion, I still call it that. Fusion. Because that’s what it is. And I can be both. I started ATS wanting to learn the basics of what my beloved Fusion came from. But I fell in love with it as well. And that’s fine.
Just like every Spring for a good month I am all about Egyptian and Cabaret. I always love it, it’s just not my primary style. Sort of like my occasional mistress. And ATS, well she’s gonna be my Second wife. But I’m always going to come home to Fusion. Fusion seems to be fine with sharing me with ATS. And ATS always welcomes me with loving arms.
Even though, I’m a strange sort of solitary ATS dancer who is apparently married to dance forms and commits adultery with one style. Man, I’m weird….. 😉 So there’s what goes on when I clean the kitchen in ATS practice gear. Tonight I’m going to spend a little time in the arms of my main lady doing some slinky stuff and maybe some locks. I may still wear my t- shirt choli, though. That thing’s comfy!
I think the two can co exist quite peacefully.
Smiles, shimmies, and thanks for putting up with my weirdness! 🙂 E