It’s been over two months, so I have a lot to tell y’all.
First, I finally have a job. My first week began on November 9th. I work under the Corporate Communications Director for a LNG (liquefied natural gas) firm. My official title is intern, and I thank God it’s a paid position this time. I’m very grateful toward my father for helping me get this job. I’m just cutting my teeth at this point, so there’s nothing else to say.
The bigger question remains (for those that are still around). Where to and why did I disappear? Per the information above, my job is part of that. I aim to tell y’all more as I ease back into regular writing. The more honest answer is a big, black hole of artistic depression. The lack of writing is an effect.
I’m taking Tommy’s departure harder than I ever expected. I was blessed when my last two teachers, including him, quickly filled in the gap when the previous one left. That’s not the case this time. I am both Olga and Eddie’s student because I shift between the two. However, the feeling of emotional fulfillment by honing my physical body and fellowship with my fellow dancers has been drier than a dusty well.
Everything was awesome in early to mid July. I was memorizing school figures and variations for each dance in eventual preparation for testing out of Bronze IV. The icing on this delicious, terpsichorean cake was that we were currently practicing Viennese Waltz. Ah, a plebian at heart I may be, but is not the waltz the epitome of serenity? Not for your body, of course. The more ethereal it appears to be, the more effort was put into not looking or acting like you’re in noticeable pain. (Admit it. Dancing is like that more than you’d care to acknowledge.) Still, it was the worthwhile exertion of a job well done. In addition, we were set to perform in our first Arthur Murray show as my graduation present. It was supposed to be a Samba to Bow Wow Wow’s well-known cover of “I Want Candy.” Then, he vanished.
As it turns out, the family Christmas vacation, which was planned six months in advance, would’ve interfered. Sure, it would’ve been disappointing. But, I’d have gotten my $100 deposit back and waited ’till next time. Yeah… I can’t perform because my teacher is gone. It’s a double whammy of pain! It shows how much impact a person’s presence has. Since then, I’ve been avoiding the studio. Me. Avoiding ballroom. I never thought that would happen. So, I took refuge in social dance.
Nothing releases the tension like a good bachata, right? All those negative emotions evaporate with the Salsa and sweat. *Sigh* My monthly social’s longtime venue closed, so now they’re having it at a significantly smaller studio until January. I went to it for this one, but no one I knew was there. I’ve gotten much better at asking men to dance, men I know. Residual social anxiety inhibits me from asking a complete stranger. Thanksgiving, the family’s vacation, and the Christmas holiday are coming up. I won’t be social dancing for a while, anyway.
That’s all. My dancing is in a valley low. My job will provide sufficient distraction from my artistic depression. Until it picks back up, my goal is to write once a week again while balancing it with my job. I’ll still be taking private lessons once a week and going to group classes when I feel emotionally up to it.
(Giving pep talk to self) Art is worth it because you share and participate in divine beauty. It betters yourself and your relationship with others. Art is one of few things that makes life alive.