Dear Diary,
Listening to the podcast, the host interviews a standup comedian. About performances, this phrase: "That will never happen again." An act, so outrageous, so spontaneous, that when it is over, the performer, and the audience, believes it to be once-in-a-lifetime.
So many of my friends chase after that tangasm, that high, that experience, one time, and they want it again and again.
Of course I want to experience the "best tanda ever," again and again. But I try not to chase after it, or try to recreate it. Because, "that will never happen again."
Showing posts with label diary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diary. Show all posts
desire?
Dear Diary,
Last night, for the first time, well, not the first time, it was the first time that I had a vivid desire to know, to feel, how it would be, to be intimate with…
The movements in our embrace, so effortless, so quiet, so deliberate, so thoughtful…
Not only intimate, as in sex, but rather, intimate, as in exploring the body and the spirit within...
Last night, for the first time, well, not the first time, it was the first time that I had a vivid desire to know, to feel, how it would be, to be intimate with…
The movements in our embrace, so effortless, so quiet, so deliberate, so thoughtful…
Not only intimate, as in sex, but rather, intimate, as in exploring the body and the spirit within...
dear diary,
it has been more than a year since i last wrote to you. just as so many others before me had written before, what "had" to be shared already have, and then, repetitions of the same ideas/feelings/emotions that simply refuse to be described or categorized, certainly not by words.
friendships dissolved and formed, as always. sadly, many of the faded friendships were due to me; i am quite unhappy about this. some friendships teeter. and yet all of us still converge at the same watering holes, often pretending the other is invisible, or exchanging ridiculous pleasantries that, well, just felt moronic.
it has been more than a year since i last wrote to you. just as so many others before me had written before, what "had" to be shared already have, and then, repetitions of the same ideas/feelings/emotions that simply refuse to be described or categorized, certainly not by words.
friendships dissolved and formed, as always. sadly, many of the faded friendships were due to me; i am quite unhappy about this. some friendships teeter. and yet all of us still converge at the same watering holes, often pretending the other is invisible, or exchanging ridiculous pleasantries that, well, just felt moronic.
dear diary,
it is so hard to be honest with myself. the truth is that i am incredibly selfish and vain. often what i say to myself, and to others, sound wonderful... and genuine... but, really, i suppose, these words are simply uttered for me to appear more wonderful... and genuine, than...
and another thing, i stopped dancing with some people, for a variety of reasons, and now milongas are so awkward... no more eye contact, no more greetings, no more smile, from them to me, nor from me to them. and that's hard, because i care (perhaps too much) that people like me.
and completely unrelated, but mentioned only because i was so surprised when it happened (i can be very dense) to me: for a long time, i danced as a friend. and now, with increasing frequency, i find myself dancing as a man. this is crazy intoxicating...
intoxicating... so easy to type, and yet, impossible to express completely and accurately all that happens in my soul.
it is so hard to be honest with myself. the truth is that i am incredibly selfish and vain. often what i say to myself, and to others, sound wonderful... and genuine... but, really, i suppose, these words are simply uttered for me to appear more wonderful... and genuine, than...
and another thing, i stopped dancing with some people, for a variety of reasons, and now milongas are so awkward... no more eye contact, no more greetings, no more smile, from them to me, nor from me to them. and that's hard, because i care (perhaps too much) that people like me.
and completely unrelated, but mentioned only because i was so surprised when it happened (i can be very dense) to me: for a long time, i danced as a friend. and now, with increasing frequency, i find myself dancing as a man. this is crazy intoxicating...
intoxicating... so easy to type, and yet, impossible to express completely and accurately all that happens in my soul.
finally
dear diary,
last night i continued my 2-year-long experiments on turning to my left. i tried and tried and tried, over these months, to figure out what to do with my body, to have smoother more energetic smaller/bigger faster/slower turns. and then, finally finally finally! i discovered (well, not really, i heard the instruction a few years ago, but of course, i didn't understand the "shorthand" at the time) what i could do with my legs my feet... omg it was a fantastic moment.
last night i continued my 2-year-long experiments on turning to my left. i tried and tried and tried, over these months, to figure out what to do with my body, to have smoother more energetic smaller/bigger faster/slower turns. and then, finally finally finally! i discovered (well, not really, i heard the instruction a few years ago, but of course, i didn't understand the "shorthand" at the time) what i could do with my legs my feet... omg it was a fantastic moment.
soul embrace
dear diary,
it was a normal night. i did not have any expectations other than being with friends, being in the embrace, and being in the music. yes i know that's asking a lot! but the truth is that i am blessed to have friends who make this possible, all. the. time...
in the middle of a set, i was no longer in the embrace of G$oia. no it was odd, a rare i-don't-know-how-to-call-it and i was taken aback.
i mentioned this to G$oia, that it was special, to which she asked, "in what way?" i struggled... and then, "everything was so good... and suddenly i felt that i was embracing a human soul." it was crazy i told her.
and then she revealed to me that she had just had a fight and was shaken.
i had embraced her soul.
it was a normal night. i did not have any expectations other than being with friends, being in the embrace, and being in the music. yes i know that's asking a lot! but the truth is that i am blessed to have friends who make this possible, all. the. time...
in the middle of a set, i was no longer in the embrace of G$oia. no it was odd, a rare i-don't-know-how-to-call-it and i was taken aback.
i mentioned this to G$oia, that it was special, to which she asked, "in what way?" i struggled... and then, "everything was so good... and suddenly i felt that i was embracing a human soul." it was crazy i told her.
and then she revealed to me that she had just had a fight and was shaken.
i had embraced her soul.
i am an idiot
dear diary,
a few years ago (three or four i don't remember) magical-follower agreed to dance with me. it was not so much that the dance was unbelievable. it was what she said to me after: "the way you dance, you remind me of a famous person back home in BA." i didn't then, nor do i now, understand the reference. no matter, at that moment, those words fueled me.
we would not dance again until a few days ago. (meanwhile, every year, when she visited, she would ask me, "how come you don't ask me to dance?")
anyway, it was the last night, and she would not return for another year. i waited and waited, while men lined up to ask her to dance. and because she is gracious, she accepted all invitations.
i looked at the clock. not much time left. i resolved to sit and wait for the opening. even if i had to (break my own rule of first listen to the music before an invitation) ask her before the music began. i kept my eyes on her. other men did too. i sighed quietly.
i sat for three tandas. i looked only at her.
finally, a cortina. i peeked around the line of people. i smiled at her. she saw me and gave me a big grin. we approached each other.
when we embraced at the end, she told me, "i will always dance with you."
a few years ago (three or four i don't remember) magical-follower agreed to dance with me. it was not so much that the dance was unbelievable. it was what she said to me after: "the way you dance, you remind me of a famous person back home in BA." i didn't then, nor do i now, understand the reference. no matter, at that moment, those words fueled me.
we would not dance again until a few days ago. (meanwhile, every year, when she visited, she would ask me, "how come you don't ask me to dance?")
anyway, it was the last night, and she would not return for another year. i waited and waited, while men lined up to ask her to dance. and because she is gracious, she accepted all invitations.
i looked at the clock. not much time left. i resolved to sit and wait for the opening. even if i had to (break my own rule of first listen to the music before an invitation) ask her before the music began. i kept my eyes on her. other men did too. i sighed quietly.
i sat for three tandas. i looked only at her.
finally, a cortina. i peeked around the line of people. i smiled at her. she saw me and gave me a big grin. we approached each other.
when we embraced at the end, she told me, "i will always dance with you."
explanation
dear diary,
as we say good night, inevitably a favorite partner would say to me that we had not danced. i have been troubled. how come i have become so reluctant to dance with women who have shared incredible moments with me?
lomyl hears my confusion, and tells me some anecdotes. and then it comes to me: i am emotionally transparent when i dance. i am emotionally transparent in general. and the dance just magnifies whatever it is that i feel. Bored, happy, tense, angry, overwhelmed...
lomyl tells me that i can't be afraid (knowing that whatever it is that i experience will be felt by my partners, GOOD and BAD), otherwise i will stop growing.
i have been afraid to share the BAD!
aha!
as we say good night, inevitably a favorite partner would say to me that we had not danced. i have been troubled. how come i have become so reluctant to dance with women who have shared incredible moments with me?
lomyl hears my confusion, and tells me some anecdotes. and then it comes to me: i am emotionally transparent when i dance. i am emotionally transparent in general. and the dance just magnifies whatever it is that i feel. Bored, happy, tense, angry, overwhelmed...
lomyl tells me that i can't be afraid (knowing that whatever it is that i experience will be felt by my partners, GOOD and BAD), otherwise i will stop growing.
i have been afraid to share the BAD!
aha!
paradox
dear diary,
as i have become more comfortable, i have become more confident, to invite.
but i have become more reluctant, more shy, to invite.
strange...
as i have become more comfortable, i have become more confident, to invite.
but i have become more reluctant, more shy, to invite.
strange...
easy to forget
Dear Diary,
Some of the scars that cover my body are fading away. I have this uncomfortably strange thought that I need them, to remind me of this time in my life, to not take anything for granted, to never take anything for granted, to live one moment at a time. I have already forgotten the early days, when my skin was so covered with blisters, when I was disgusting, when I was bleeding inside, when I could barely move.
Remember well, self. Remember well.
Some of the scars that cover my body are fading away. I have this uncomfortably strange thought that I need them, to remind me of this time in my life, to not take anything for granted, to never take anything for granted, to live one moment at a time. I have already forgotten the early days, when my skin was so covered with blisters, when I was disgusting, when I was bleeding inside, when I could barely move.
Remember well, self. Remember well.
stalled
dear diary,
it has been 2 months and 2 weeks. it has been that long since i stepped on the dance floor. i am surprised that i don't miss it. perhaps it is because i am preoccupied with other thoughts, of whether i will be sick again, of whether my body will be returned to me, intact. whatever it is, tango has become simply memories.
it has been 2 months and 2 weeks. it has been that long since i stepped on the dance floor. i am surprised that i don't miss it. perhaps it is because i am preoccupied with other thoughts, of whether i will be sick again, of whether my body will be returned to me, intact. whatever it is, tango has become simply memories.
now that's feedback
dear diary,
i have not danced with her before. i watched for a bit, and then, when she became available, i asked her to dance. after the first song, the usual "uncomfortable-because-i-don't-know-what-to-say" chitchat. after the second song, i detected in her a twinge of lingering. then as the third song of the set ends, she held our embrace, dropping any pretenses.
talk about a boost to my confidence.
awesome.
i have not danced with her before. i watched for a bit, and then, when she became available, i asked her to dance. after the first song, the usual "uncomfortable-because-i-don't-know-what-to-say" chitchat. after the second song, i detected in her a twinge of lingering. then as the third song of the set ends, she held our embrace, dropping any pretenses.
talk about a boost to my confidence.
awesome.
tired
dear diary,
i am tired. i am afraid of everything. it is exhausting, this fear thing. on my way to the milonga, i was jittery. i could not find a calm place for my mind.
tango doesn't fix everything...
i am tired. i am afraid of everything. it is exhausting, this fear thing. on my way to the milonga, i was jittery. i could not find a calm place for my mind.
tango doesn't fix everything...
sigh as punishment
dear diary,
i can't tell you how many times my tanguera friends tell me about being punished for their "mistakes." every time, i am incredulous. of course, they are tactful, and don't identify these wonderfully considerate assholes. finally, i ask, "but i can't see the punishment from the outside. so it must be subtle right?"
and then i remember that many tell me of the SIGH. the asshole (woops did i write that out loud again?) sighs when his partner "makes a mistake."
WTF!
-
i wonder... what does a woman say/do, to punish back? ok ok ok that's not helpful. but, seriously, how to convert the asshole into a gentle and kind soul? it's possible, right? right? right?
i can't tell you how many times my tanguera friends tell me about being punished for their "mistakes." every time, i am incredulous. of course, they are tactful, and don't identify these wonderfully considerate assholes. finally, i ask, "but i can't see the punishment from the outside. so it must be subtle right?"
and then i remember that many tell me of the SIGH. the asshole (woops did i write that out loud again?) sighs when his partner "makes a mistake."
WTF!
-
i wonder... what does a woman say/do, to punish back? ok ok ok that's not helpful. but, seriously, how to convert the asshole into a gentle and kind soul? it's possible, right? right? right?
shudder
dear diary,
i dj'ed. i was happy with the music. i was happy with people happy with the music. a number of my favorite partners in the room. i waited, hoping that K!wobo would be available, to ask her for the De Caro set that would end with Aníbal Troilo. By the third song of the tanda, I knew the notes that would be forthcoming. I was afraid.
last night, i was emotionally vulnerable. i knew it. raw. events in my life. at first, relief. and then, more worries.
i guess that i had planned the music, for relief. i don't know.
and then the song began... i told myself to trust her. i allowed the emotion to rise. my body shuddered. i could not. i wanted to. but i could not. i simply held on to her, accepted that she knew i had surrendered.
i could barely look into her eyes. i did not want to reveal my quivering face, as we parted.
i dj'ed. i was happy with the music. i was happy with people happy with the music. a number of my favorite partners in the room. i waited, hoping that K!wobo would be available, to ask her for the De Caro set that would end with Aníbal Troilo. By the third song of the tanda, I knew the notes that would be forthcoming. I was afraid.
last night, i was emotionally vulnerable. i knew it. raw. events in my life. at first, relief. and then, more worries.
i guess that i had planned the music, for relief. i don't know.
and then the song began... i told myself to trust her. i allowed the emotion to rise. my body shuddered. i could not. i wanted to. but i could not. i simply held on to her, accepted that she knew i had surrendered.
i could barely look into her eyes. i did not want to reveal my quivering face, as we parted.
snoot
dear diary,
they sit for hours. arrive with hope and smiles. dance perhaps once. their faces darken. then they leave.
are the people who dance, and who do not invite the "sitters," unfriendly, or worse, snooty????
i am one of them. i don't invite. i used to...
i guess you will judge me badly. but you see, i have danced with them in the past. they were not comfortable, not enjoyable, not fun.
lomyl tells me that it's a mistake to want everyone to like me...
they sit for hours. arrive with hope and smiles. dance perhaps once. their faces darken. then they leave.
are the people who dance, and who do not invite the "sitters," unfriendly, or worse, snooty????
i am one of them. i don't invite. i used to...
i guess you will judge me badly. but you see, i have danced with them in the past. they were not comfortable, not enjoyable, not fun.
lomyl tells me that it's a mistake to want everyone to like me...
sidelined
dear diary,
almost two months ago, i started to study Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ). At first, I was quite concerned that my sparring partners would injure me. My elbow having been snapped a long time ago, it would be extremely sensitive to BJJ's trademark dislocation techniques.
i was also quite out-of-shape. frankly, i did not think that i would last long before becoming sidelined with an injury, and before i could regain some physical condition. at my first workout, i could only spar for 5 minutes before total exhaustion. but, last week, i finally began to trust. and, not only did i last for the entire 90 minute workout, i sparred for 15 minutes. of course, i almost fainted after that. but, it was fantastic fantastic.
on a roll, until i became quite weak, debilitated, on friday. i am getting better, but i can only do things (anything: walk, talk, eat) for a few minutes at a time, and then i would have to rest. i haven't been to work, because i have no energy at all. i read on the internet that it may be six weeks before i recover fully. great. just what my fragile mind that is always full of anxieties and panics needs...
shit.
almost two months ago, i started to study Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ). At first, I was quite concerned that my sparring partners would injure me. My elbow having been snapped a long time ago, it would be extremely sensitive to BJJ's trademark dislocation techniques.
i was also quite out-of-shape. frankly, i did not think that i would last long before becoming sidelined with an injury, and before i could regain some physical condition. at my first workout, i could only spar for 5 minutes before total exhaustion. but, last week, i finally began to trust. and, not only did i last for the entire 90 minute workout, i sparred for 15 minutes. of course, i almost fainted after that. but, it was fantastic fantastic.
on a roll, until i became quite weak, debilitated, on friday. i am getting better, but i can only do things (anything: walk, talk, eat) for a few minutes at a time, and then i would have to rest. i haven't been to work, because i have no energy at all. i read on the internet that it may be six weeks before i recover fully. great. just what my fragile mind that is always full of anxieties and panics needs...
shit.
the ritual
dear diary,
recent email exchanges with a friend led me to realize (again!) that i think way too much over simple things. but hey celebrate me for being me right?
anyway i can't help myself...
this eye-contact thing, this cabeceo thing, it is tricky. yes i know it is the safe way for everyone. but, to exercise the ritual demands a tough skin. some tangueras don't look, because they don't want to risk seeing (gasp) the intended tanguero avert his eyes, to avoid the "invitation to invite." in return for the non-cabeceo, a tanguero who makes the effort to invite the tanguera surely desires her.
well ok. i accept this. i am very happy to risk rejection (used to it by now most of the time heh heh), so that a tanguera can non-cabeceo.
i, as a man, have it easy right? well...
i don't know that it is good, but when i see a highly desirable tanguero (HDT) appear at a milonga, i defer my invitations. the more i think about it, the more awkward i feel about my inactions. i just haven't figured it out yet. anyway, why do i do it? because i want to know that when i invite a tanguera, she doesn't accept because HDT is unavailable, and she is just "killing time" dancing with me. I also don't want to be rejected because she is waiting for HDT.
i want tanguera to WANT to dance with me for that set.
recent email exchanges with a friend led me to realize (again!) that i think way too much over simple things. but hey celebrate me for being me right?
anyway i can't help myself...
this eye-contact thing, this cabeceo thing, it is tricky. yes i know it is the safe way for everyone. but, to exercise the ritual demands a tough skin. some tangueras don't look, because they don't want to risk seeing (gasp) the intended tanguero avert his eyes, to avoid the "invitation to invite." in return for the non-cabeceo, a tanguero who makes the effort to invite the tanguera surely desires her.
well ok. i accept this. i am very happy to risk rejection (used to it by now most of the time heh heh), so that a tanguera can non-cabeceo.
i, as a man, have it easy right? well...
i don't know that it is good, but when i see a highly desirable tanguero (HDT) appear at a milonga, i defer my invitations. the more i think about it, the more awkward i feel about my inactions. i just haven't figured it out yet. anyway, why do i do it? because i want to know that when i invite a tanguera, she doesn't accept because HDT is unavailable, and she is just "killing time" dancing with me. I also don't want to be rejected because she is waiting for HDT.
i want tanguera to WANT to dance with me for that set.
change is hard
dear diary,
i ask a friend about her favorite partners. she turns around and asks me the same. i tell her that as i become better, my experiences with my partners become more nuanced, more complex, more rich. i am not sure that this is what she expected (or wanted to hear)...
it's true. time has taught me to savor the uniqueness of these amazing women. when i think back to the first moments, the beginnings of these connections, i realize how much the universe has smiled upon me...
i remember this:
pre-friend: "i love to watch people."
me: "so do I!!"
pre-friend: "and you write about it."
me (without skipping a beat): "I DO!"
what a bizarre conversation! (really, how is it different from any other first encounters?) but that's just it: there have been so many many many defining moments in my short tango life.
once i thought that the tango would be so much simpler (i suppose for my psyche) if we were anonymous. now i know this: my friendships have enriched (a great surprise to me) these twelve minute embraces. i don't really know these people with whom i share these delightful connections. i don't really know what they do. i don't really know their true-selves. i just know that they like me, and i like them. all this liking is hard for me, because, when they leave, as many of them eventually do (for all the legitimate reasons in the world), the void that takes over is excruciating.
a number of friends are surprised that lomyl and i don't travel (to the festivals). but why should we??? i am a home-body. i like to grow old with the same people...
i hate it when friends leave. hate it hate it hate it.
i ask a friend about her favorite partners. she turns around and asks me the same. i tell her that as i become better, my experiences with my partners become more nuanced, more complex, more rich. i am not sure that this is what she expected (or wanted to hear)...
it's true. time has taught me to savor the uniqueness of these amazing women. when i think back to the first moments, the beginnings of these connections, i realize how much the universe has smiled upon me...
i remember this:
pre-friend: "i love to watch people."
me: "so do I!!"
pre-friend: "and you write about it."
me (without skipping a beat): "I DO!"
what a bizarre conversation! (really, how is it different from any other first encounters?) but that's just it: there have been so many many many defining moments in my short tango life.
once i thought that the tango would be so much simpler (i suppose for my psyche) if we were anonymous. now i know this: my friendships have enriched (a great surprise to me) these twelve minute embraces. i don't really know these people with whom i share these delightful connections. i don't really know what they do. i don't really know their true-selves. i just know that they like me, and i like them. all this liking is hard for me, because, when they leave, as many of them eventually do (for all the legitimate reasons in the world), the void that takes over is excruciating.
a number of friends are surprised that lomyl and i don't travel (to the festivals). but why should we??? i am a home-body. i like to grow old with the same people...
i hate it when friends leave. hate it hate it hate it.
circle in a circle
dear diary,
finally the words begin to make sense to me. they had been symbols, verbal shortcuts, that represented years of knowledge. my teacher shows me a more nuanced way to think of the movements. we try it. i cry out,"wow, this is ten times more fun than before." "yes," she said.
finally the words begin to make sense to me. they had been symbols, verbal shortcuts, that represented years of knowledge. my teacher shows me a more nuanced way to think of the movements. we try it. i cry out,"wow, this is ten times more fun than before." "yes," she said.
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