Был котенок - станет рысь
First attempt.
Not that the laurels of Nabokov make me lose sleep: don't I desperately deny being a writer, jerking hands up in a protective gesture and crying it out loud every time, as if trying to convince myself?
Ah, enough about it...
Tony is coming today. An Irishman, one of those last century's old folks with young eyes splashing with laughter. He teaches riverdance. He approached me that night in Tir nan Og, when Dave and I were sipping cider floating in a joyful conversation, one of those, which seems nice and interesting while it lasts, but you can hardly remember a world after that. It was St. Patrick's day and they were trying to get people out ob the floor for the simplest moves.
He approached me afterwards one more time and asked if I wanted to join the performance group. I jumped at the opportunity.
It's surprising, really. Dance is one of the ways of self-expression for me. I lose myself in the music, I soar, I close my eyes and let the intuition and the body take over. It's magic. It's the primeval old female magic that we often so desperately lack.
So why the hell didn't I join any of the clubs here? Absurd. Well, actually, there is a logical exlplanation, but I just don't like it. And that - is not surprising at all.
Leaving now. Should have left 5 minutes ago, and now hurry to brush the waves of hair away into some shape. It's a windy little town...
Not that the laurels of Nabokov make me lose sleep: don't I desperately deny being a writer, jerking hands up in a protective gesture and crying it out loud every time, as if trying to convince myself?
Ah, enough about it...
Tony is coming today. An Irishman, one of those last century's old folks with young eyes splashing with laughter. He teaches riverdance. He approached me that night in Tir nan Og, when Dave and I were sipping cider floating in a joyful conversation, one of those, which seems nice and interesting while it lasts, but you can hardly remember a world after that. It was St. Patrick's day and they were trying to get people out ob the floor for the simplest moves.
He approached me afterwards one more time and asked if I wanted to join the performance group. I jumped at the opportunity.
It's surprising, really. Dance is one of the ways of self-expression for me. I lose myself in the music, I soar, I close my eyes and let the intuition and the body take over. It's magic. It's the primeval old female magic that we often so desperately lack.
So why the hell didn't I join any of the clubs here? Absurd. Well, actually, there is a logical exlplanation, but I just don't like it. And that - is not surprising at all.
Leaving now. Should have left 5 minutes ago, and now hurry to brush the waves of hair away into some shape. It's a windy little town...
