My Tango Diaries

Of Silk Purses and Sows' Ears. When I started dancing tango, I had constant problems with my balance. Actually, all tango did was make the problem with my balance more obvious to myself and others. I've always had terrible balance. Much of the problem came from the way that I walked. Both of my ankles and both of my knees have been seriously injured at different times in my life, and as a result I have excessive supination of my ankles and feet. Basically, I walk on the outside edges of my feet. (Read: a little bow-legged.) Not only does it look bad (especially when I'm dancing), but it makes me feel unstable to my partner. Almost more frustrating than that was that I could never seem to express the music the way I was feeling it. I couldn't answer my partner with my body. I felt clunky. Uneven. Ungraceful. And before I looked into correcting my lack of solid technique, it was also making it quite painful to dance. My knees and back were paying the price for poor align...

On Saturday, I danced with one of my favorite partners to fantastic live tango music (by the extra-wonderful Glover Gill and Tosca String Quartet ). I was exhausted, sore from practice and class, and not entirely in my right mind apparently. When I sat down afterwards, a friend told me that I'd done "quite a lovely adornment" during a particular piece of the music. Says me: "Pardon? A what?" Says he: "An embellishment. With your foot." Says me: "I did?" nod in the affirmative. Says me: "Oh . . . I think I was just tapping because he was having me wait. I'm always being told to wait. So I might have been tapping to rhythm. (At least I hope I was tapping to the rhythm.)" Says he: "Well, it was very pretty." *blush* "Thank you." I really need to pay attention more.