Saturday night in San Fran: From Ocean of Water to Ocean of Women

I danced with a woman named Katrina from New Orleans.  Her eyes were wide and rolling and a smile so big I kept waiting for her tongue to role out like Kali.  She taught me to use the wall to find stability and cool stillness that turned into poses and then spine and hips pushing off the wall into undulations.  We united in our quirky maturity riffing off the beats into new rhythms that only the deaf could hear.

I wrote the above in the wee hours this morning and just now found on my friends blog by coincidence a further description of my experience last night.  (To see the full blog go  HERE)

"Last night out dancing in a rangy bar I watched M and saw how an open heart and lack of judgement can change a room and make things happen, small roads unfurl like ribbons from the heart, touch people and the inanimate, charge it up, over at another table a woman I know was surrounded by her own personal entourage who had the aura of gnats lit only by the woman's blue shirt, you could hardly see them, they did not dance, the woman holding court, she'd returned from Haiti very serious and tightly wound in a way I recognize all too well, an ego clench, it's hard to be in a small room when you've been in a big world and that's an unfortunate thing. M dancing. M dancing."

my response:  "Sometimes i wish i could keep someone like you in my pocket and be able to pull you out, push a button and you could give words into all that is felt.
It is a rear night to have one of my roads out cross another and collide to blossom new roads i didn't even no existed. Last night was one such night. I am reminded of a song someone sang to me this week, "the world explodes around me with love".
Small rooms need the big rooms to enter them."