Today finds me dancing around the living room. Just a little. A few twirls. A slide across the floor. A kick here and there.
And it’s all because of the frisky little orange button you see to your right.
You know, the one that says, “Subscribe in a reader.” Yes. I finally got my RSS and email subscriptions active. Because try as I might, I couldn’t figure it out on my own.
So I tracked down Jeb over at websiteorblog, and I’m sure glad I did. He got me hooked up right away. And did it in such a gracious, charming, helpful manner that I’ll be using his services again down the road. His rates are eminently reasonable, so go, check out his site if you’re in need of technical tutoring.
Ah, it’s so nice to be part of the club now. When I started poking around other people’s blogs, only to discover that everyone had this subscription thing going, I began to feel a bit like the only kid in class who hasn’t figured out the math problem. But I’m very thankful to those of you who actually asked me about it; without your interest and nudge, who knows how long it would have taken me to get going on it?
So here it is. Go nuts. Subscribe away! (I had to try it out myself and I believe I am my own first subscriber).
All good reasons for my exuberant little dance around the living room, don’t you think? But, truth be told, I’m skipping the light fantastic not just because of my subscription feeds.
No, I’m also in a dancing mood because I recently watched Every Little Step.
Not only does the movie chronicle months of grueling auditions for the recent Broadway revival of A Chorus Line, but it also explores the incredible birthing of the original production.
When I think about how the show came to be, I get goose bumps (the good kind). A group of dancers gather in the wee small hours to tell their stories. A bottle of cheap wine provides the lubrication. Their words flow. And then art is made from those stories.
Stories. If you’ve read my about page, you know that I’ve always loved stories.
They enchant me, and I have an ongoing urge to collect and retell them. To use them to entertain and inspire. Because human beings are meaning makers, and one of the primary ways we do that is by telling and hearing stories.
And what better way to listen to a story than through the work of an artist?
I’m reminded of a quote from The Courage to Create, by Rollo May:
When we appreciate a creative work, we are also performing a creative act. When we engage a painting we are experiencing some new moment of sensibility. Some new vision is triggered in us by our contact with the painting; something unique is born within us. This is why appreciation of the music or painting or other works of the creative person is also a creative act on our part.
When I think about my experience of A Chorus Line, it does indeed feel like a creative act. My cousin and I sat mesmerized in a theatre in San Francisco during the original production’s first tour. When the character of Diana sang “Kiss Today Goodbye,” we held hands and wept, because it was so moving.
Thirty years later, I found myself again in a San Francisco theatre (maybe even the same one), this time with my husband by my side. Watching the revival before it left for Broadway. And once more, living, laughing, crying, striving, and growing through the stories of these same characters.
I remember countless other times when I engaged with works of art and was taken to that place of vision that Rollo May talks about in the quote above.
Paintings. Sculptures. Photographs. Concerts. Symphonies. Plays. Books. Solo performances. Duets. The list goes on.
And I am better for it. All of it.
What about you? What’s your most memorable experience of engaging with a work of art? Let’s share those stories here and enrich each other’s lives by telling them.
WHY NOT START NOW?