The Dancer

People rarely inspire me.

I know this seems a strange statement, especially coming from me, but in reality, it’s not all that surprising. I usually get inspired by the feelings people can evoke within me – the absolute clarity of a moment of love, the spiking anger of a fight, the kickstart of your libido when a lover enters the room, the dull throb of sadness when he leaves, acute empathy for someone in difficulty – these are the fruits on which my muse feeds endlessly.

I can count on my fingers the actual personalities that have inspired me. These jewels are so rare that when I come across them, I wish I could grab onto them and just absorb whatever it is about them that sweeps me off my feet. I realize that I am making it sound like falling in love – and in a way it is. Not in any sexual sense, but in terms of the romance of it all; that illogical logic: the knowledge that you are in the presence of someone who you know you were meant to meet, for whatever reason.

There doesn’t even have to be a reason, other than simply so that they could inspire you.

*** Continue reading The Dancer

Racing the weather, to music.

The office is suddenly hotter and stuffier and I don’t have to look out the window to know that I’ll have to race the rain home today.

Hurriedly throwing things into my bag, I whip out my trusty iPod and within minutes, I’m on my way.

Humidity follows me out the door, past the security guards and onto my customary route back home. I untangle the earphone wires twisted messily around my fingers and pause while I turn the dial, looking for the perfect tune.

Slightly superstitious, I try to please the Gods and stave off the rain with something fabulous and the choice falls on Led Zeppelin. I press play, the moody strains of Babe I’m Gonna Leave You fill my ears and I start walking again, a little faster now.

The song fits the weather perfectly. Stormy clouds seemed to have tinged the whole world different shades of grey and the very air around me is thick, pregnant with the promise of rain. Not just a timid shower, but a full on downpour.

God this weather. Tropical, capricious, infuriating. I can’t believe I actually spend so much time writing about the weather on my blog. But it’s really much more interesting that one gives it credit for. In this country anyway.

I said baby, you know I’m gonna leave you.
I’ll leave you when the summertime,
Leave you when the summertime comes arollin… Continue reading Racing the weather, to music.