Who ever noticed a weird caterpillar coming in through the door of the ballroom classroom, with wide pants, gowns, glasses, ponytail, keeping quiet for days and coming out transformed some time later?
One of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen in nature is the metamorphosis of a butterfly. Yes, a silliness for those who lost the rich gift of dazzling themselves with the simple. From an almost invisible egg comes a clumsy, unwanted caterpillar, with movements seeming uncoordinated, to many, ugly, almost asexual. At one point, to stop feeding, it shrinks, and from its outer coating comes out a cocoon, a pupa, often even more queer than the caterpillar of minutes before. Thus she remains, quietly for days, operating an unbelievable transformation that until today keeps its mysteries.
Some time later, a cone breaks and comes out from within, with a lot of effort, a strange body, with legs wobbling, wrinkled, crumpled wings, that seem an aberration, a fault making apparently painful movements. No one can help in this process, at the cost of causing a permanent deformity or the end. It is a time to win alone, like so many others in life. In a few minutes, exuberant wings begin a precise unfolding, revealing a being at the height of its existence, secure, with total control of itself, seeming to know its own beauty. A being ready for lubricity, to give continuity to the spiral cycle of the sequence of generations. A particularly incredible being, skilled at flying, one of the most desired abilities by man, which has already aroused from the follies of Icarus to the realization of Dumont and modern individual rockets.
To the good observer of life on the planet, this metamorphosis is one of the most exciting scenes, sometimes stamped in a naive garden. Again, a parallel of nature with ballroom dancing seems obvious. The caterpillar, in the classroom, begins by discovering itself in every timid movement that gradually amplifies itself by taking shape. The voice is heard gaining height and texture. It creates the courage to face the mirror, to discover its own undulations under the hiding place protected of the wide cloths, that every day, they peel. It begins to become clear to the sensual and free curves that so attracted Niemeyer. In the look of Álvares de Azevedo, curves that engrave on the clothing the "eloquent contour". Curves even more sinuous and lively dynamic when in dance. The space is born to enjoy the combination with other bodies.
The woman who walks awkwardly in the ballroom has all the exuberance of a female in full force, hidden somewhere, guarded as a precious jewel that is herself and no one else, who shares but does not divide . Ballroom dancing is the key that opens the chest of charms and guts, it's the key to freedom to be who you are.
And at some moment, which we hardly know what it is, the voluptuousness of the silky hair, loose in the breeze, the bright eyes visible from afar, the whiter teeth, the smoother skin, the beautiful wings painted in skirts, overflowing eroticism. It is ready to take flight, safe, pouring into the posture, the exploratory movements of curves and expressions, the mix of confidence with the nudity of ecstasy. This metamorphosis is not restricted to the classroom or the hall. It floods all the ins and outs of this life, the house, the wardrobe, the shower, the meals, the health care. Without aesthetic treatment, there is reduction of the frown and the unbridled smile that frames any speech, easy, provocative, sweet or malicious. It transforms relationships with other people and professional productivity. Scares the powder of the makeup case, awakens the passion for the high heels, the colors, justezas and sparkles, for the bottles of perfumes. Create thirst for new discoveries. It returns the sex, to be discovered as if it wants. And there is always more to unravel in the mysteries enclosed there.
This is one of the most profound and enigmatic powers that ballroom dancing has, releasing females who live tied up in certain women. As in the biological metamorphosis of the butterfly, the hideous caterpillar, commonly filled with spicules that prevent approach without injury, contains information dormant about the truth stored in the sealed music box.
Ballroom dancing makes every woman beautiful, regardless of age, weight, symmetry, traits outside or within media patterns, simply because it teaches to maximize the native fairy and witch gifts. Freud's license, his envy makes no sense to the woman who unravels for herself. To the good observer of the human being, this metamorphosis is one of the most moving scenes that can be seen, sometimes stamped in a naive mirror.
Dance is a fine art of the people.
and a category that I would like to practice if I could love your blog
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