Wow, Tribal Cafe was a treat last night. I loved two of the acts-- Shadhavar, a duo from Tennessee-- did a very impressively-executed modern conceptual piece. It reminded me of Urban Tribal a bit. Lots of slow, ooey gooey undulations contrasted with sharp isolations and hipwork. Their floorwork was incredibly beautiful. It's the kind of fusion I don't tend to seek out too much but when it's done beautifully, you just can't not watch.
And then Frank Farinaro brought the freakin' house down. Frank is the first male performer at Tribal Cafe, and also, said Mavi, the first performer to get a standing ovation in four years. I watched most of the performance with my jaw hanging open like a yokel. A turkish backwards drop that hit the floor, and then by some gravity-defying mindfuck, he lifted back up like he was levitating. Ridiculous floorwork. High energy. Intensity. And he wasn't just dancing to the music, it's like it was coming through him. Damn. The bar, it has been raised. That was just plain inhuman.
Steve,
marinatempest's husband, told a short story after the crowd had calmed a bit. He said that when he was in college, they'd play a game called "crazy unsupported ladder," where they tried to climb a ladder that was not propped against anything. After a few weeks, they could get to the fourth rung and were pretty proud of themselves. Then a guy they knew asked if he could try. They were all sure, sure. He climbed to the top and then sat there for five minutes.
"After that, it just wasn't fun anymore. The bar was so high that I'd never be able to reach it. This is pretty much that."
I'm not planning on quitting dancing anytime soon-- it's not a competition, after all, but yeah. My standards of excellence just got readjusted.
In other news, Erin of Haunt Soaps has announced she'll no longer be selling after January 1st. Sadface. I need to stock up on Rasa, Pomona, and Milk and Nectar, my favorite scents by her. I love love love her glossing oils and soaps.
And today, I have to do a quick run down to the PO, and after that, it's work time.
Brrr. Chilly.
And then Frank Farinaro brought the freakin' house down. Frank is the first male performer at Tribal Cafe, and also, said Mavi, the first performer to get a standing ovation in four years. I watched most of the performance with my jaw hanging open like a yokel. A turkish backwards drop that hit the floor, and then by some gravity-defying mindfuck, he lifted back up like he was levitating. Ridiculous floorwork. High energy. Intensity. And he wasn't just dancing to the music, it's like it was coming through him. Damn. The bar, it has been raised. That was just plain inhuman.
Steve,
marinatempest's husband, told a short story after the crowd had calmed a bit. He said that when he was in college, they'd play a game called "crazy unsupported ladder," where they tried to climb a ladder that was not propped against anything. After a few weeks, they could get to the fourth rung and were pretty proud of themselves. Then a guy they knew asked if he could try. They were all sure, sure. He climbed to the top and then sat there for five minutes. "After that, it just wasn't fun anymore. The bar was so high that I'd never be able to reach it. This is pretty much that."
I'm not planning on quitting dancing anytime soon-- it's not a competition, after all, but yeah. My standards of excellence just got readjusted.
In other news, Erin of Haunt Soaps has announced she'll no longer be selling after January 1st. Sadface. I need to stock up on Rasa, Pomona, and Milk and Nectar, my favorite scents by her. I love love love her glossing oils and soaps.
And today, I have to do a quick run down to the PO, and after that, it's work time.
Brrr. Chilly.
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