I am a bit of a performer. Always have been. My mom enrolled me in dance at age 4. Recitals were yearly. I would dance my way through class, month after month - but when the curtain came up - that's when I really came alive.
There is a marked difference in the way I feel when the spotlight is on me. I shine. I shine from the inside. My moves may not differ entirely, but the emotion behind them does. I feel completely and utterly alive.
Now, I did not go into a performing profession. I sit at a desk all day. The desk cannot contain me, however. My co-workers would attest to my [work-upsetting] performances throughout each and every day.
When I am home, I perform as well. I make up songs, oodles of songs! I sing, I dance, I create an environment fit for the stage.
Many songs are nothing more than moments in time. I think them up, spat them out - and move on. Occasionally, though, one has sticking power. It's so good that I can't bear to do away with it, so I let it stay on. I keep it alive through repetitive solitary performance.
My songs don't really have a central theme. Cilantro....the weather...the passing of time...a pen. They refer to the object in my vision when the need for creating strikes.
Bela is often in the room when these creative hazes take over. She usually just stares at me, habituated to my voice raising and my feet shuffling. Sometimes she becomes more than the observer; she becomes my inspiration.
After two years with her, I've written enough top hits to fill a Pandora station.
A few of the greats, by name:
LMB (i.e. Little Miss B) [a spoken-word rap]
BDB (i.e. Brown Dog Brigade) [also, a rap]
Come and See Your Mom
Little Brown Dog
Superior Lovin'
My family and friends are privy to private performances, that they may or may not enjoy. And though I tell a lot of Bela stories out and about, I have managed to keep my songs under wraps.
For the most part.
BDB (possibly my fave) has been on the backburner for a bit, as we moved, thereby braking up the brigade. But would that stop me from performing the rap for a group of people I barely knew at a party a couple of months ago? Oh no. I even waited until the birds had quieted until I began. Then I hunched over a bit (I find rapping is done better with the legs in a loose lunge) and let it fly.
I can't say much for the reaction of the observers. They seemed....confused. Amused. And thankfully, most were, at least partially, drunk. (Too bad I can't say the same for myself.)
Their reactions were amost preferable to that of my first performance of the same song. I speak of our old neighbor, the father of the remaining two brigade members. The song was offered up in his very honor!
I certainly caught him off guard, as we would normally run into eachother in the early morning...
When I spotted him on the sidewalk, I practically galloped up to him, eager to share the ode to our brood.
"Hey, I wrote a RAP about our DOGS!!!", I exclaimed.
"Uh............okay......" (Still likely not knowing he was about to HEAR said rap, at 7:45 in the morning.)
Then -- and bear in mind, this was one of the last times I saw him --
I closed my eyes for a split second before letting him into my world.
I rapped, the excitement audible, and then threw my hands up at the finale.
"WOW", he said.
Not 'wow' in the way I wanted; not 'wow' in the way I'd hoped.
I walked away sufficiently embarrassed, from the look on his face.
But about 5 minutes later, as I continued down the street, I replayed the rap in my head...
And I'll be damned if I didn't light up again, thinking just HOW GOOD it was....
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