dance

In my first year in the city, I remember walking through Madison Square Park on my way to work, and noticing the girl in front of me with headphones on just bopping her head a little bit, then swaying in small circles. Suddenly she broke to a stop, just planted her feet and threw her arms in the air and started breaking it down, like she was 15 standing in her bedroom with her hairbrush as a microphone. The men and women in suits and the early street cleaners, gave her a look, and just kept walking. No matter what happens in New York, the thing to do is always to keep moving. I was still green and didn't know the rules, and so I stared.

She was tracing the pattern of invisible rain with her fingertips, and then she was clenching her fists, and she was knocking on the air, her arms out wide then narrow and then she was shimmying down into a twist. And when she rose, she actually did, she danced a little circle, one pointed toe in front of the other. The whole time, her eyes were shut tight, her nose scrunched, her curls were bouncing. I thought she might just explode or vaporize and simply become the music.

(photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaitastrophic/3460193557/sizes/o/)