Blogging Bi Day, Dance by Night

All things Bi, Dance and random musings for our edification

Isadora Duncan: 1877-1927. The Mother of Modern Dance and Bi

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I must read “My Life” by Isadora Duncan soon. Months ago when I was contemplating, researching, investigating the bi calendar project I came across Ms. Duncan as a great and famous person who was bi but then promptly  forgot about it.  It was filed away somewhere in my mind but then yesterday thinking about dance I remembered that fact and let out a yelp almost worthy of Archimedes in the bath tub in ancient Greece. True, I had not just discovered some eternal truth in mathematics but she is now my heroine and role model. Well one of many I have. Plus she was quite left wing in her social political views which would endear her to me ginormously.  When she bared her breast  and waved a red scarf once on stage during a performance in Boston,  she said “it is red and so am I”  Do you think I am NOT going to fall head over heels for this triple threat to my sacre coeur?  Bi in an era where that was hardly done, mother of modern dance (her appellation) and socialist views.  Even something about her existentialist, Camus-worthy death is endearing, i.e. dies in a freak automobile accident at the age of 50 undone by her long flowing silk scarf.  Plus born in one of my favourite American cities (San Francisco) which I have visited many times  and loved.


Below, what a wonderful  life affirming sentiment and motto to live by.


I do not  know that I was tamed into being a monosexual but I do feel free, liberated, released from some kind of gaol that I made for myself  of my own volition, as an adult for decades, ever since I came out.   In a sense I was at the very same time a prisoner and my very own jailer.  I kept myself in stripes, with a very big dose of corporal punishment daily, hourly as in self-loathing eternal non stop negative self talk,  self hatred.  I had put my being into solitary confinement (quite literally in that I became a hermit, a recluse, a shut in for a decade in particular before   this summer’s tumult).   Dancing is such a perfect real concrete activity and metaphor for me right now. This opening up to new life all around me.  Especially my own self-created existence I am forging every day now.   And it was all so easy, sudden in a sense.  One day (actually a weekend to be exact) I simply woke up,  realized my prison cell where I kept my soul did not have iron bars on it, so I  quietly opened the door which was shut but never locked  and went out into the light, into the sunshine that brings joy.   Just like that.  Just like that all the accumulated anger, rage, wrath, fury, moroseness fell away as if cut off with a pair of scissors.

Could there be a more perfect quote to illustrate what I am feeling right now? See below.


Yes, this is exactly what I am thinking, feeling, believing with my whole being.  I do not simply  want  to rework any wiki entry on her life.  Go read up on her and you will see why I love her.  Her fondness for the ancient Greek myths, a returning of dance to the sacred but mixing in the profane in the form of American athleticism,  (running, leaping, skipping for example) . Many years ago I wrote to a friend that “life is movement and movement is life. ”   This was  my e=mc2 moment.  Even supposedly stationary activities would be included, such as reading, writing or meditating.  Stillness can be movement for the soul.


I know busy-a-holics whose life is some kind of non stop whirlwind tour de force but falls under the rubric of sound and fury signifying nothing.  Constantly running around like the proverbial chicken without a head they fill up their empty lives with nonsense. they create nothing but chaos and confusion for people around them who have to pick up the detritus they make on earth.   They give nothing of themselves to the universe, and their fellow sisters and brothers.   Their souls have not evolved.  It is all about ‘what can you do for me?”  Users and takers on the planet not givers and helpers.  Poor deluded fools.   They remind me of Dante’s pitiful souls  who are forever chasing a banner as their punishment. The poet tries to illustrate  the point that in life those souls never took a stand so now they are  condemned to run pointlessly after a blank, unnamed flag to no purpose at all.


Above,  press clipping about her death. A real death in Tehran feel to it, in its absurdity, oddity.   In 2015 when the bi calendar project is realized, definitely a picture-month for her.
In the interim go out and dance your life away. Who knows how long you have.    It may be later than you think.  Go  tell someone you love them today.



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