MGB had given a lot of thought to his dance routine. He recalled that whenever he was feeling sad, dance always helped him express it. He wanted his performance to show others a way of looking at dance as an outlet for expressing one’s sadness when comfort was needed most.
Curt was on board with the decision from the start. “Of course, I’ll dance with sadness,” he said. “I was born a weeping willow. I’m an expert in that emotion.”
MGB needed to get into the appropriate emotional space before their performance. He recalled episodes from his life that had caused him great sadness. They were the same episodes that had led him to put on his boxing gloves and keep them on permanently. They were acts of injustice that he himself had been subjected to and from which he had vowed to protect others. He played a slideshow in his mind of all the times he had been bullied for the gap in his front teeth, the time the Bullnose bell peppers had dirt kicked on them because of their variety, the time the shady side vegetables had been segregated from the sunny side. MGB held his eyes closed tight to secure those images in his mind. They had worked in arousing sadness, and he’d need them throughout his dance.
Curt went through the same emotional preparation. He sank into a memory of when he was just a little sapling. His first few branches had grown in bent and brittle. While the other young trees had grown long, flowing branches, his had struggled to get their start. The other young trees had teased him relentlessly. “Creepy Weepy!” had become their cruel mantra. Their words and mean treatment had stuck with Curt as a painful memory even as he grew into a beautiful, lush tree. “Creepy Weepy,” he mumbled to himself. The visceral pain brought his sadness to the surface.
MGB wore a long frown. He stood in front of Curt and asked, “Are you ready to go on, partner?”
“Feeling especially sad right now, so I’d say I’m definitely ready,” Curt replied.
The orchestra pit stretched several long roots tight into the shape of a harp and vibrated a melody that filled the theater with melancholy sounds. Tan drew himself back, leaving Curt the entire stage. The large, white flowers dimmed, and the mood of the audience shifted as it took in the ambiance.
MGB stood center stage with his face in his gloves. Playing in his mind were all the visuals he had just aroused. Curt slowly stretched two branches toward MGB and wrapped them around each wrist. Curt pulled, and MGB’s arms stretched out wide. His head hung, and he took a long lunge forward. Curt raised MGB’s arms high above his head. As MGB looked up, his face showed the emotions that were swirling in his head. Curt released him, and MGB left one arm extended. He traced the line of the extended arm with the glove on his free hand, then brought the glove across his chin, down his chest, and finally down the path of his leg as he lowered himself all the way down to the stage. He laid his head on his still extended arm and then moved to his knees and curled himself up tight. Curt extended his branches under MGB and pulled the limp bean upright. MGB grabbed ahold of Curt’s branches and used them like aerial silks. He wrapped himself in the branches and then arched out backwards as Curt braced him. He twirled and twisted as he climbed higher. At the top, he let go with both hands and tumbled and spun down through the branches. The crowd gasped. Just before MGB hit the stage, Curt caught him and tossed him up into a twirl of multiple rotations before grabbing him again by the waist. MGB bent forward and placed his face in his forearms. Curt lowered him to the stage. MGB threw out his arms and arched his head back as he fell into Curt’s embrace.
The dance grasped the audience firmly. It especially affected the occupants of one chair in particular. MGB’s entire family: his parents, grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, and sisters were all in attendance. None had ever seen MGB dance before, except for one family member, his cousin Beanard. Overtaken by emotion and feelings of remorse, Beanard began to cry.
“It really is a touching performance. Did it get to you?” Beanatrice asked as she put her arm around Beanard’s shoulders and pulled him in for a snuggle. Beanard rested his head on her shoulder and accepted the comfort as they watched the finale of MGB’s dance.
Curt pushed MGB upright and draped his branches over MGB’s shoulders. Curt threw MGB out, and MGB twirled along the stage with his head bent and his arms gliding through the air. As MGB neared the edge of the stage, Curt extended a long branch that wrapped around MGB’s wrist. He gave a sharp tug, and MGB reversed his spin and entangled into Curt’s branches as he returned. At center stage, Curt slowly untwined as MGB spun in a pirouette. When his spinning came to a full stop, MGB raised his hands above him and took hold of Curt’s branches. He dropped to his knee and pulled Curt with him. The two friends finished in an embrace, motionless, staring out at a silent audience.
As the music from the orchestra trailed off into silence, the crowd released the sadness they had absorbed through the performance. Many wiped tears from their faces. Some openly sobbed. Beanard started a soft, slow clap that rippled through the theater. Soft claps grew and grew into deafening applause. Curt and MGB stood up. Curt raised MGB’s arm high above his head, and they gave a low bow together. Tan released from his tie, took MGB’s other arm, and they swung him out over the appreciative crowd. MGB then caught sight of his family. They were cheering, smiling, and filled with pride. The overwhelming emotion brought happy tears streaming down MGB’s face. Curt and Tan lowered him back to the stage. He wildly waved to his family while they wildly waved back to him. Beanard climbed up the back of the chair and shouted, “That dance grasped ahold of my soul!”
MGB had given a lot of thought to his dance routine. He recalled that whenever he was feeling sad, dance always helped him express it. He wanted his performance to show others a way of looking at dance as an outlet for expressing one’s sadness when comfort was needed most.
Curt was on board with the decision from the start. “Of course, I’ll dance with sadness,” he said. “I was born a weeping willow. I’m an expert in that emotion.”
MGB needed to get into the appropriate emotional space before their performance. He recalled episodes from his life that had caused him great sadness. They were the same episodes that had led him to put on his boxing gloves and keep them on permanently. They were acts of injustice that he himself had been subjected to and from which he had vowed to protect others. He played a slideshow in his mind of all the times he had been bullied for the gap in his front teeth, the time the Bullnose bell peppers had dirt kicked on them because of their variety, the time the shady side vegetables had been segregated from the sunny side. MGB held his eyes closed tight to secure those images in his mind. They had worked in arousing sadness, and he’d need them throughout his dance.
Curt went through the same emotional preparation. He sank into a memory of when he was just a little sapling. His first few branches had grown in bent and brittle. While the other young trees had grown long, flowing branches, his had struggled to get their start. The other young trees had teased him relentlessly. “Creepy Weepy!” had become their cruel mantra. Their words and mean treatment had stuck with Curt as a painful memory even as he grew into a beautiful, lush tree. “Creepy Weepy,” he mumbled to himself. The visceral pain brought his sadness to the surface.
MGB wore a long frown. He stood in front of Curt and asked, “Are you ready to go on, partner?”
“Feeling especially sad right now, so I’d say I’m definitely ready,” Curt replied.
The orchestra pit stretched several long roots tight into the shape of a harp and vibrated a melody that filled the theater with melancholy sounds. Tan drew himself back, leaving Curt the entire stage. The large, white flowers dimmed, and the mood of the audience shifted as it took in the ambiance.
MGB stood center stage with his face in his gloves. Playing in his mind were all the visuals he had just aroused. Curt slowly stretched two branches toward MGB and wrapped them around each wrist. Curt pulled, and MGB’s arms stretched out wide. His head hung, and he took a long lunge forward. Curt raised MGB’s arms high above his head. As MGB looked up, his face showed the emotions that were swirling in his head. Curt released him, and MGB left one arm extended. He traced the line of the extended arm with the glove on his free hand, then brought the glove across his chin, down his chest, and finally down the path of his leg as he lowered himself all the way down to the stage. He laid his head on his still extended arm and then moved to his knees and curled himself up tight. Curt extended his branches under MGB and pulled the limp bean upright. MGB grabbed ahold of Curt’s branches and used them like aerial silks. He wrapped himself in the branches and then arched out backwards as Curt braced him. He twirled and twisted as he climbed higher. At the top, he let go with both hands and tumbled and spun down through the branches. The crowd gasped. Just before MGB hit the stage, Curt caught him and tossed him up into a twirl of multiple rotations before grabbing him again by the waist. MGB bent forward and placed his face in his forearms. Curt lowered him to the stage. MGB threw out his arms and arched his head back as he fell into Curt’s embrace.
The dance grasped the audience firmly. It especially affected the occupants of one chair in particular. MGB’s entire family: his parents, grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, and sisters were all in attendance. None had ever seen MGB dance before, except for one family member, his cousin Beanard. Overtaken by emotion and feelings of remorse, Beanard began to cry.
“It really is a touching performance. Did it get to you?” Beanatrice asked as she put her arm around Beanard’s shoulders and pulled him in for a snuggle. Beanard rested his head on her shoulder and accepted the comfort as they watched the finale of MGB’s dance.
Curt pushed MGB upright and draped his branches over MGB’s shoulders. Curt threw MGB out, and MGB twirled along the stage with his head bent and his arms gliding through the air. As MGB neared the edge of the stage, Curt extended a long branch that wrapped around MGB’s wrist. He gave a sharp tug, and MGB reversed his spin and entangled into Curt’s branches as he returned. At center stage, Curt slowly untwined as MGB spun in a pirouette. When his spinning came to a full stop, MGB raised his hands above him and took hold of Curt’s branches. He dropped to his knee and pulled Curt with him. The two friends finished in an embrace, motionless, staring out at a silent audience.
As the music from the orchestra trailed off into silence, the crowd released the sadness they had absorbed through the performance. Many wiped tears from their faces. Some openly sobbed. Beanard started a soft, slow clap that rippled through the theater. Soft claps grew and grew into deafening applause. Curt and MGB stood up. Curt raised MGB’s arm high above his head, and they gave a low bow together. Tan released from his tie, took MGB’s other arm, and they swung him out over the appreciative crowd. MGB then caught sight of his family. They were cheering, smiling, and filled with pride. The overwhelming emotion brought happy tears streaming down MGB’s face. Curt and Tan lowered him back to the stage. He wildly waved to his family while they wildly waved back to him. Beanard climbed up the back of the chair and shouted, “That dance grasped ahold of my soul!”