Today was a good day. It was the end of a year of lots and lots of dance-- from Hong Kong, to Evocation, to SDD, to SUAD, to TRDO, to Let Me Fall, to Rumi, to Suntec, to THE Sundays, to Next Wave, to EMCC, to Jess' THE Fridays, to Recital, and to Open Stage today. To dance is a privilege; I am counting my blessings.
Today wasn't a good day-- because I let myself down. Nonetheless, there was something good about a not-so-good day: the bad stuff made it memorable. The days had been passing as if they'd been passing through formulae: predictable and safe. But today, the bad stuff stirred a violent reaction, and in a way made me feel alive.
Today was a good day-- because it spoke of the journey and the progress that had taken place. They were there and then-- the good, the bad, and the ugly-- and no one could ever take them away from me.
Today is a good day.
