FIRST. The hair experiment. When I woke up I realized it looked exactly the same as when I went to sleep. Surely beauty magazines know what they’re talking about, so I thought.. perhaps if I kind of comb out the crunchy mousse remnants…

 

 

{that is my “i am really unimpressed” face.. which looks a lot like my “this probably will not work out too well” face}

 
“Oh well,” I thought and with that I drove across town to my mom’s house.
SECOND. After holding my kitten and laying on my bed with my cat, I went on a tap-shoe hunt. Over the years I’ve owned many pairs of tap shoes. The classic white shiny ones, the black shiny ones, the classy adult heels and then after I switched to a more serious dance studio, a serious pair of tap shoes. Not that all tap shoes aren’t serious, but I always thought these were really legit.

Those aren’t my exact shoes, but you get it. However, today I couldn’t find those shoes. Luckily I have this compulsion where I buy any fitting tap shoes that I find at thrift stores. Last year, I found a pair when Tiffany and I went day-after-my-birthday thrifting. Since you weren’t there, I made this small collage so you can feel like you were.

{L: there was a small cute vanity, so I found a “princess fund” jar and a painting with my name and made it my own. R: me and tiffany. C: tap shoes we are discussing}

So back to the tap shoes. I, of course, cannot tap dance with red and white polka dotted ribbons. It’s been at least 10 years since I wore shoes with any kinds of ribbons, actually. I dug around and found some pink ribbon I had left over from camp.

and then I went to the garage and got down to business.

There was something really magical about that first moment I was waiting for iTunes to open and I aimlessly started tapping in place. It was as if just yesterday I learned new steps in class and was determined to perfect them.

Twenty five minutes later this was me:

{that is my “how could I forget how much I love tap dancing”/”I am sweatier than when I jog for 45 minutes”/”that was the fastest 25 minutes of my life” face}

Then, you guys.

Then I decided to see what 25 minutes of tap dancing had done to my hair.

 {that is my “this is never happening again”/”WHEN WILL MY HAIR GROW OUT”/”is it just me or is one side of my hair significantly longer than the other?” face}

All/most of my dreams that I wrote down revolve around art. About living art, being daring with it, not stifling it because of the pressures of people who don’t understand that I process life through creativity. It’s been years since “dance” has been a part of my creative process.

And all I can say is…

 

Welcome back, happy feet.