shoulders to ears
It’s officially that time of the semester, that time when my shoulders live shrugged half way up to my ears due to the tension that I hold in my neck and upper back. It’s that time when my hips are still from sitting to much and my back is tight with immobility. It’s that time of the semester where I attribute everything to “that time of the semester” as if the whole world functions on an academic calendar. It’s that time of the semester when my nose hits the spine of the book and my fingers rehearse choreographies with the keyboard. Somehow, this time of the semester is that time when I stop seeing dance, or even dancing in order to think really hard about dance. Now, this sounds quite counter intuitive. In fact, it is. But, nonetheless, it seems that this is the life of a dance scholar. I hypocritically stop moving to think about how mind and body, practice and theory are not dichotomous.
