The matter dreams are made of


This photo was taken a couple of nights ago, during a rare nocturnal writing session. Here´s a side of me the public rarely, if ever, gets to see: bare faced, cranky, sleepy and, apparently, cold. There´s my Dancer´s Persona; there´s my Writing Persona and then there´s my Writing in the middle of the night against my will Persona. This is the one captured in the image. When I´m not travelling – and I travel for work constantly -, I work out and write the heavy stuff (book in question) in the morning. Afternoons are for teaching, choreographing, reviewing the morning´s work. Nights are for relaxing, digesting the day´s work, making love, going to the movies, renewing myself, dreaming; performing, if that´s the case. Except when a phrase insists I have to take care of it in the middle of the night. So I got out of bed – disturbing a friend who was staying with me in the process -, put my rusty, old male robe on, grabbed a cup of coffee (at 3 am!) and wrote. Forget the fancy cigar, the whisky, the vintage typewriter and the inspired look on the writer´s face. There´s fiction and then there´s reality. It may not be so shining, or cute. Hell, yeah!, sometimes it´s awful. But it´s true. Rewarding. Beautiful in its raw, uncoloured, vulnerable way. This, my friends, it´s the matter dreams are made of. When I´m all sweaty and muscle-broken in the dance studio, searching for a movement which insists on hiding itself from me; when I wake up at 3 am because a phrase won´t let me sleep until I put it, and myself, to rest on paper. This, I suspect, is the dream.

This photo was taken by my friend, the one whom I awakened in the process of being awakened  by the phrase which awakened me (loads of awakenings). In his immense sensibility, he believed it was worth to witness, and register, my writing insomnia.

Who, if not someone who loves me and appreciates the value of the marathon(s) I´ve been running, would think of registering such a moment?

It´s probably the worst looking picture I´ve ever seen of me. Vanity issues aside, it´s wonderful.

Wonderful because it´s true & profoundly human.

Wonderful because of what it represents.

Wonderful because, thanks to millions of moments like this, dreams DO come true, one (unglamorous) moment at a time.

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