galadhir

I've found a lady who has the same sort of shape as me, who dances the same kind of dance that I would love to dance. She has such precision and confidence-verging-on-arrogance and strength and lyricism and sweetness. I don't know that I can get my creaky old, arthritic person to do some of the things she does (that back bend!) but I love her sense of theatre. I love how she has combined bellydance with inspiration from sci-fi and theatre to make something that is very unique.

Much though I like dancing, I haven't been able to find any genuine love in my heart for the whole 'scantily clad get in touch with your inner goddess who is also a sexy flirt' malarky, chiefly because I don't think I have an inner goddess of any kind, let alone a sexy one. But as a writer I 100% have an inner Evil Galactic Emperor, or an inner hero or villain character of a sort that I can lean into.

So I the new dance I am now wrestling with is inspired by the plot in Stargate Universe in which Chloe - experimented on by aquatic aliens - fears she is losing her humanity, even while she grows stronger and more intelligent.

My question was, why the heck wouldn't you embrace that? Super strength? The ability to do maths? Sign me up.

I've just got to find a way of expressing this in dance.

Straw Bear 2023 started with a downpour in which the entire procession got soaking wet. Including a friend's melodeon (melodeons have paper bellows, so this is not good.) The Riot fielded six dancers, four of whom danced in the procession and the other two (one of whom was me) carried all the bags, coats etc.

I tried to play the whistle with the musicians at the same time, but what with the heavy packs and the water going down my fipple it was too hard and I had to leave it up to the rest of the musicians. At least our melodeon player was buried under a waterproof poncho, which was fastened around the instrument's straps so it wouldn't billow in the wind, and his instrument remained dry.

First session in the morning was at the Ivyleaf, fortunately indoors because the downpour continued, and I must say I enjoyed being out of the cold, somewhere where we could sit down between dances.

By the second session the rain had cleared up so we were thrown out on the streets to dance around the town.

I'm with Ely & Littleport Riot and DH is with Mepal Molly, but fortunately the two sides are so intertwined that they decided to send us round together. (We share musicians and at least one dancer.) It's nice.

11 year old Ivor was dancing with Mepal Molly this year, which is hilarious as the rest of them are silver haired and bearded and look like decrepid ancient farm labourers (which is what the original Mepal Molly were.) Ivor seemed to have a great time at least.

Third session in the afternoon was in a street that acted like a wind tunnel, and as we were all still damp from the morning it started to get very cold. Then there was a final dance in the market square, by which time the cold had sunk deep in the marrow of my bones and I knew I would never get warm again without soaking in a scorching bath.

Fortunately by that time we were ready to go home. So I've had the bath and am now warm again, with an ibuprofen for my aching feet. Altogether a very satisfactory day, even though it was much smaller this year, post covid.

There were only two bears this year, a big and a baby bear, but whoever was inside the big bear was giving it his all, because I've never seen such vigorous dancing from a straw bear. He was an unusually shaggy bear with the heads of the wheat left on. They're going to burn him in private tomorrow, instead of the usual public immolation, which doesn't worry me because I think the whole burning thing is creepy and I never turn up for it anyway.

More about the festival here