"I love my art!"

Zack & Maryse

Swing out!

Whenever people ask why artists (or athletes for that matter) dedicate themselves to extremes to their form of art, most of them just answer: "I love my art!" Simple. Obvious, even. It should answer the question. Yet, the outsider can't help but wonder what they truly get out of, say, falling off a snowboard on an icy slope or standing in front of a glass-blowing oven to mold a beautiful vase.

Earlier this week, I attended the monthly Swing night at Petit Chicago in Gatineau (QC). The Outaouais valley suffered a record breaking heatwave with a blazing 34 degrees plus humidex... which meant that the air was a wet blanket of 44 degrees. Temperature in the Petit Chicago? I'm not sure, but I'm guessing Hell must feel a little like this. This weather is also relatively dangerous for seniors, infants and well... asthmatics, such as myself. Nevertheless, without being reckless, I have never been one to play the victim or complain. I gathered my dance shoes, my water bottle and my pump. I put on some comfy shorts and - this is a first for my lindy dancing - a sporty cami. I sleeked back my untameable hair. I splashed deodorant and brushed my teeth. I even packed a towel. Think this heatwave was going to stop me? Guess again. And so, I was on my way.

When I arrived in Hell, gates wide open, I found there were a merry bunch of shiny newcomers and some laid-back oldtimers. I chatted a bit with some friends. No one seemed to mind that by merely standing there, sweat was trickling down our foreheads, our arms and our legs. Have you ever SEEN sweat from a knee cap before? I hadn't. The social dancing began and to my surprise, the folks that were present were actually dancing: maybe not busting out their fast lindy or their craziest charleston, but everyone danced, pressed to each other, no care in the world for the heat or its consequences... Everything from Lindy to Blues and WestCoast, the Ottawa-Gatineau Lindy hoppers and Westies totally blew up the joint. Who needs A/C? We're kicking it oldschool. Take that, Global Warming! See if we care what's cooking in your kitchen: we're cooking up dynamite!

The thing is, when you committ to the art - precisely for what it is - and you let it be, you forget about being self-conscious, uncomfortable, tired or sore. You just do it. Kahlil Gibran said that work was love made visible. When dancers work, they are showering the world with their love.

As a classical and modern dancer, I have experienced many injuries, aches, cuts and bruises. I have also been a victim of wardrobe malfunctions! Some nights, I barely felt like dressing down and leaving the house to attend my class. During these sessions, I often felt like I probably should have stayed home. But when my teacher wrapped up the class, I felt the warmth of my tired muscles weighing me down, my sweat pearling, rolling down every inch of me, I was beaming. I felt so satisfied: I had pushed my body and drew a live, ephemeral canvas. One, that would never be the same, but was unique and truly my own. When I dance, I am present, aware and alive. There is no greater joy than being in the now. Dance is the activity that achieves this for me.

In the end, the art doesn't matter so much as it changes from person to person, but finding that one thing that makes you say "I love my art!", that is the most precious gift I have found life has given me so far.