I dance; and when I see performances of modern dance I realise that
they're doing professionally what my instincts have taught me to make up,
albeit less skillfully, on the fly. I dance to the music: which may seem
fatuous, but most folk dance predominantly to the other folk dancing, allowing
the music to influence little more than the basic rhythm and style of their
dance. Various folk, watching me dance, have accused me of ballet and tai
chi; I even took a couple of tai chi classes out of consequent curiosity, but
these taught me static slices of movement, where my instincts produce entirely
dynamic responses to music.
I would be inclined to describe the way I dance as involving my entire
body in the process of listening; in some senses, my conscious mind gets
out of the way and hands over my body as a puppet whose strings are the music,
leaving the band to make the puppet dance while my conscious mind watches
– often awed at the feats of agility that result. Getting my conscious
mind out of the way takes either a very good band or a moderate amount of
cider. My preferred venues are pubs; in Britain the cider could usually be
taken for granted, but I now live in Norway, where it's not so
ubiquitous.
I have danced to many styles of music. I don't have to like the music itself
to enjoy dancing to it – but liking the music does help. I prefer
dancing to live bands, though recorded music is entirely feasible (it's just
less fun; I shalln't pretend to be able to explain why). I've enjoyed dancing
to musicians using Robot Ringo backing; though musicians who play along to the
Ringo (i.e. let the robot lead, rather than playing around it) are a waste of
time. I dance to the music I'm about to hear, seemingly knowing what's coming
before it does; I suppose my subliminal mind must know more about the natural
dynamics of music than I can explain, since this works with bands I've never
heard before, playing music I've never head before (and I don't believe in
clairvoyance, not even the fraction of a second that'd be needed to explain
this effect). The way I dance may well be related
to the way I juggle.
Dancing typically leaves me exhausted: but it's therapeutic in ways I
can't describe; the exercise does me good; I gain a better appreciation of the
music, thereby, than I can by sitting and listening; and it even amuses some
of the folk who frequent the pubs in which I most often do it. So I don't
intend to give up any time soon.
I have danced to many styles of music. I don't have to like the music itself
to enjoy dancing to it – but liking the music does help. I prefer
dancing to live bands, though recorded music is entirely feasible (it's just
less fun; I shalln't pretend to be able to explain why). I've enjoyed dancing
to musicians using Robot Ringo backing; though musicians who play along to the
Ringo (i.e. let the robot lead, rather than playing around it) are a waste of
time. I dance to the music I'm about to hear, seemingly knowing what's coming
before it does; I suppose my subliminal mind must know more about the natural
dynamics of music than I can explain, since this works with bands I've never
heard before, playing music I've never head before (and I don't believe in
clairvoyance, not even the fraction of a second that'd be needed to explain
this effect). The way I dance may well be related
to the way I juggle. 
