Thursday, May 3, 2012

What Does the Heart Yearn for?

For me, I know when I've seen a great film, mostly when it inspires me to go and do something. And Pina inspired me to dance in the middle of the streets, barefoot. And laugh and leap, feel alive and inspired. I miss that feeling in my life.


Artists have the imagination and liberation to express themselves that we let die when we become grownups.
A sad and disheartening realization that pairs nicely with worries and wrinkles. 

I've been classically trained in ballet but soon lost interest once I learned that my training started too late to become a competitive dancer. I continue with my training in my (nonexistent) free time at home, nonetheless and may resume when I graduate from my collegiate studies (at least 5 years from now).

Now that I'm relatively close to the end of my college career, I realize that being an artist by trade would have made me the happiest. And it's never too late to pick up another life path? While watching the film, I thought to myself:

"There is no greater calling than being an artist, because at the end of the day they remind us that no matter how many things we acquire or accomplish, everyone is born, lives and dies. There's something ultimately transformative about being able to translate that through any media."

I quickly scribbled the above thought in my journal with fervored passion, to capture the moment of inspiration, but not miss any moment of the film. I wanted to leap through the screen and join them. I wanted to bring Pina back and ask her what she often demanded of her dancers: 

"What are we longing for? Where does all this yearning come from?"

What did she yearn for that inspired her pieces? What secret does she know about life that I haven't been made privy to? As in artist, she almost seemed immortal when achieving the deeply rooted understanding that unites us all as human. She understands death, aging, love, life, death, friendship, joy, longing, loss, celebration...

Pina is a very intelligent film because with most, if not all dance sequences, the juxtaposition of the dancer superimposed on a very ordinary setting (like a train trolley, subway station or a traffic intersection) you get the feeling that there's something to be said about the beauty in everyday tasks. The transient and transcendent nature of finding that there is beauty and art in everyday life is achingly wonderful. Here is an excerpt from the film below that is one of my favorite: 

Much ballet love,

The Fashionista