Dancing as a child--that brought back memories... My dad was half Scottish and we grew up with the sound of bagpipes and drums--very primal now that l look back at it. And I guess "primal" is the base notion of dance for me. I've always responded to music and especially drums, so much so that I had to learn to hold myself back. In my own room, with the music loud, I used to mimic playing drums. As I became older and more self-conscious, I realized other girls didn't do "air drums" and so I learned to just move one hand a little...sad...

But put me in a car by myself on a summer night, heading to the beach with all the windows open, the music is up, my right hand is drumming and I am in heaven!

I have a picture postcard of Bruce Springsteen on my refridgerator. It's attached to the fridge by the magnet words: "The man said go dance". I'm 46 and grew up w/ his music. I've seen him perform live quite a few times over the last (yikes) 25 years. And really, to say "seen him perform" is a misnomer. Instead, when attending a concert, I am aware of being one of thousands at a time who come together to connect on a very primal basis. (there is primal again!) There's something that moves into us and through us, collectively, and we dance and come alive for those few hours. And then when it is over, and we all are leaving, we carry with us the memory of that collective primal experience. It's as if somehow we've been transformed back to who we are at our core--emotions of joy, love, anger, fear--all that comes through and we remember that we are connected and in this together as humans, doing the best we can...