Sensational jitters of freedom and enlightenment race through my body every time I get a chance to embrace the music through every movement. My slim body, ebony skin, hazel eyes, and full black hair that flows to my round caramel colored shoulders all tell a story; every part of me responds to the rhythm-lyrics, expressing who I am. I feel as if I’m alone dancing on God’s cloud, confident to express everything I’ve ever felt, seen, or thought. My passion for dance trembles and burns from the soles of my feet to my head. It’s as if this passion entered in blood stream, was inherited from my mom.

She once felt the delight to step at each beat and let her body flow to every harmony whenever she felt like showing her emotions or whenever she struggled through situations. Dance is our ticket out of reality [that we both have a passion for!] Sharing this passion with her makes me speechless for the both of us. The best part is when our imagination takes over when we prepare to step out of reality dancing together.

Whenever I escape reality through dance, not only does my imagination run wild but I also fall into the voice of the music and each beat vibrates in my heart and pounds through my ears. It is a feeling that sends shocks of tingles all over me. It was the same feeling I had thirteen years ago when my big cousin Sissy and I were dancing like crazy animals to Beyoncé -the booming jet black stereo that was turned all the way to “think you’re deaf”. I didn’t know how to dance at the time, but my cousin was a pro! (I use to say things like) “Sissy can you teach me? I can’t do it like you…” I wanted to learn badly and to be taught. I felt the adrenaline surge through my body with its buddy named hyper. That night will never be forgotten because not only was it the night that I learned how to dance but it was also the night I fell in love with dance.

Now, after years of practice I always make sure to sign up for any talent shows. My anxious eyes rush over each contestant’s name on the bulletin board who made it. Heat mixes in with amazement when I see my name; it spreads all over my body, like the green grass does over a spring valley. Of course, I already knew that I would make it. Confidence---it was something called confidence that I’d grew within me. The only barrier that I face, the monster I’ve yet to conquer is stage fright, but only if I can directly see the numerous faces staring at me. But, hey, when the colorful lights coats the stage and the music starts, I escape into my imagination. There’s no chickening out, the story begins. This strength to overcome this silly barrier just lets me know that dancing is really for me and not even stage fright will stop me. Dancing not only defines me but shapes me as a person.

When dancing I become a totally different character. The inner Erica no longer plays the silent game; she takes over and shows others a bold and fierce side. She personifies attitude and dedication; no one can stop her. I’ve been dancing for so long that I believe I’ve naturally become the inner me. I’m no longer a shy person; instead I am outspoken. I’m no longer quiet; instead, I am fierce, I am bold. Not only do I love the way dancing shapes and carves me out to be this new young woman, but I’m impressed that something such as a talent can have so much power to cause that outcome. I believe this is the main feeling I get when I start to unravel my bodily instrument. The feeling is beautiful and spontaneous, like tiny sensational jitters of freedom and enlightenment.

                                                                                                   Erica Paschel