Three (3)

There are three dimensions.  Three comprehensible ones, that is.  When we start to learn to dance tango we only use two of them.  In fact, right at the beginning, we probably only use one.  Forwards and backwards.  It's enough.  And then, we learn to turn and the possibilities expand thousandfold.  Our movements are now free in the X and the Y.  Floorcraft considerations permitting.  And maybe we stop there.  We can dance, in those two dimensions.  There are infinite possibilities already.  I think many people don't realise that a third dimension exists.  I think I'm only just becoming aware of the third dimension.  Like someone who's spend his life looking at the ground in front of his feet, and now has suddenly noticed the sky.

And I don't mean using the third dimension to bob up and down like a cork with every step.  And I don't mean using it to allow a couple to launch each other into the air or perform acrobatics.  I mean using it to modulate each step.  To provide extra information.  To change a sideward 'plonk' step into a smooth sinking into the floor, or to change a slow pivot into an edge-of-the-rollercoaster, edge-of-the-cliff, preparation to dive.

And here's an interesting confluence.  Interesting to me, anyway.  The ear has three canals responsible for telling us how we're oriented in our three-dimensional space.  And the ear is also responsible for allowing us to hear the music.  And this prompts me to ask myself a question: how three-dimensionally do I hear the music?  I'm told I have good musicality.  I feel that I have good musicality.  But perhaps I'm complacent, now, and lazy.  The music is deep.  Compared to the music, I dance shallowly.

Time to listen properly, again.  Time to scratch further into the surface.