d-pict | dance odyssey

Someone was mocked in the Shag class for complaining of being 'solo.' “Que vida triste! (what a sad life)“ said the teacher. We all laughed. It was funny because this 'solo' loneliness would only last a few minutes... until the next dance rotation. Also dancing solo is its own pleasure... but we know dancing can be more fun with a good partner, like life. Or worse with a bad one... There were moments when I had the blues. It was difficult to recover from the long days and nights of dancing, when our bed was not 50m from the dance floor. But blues music kept me company. "Nobody loves me, nobody cares Every day I've got the blues" "Ain't it lonesome ain't it blue when the one you love is not with you (is loving someone else) " There was not enough social blues at Policoro, so Mike from Cork took over the sound system on the last night, when the lindy crowd was away dancing in town. I helped him out by DJing an hour of this gravey...

Cyril is a well of knowledge with a passion for African diaspora culture, and he kindly hosted me for a few days Lyon. I scratched the surface of his wonderful library – always a source of inspiration. I'm looking forward to his forthcoming book, Voices of the Diaspora. Cyril remarked on how I helped him to discover new things in his own city. I marvelled at the serenity of his apartment and of Lyon in general. The quiet of Lyon after the roar, the bustle of Bali, was astonishing. Structurally Lyon is my ideal city: bike friendly, walkable urban planning, elegant tree-top apartment blocks, shady courtyards, turquoise rivers, steep hills and lookouts. There are also many beautiful Afro-French ppl, most notably the gorgeous diva of Trio Aliado who we heard at the Opera terrace. This lady almost made me cry with her beauty, her powerful stage presence. I was moved to tears with empathy for a younger me... otherworldly, head-turning and for all I knew, utterly unique. Of co...

"You were a smile with a person attached." When he saw me arriving at camp, Dan Nash said he knew something had changed in my life. Dan has also made big changes... after a near death experience at a gig in Berlin, he's moved from the UK to Spain. This dance camp is so beautiful. Between drinking, eating and sleeping, everyone is dancing, playing music or singing, in a lush, peaceful mountain retreat. Dramatic peaks wreathed in cloud, fragrant lavender, kissed by bees and butterflies, kittens playing ... ahhh. Tonight I felt really connected. I spent about 2.5 or three hours preparing my 1hr DJ set. I checked in with Mr Nash about my idea of warming up with calypso, reggae and hip hop, because the blues scene has a lot of purists and I haven't heard these styles aired much. Annette had been a bit skeptical /cautious about my idea. Dan reassured me 'if you won't dance to reggae, you don't deserve to have legs'. He advised that I steer clear...

The smell of mandarin peel, horse sweat and leather on my hands after a ride through timeless lush paddy fields. I feel the continuity from plants, crops and trees through horse, dog, cat, chicken, pig, human. This continuity is celebrated in the imagery, costumes, statues, dances and offerings of the daily Hindu worship here. So different from the Christian separation from the animal world. Yet I've seen more animal suffering here than anywhere I can recall. When people live close to their animals they can be surprisingly careless and cruel. In a restaurant: a small menagerie of caged birds includes a sulphur-crested cockatoo, grey skin where his white plumage should have been, constantly falling off his perch and hauling himself back on. While we eat, he constantly chews his metal bars and chains, struggling to be free. A calf tied to a tree has twisted himself into a choke hold and can't undo it. And then there's just the cruelty of nature when it meets the develo...

Like most migrants she brings to a her new home the energy to realise all of her hopes and dreams.  I saw the distinctive silhouette of Michele's twisted Afro hair, and our eyes met as I walked past her Jamaican restaurant.  The next day I popped in to say hi. Straightaway there was a friendly recognition ... she is from Jamaica by way of New York. I am from the neighbouring island of Barbados, by way of Ireland, USA, Australia. A stocky woman (in her 50s?), M had beautiful smooth golden skin, full lips and huge green eyes behind black-rimmed spectacles, her hair dyed dark plum red. She said she would like to have hair like mine one day. We talked about the benefits and challenges of having natural hair. M. said she was done with straightening. Natural all the way. You know your people are oppressed when their default position is to use expensive chemicals in order to resemble the dominant social group or their standards of beauty. As some women need plastic surgery i...

For my first weekend in Bali I'm joined by a dear old friend who lives in Jakarta. Almost 2 decades my senior, Tony pushes me beyond my comfort zone, into the zone of adventure. Tony's plan for our second day in Bali: ride down the mountain through farms and villages for 40km without a guide. The night before collecting the rental bikes we tried them out – they needed work. The shopkeeper said that he would fix them up: firm tyres, oil and working brakes. On the morning of the big ride, my front tyre was mushy. The shopkeeper told me he did not have a pump. Incredulous, I said 'You don't have a pump? But this is a bike shop!' He got on the bike himself and said 'There is enough air.' 'I ride a bike every day,’ I said. 'I know when there is enough air. That tyre is too soft.' The guy disappeared up the road for a short while with the bike, came back and asked me to try it – no difference. When Tony arrived with my coffee, he responded calmly...

All words and images © Deirdre Molloy 2006-2007 except quote: "Life may sometimes be sad, but it's always beautiful." Jamie Liddell -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fall Today I walked alone seeing Beauty all around but especially in the decaying flowers going to seed gracefully in the late September sun. black bouquets and white fluffy tufts bunched on bleached stalks like an army of widows turned upside-down, some armed with brown, spiky spears. A crunchy feast for a field mouse ripe and ready, seeking pastures new a pigs back, a bird's belly, a gust of wind to shake, to scatter, to fly, to fall. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Leap of Faith Laid out below like an Irish flag Are rich green and gold August fields (an infinite series of polygons) Topped with creamy white froth and with a bent finger of colour the...