I have few words to say. It is late and I am in transition, having just returned from seeing the Bellydancing Allstars, a bellydancing troupe currently on tour with Lollapalooza. They were amazing, a crew of gorgeous women from across the globe dancing in what I can only describe as the most provocative way known to man. Not mankind; to man. Actually I'm wrong because three-fourths of the people at the venue were women, and there was plenty of your hooting and hollering as these ladies carved the very air. But let there be no doubt: bellydancing is primal and sensual and sexy, no matter what scholars they quote in the brochure to anchor the dance's roots to art and culture. But it's late and tomorrow I am going to hear a Hindu swami give a prayer session in Huntsville, so I'm trying to be objective. My goal this week is to subject myself to as much nontraditional cultural influence as possible and see what I think about it all.
As Ryan put it, "All you need to do is go to a mosque on Wednesday and a synagogue on Thursday and you'll have all your bases covered." I might do that. I'll report as the experiences expand.
