I want to talk about dancing.
How at parties I've put on music, danceable, and people continue to talk. I've turned the music up, and people respond by talking louder and then I turn the music up louder still and people begin to shout as if they are at a 20-something bar. It occurs to nobody to begin to move, but to yell.
When I was in Venezuela years ago, visiting a then boyfriend, at every single party everybody danced. Therefore, I danced, because there was no one to talk to, or shout at. They were all on the dance floor, even the very old, and the seemingly frail, even my boyfriend's very pregnant cousin, wearing, si, a leopard print catsuit.
I've started to dance more now that I have children. Because they don't know what's impossible. (Por ejemplo: Leopard print catsuits.)
Children can respond to music however they like. My son has a dance that is uniquely his and he's been doing it since he could stand. It is a waggle bee dance, I think. He sticks out his butt, waggles it as if a bee signifying where the pollen is, three miles away, in the cornflower. Then he makes little circles and flaps his arms.
Is it art? I don't know. But it is a response to life: wail in, dance out.