Wed 21 August 2013 Having had little sleep the night before, last night I selpt well and woke up at a more conventional time of about 9.30
Didn’t shop or go to library. Read a while and wondered what I wanted to say at the interview. Went to beach at about 4. Very low tide so there was a vast expanse of dance floor and a low sun and lots of thin cloud. A small girl who I recognised from the last few days ran over and asked, “Why do you dance here every day?” I replied that it was because I enjoy it, just like those two girls enjoy doing those marvellous cartwheels they do. (The two girls looked at each other, seemed pleased and then ran away – I presume to tell mom.) My inquisitor returned to her family and I waved to dad who waved back. I soon got into the groove and drifted into a pleasant state while becoming ever more flamboyant. A blonde woman of maybe 35 who was walking behind me started making arm gestures similar to mine (outstretched to the side then back to her body) I acknowledged her and she walked past. Some time later she was returning and I pushed back the headphones and asked, “Do you dance?”
“What?”
“Do you dance?” I repeated.
“Oh yes, lots.”
“What style?” I enquired, but her answer was to state names which meant nothing to me.
“I don’t know what they are.”
“They encourage self-expression and displaying emotion through movement.”
“Oh, I thought that is what I do.” “Yes, you do, and YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION.” I told her about the young man who called me an inspiration and we chatted for a while. She made the comment about how we are so inhibited and it is wonderful to see someone who isn’t. She told me that she and a girlfriend had watched me previously and had said that at last someone is dancing on the beach. She is Czech (is there a ‘z’ in that?). “Can I see your eyes please?” she requested.
“Oh, sorry,” I said as I removed the mirrored sunglasses and she took off her sunglasses and said “hello,” in a little voice. Her name is ‘Marketa’. We chatted a while longer until she talked about dancing bringing us closer to God. I think that may have been the end of our beautiful, but short love affair. Back at the Chine a young dark skinned cockney woman asked me what the music was, told me that I was ‘some good dancer’ and then recommended that I listen to ‘House’ music and that I would love it. (Of course I don’t know what ‘House’ is.)

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