1. To be revolutionary.
Let's face it. To be a belly dancer is political. (Don't believe me? Google "identity politics in belly dance", read Asharah's essay on white belly dancers, or simply research the history of gender in the Middle East). Whether you like it or not, you are making a statement when you perform. And, I suggest you be clear on what that statement is. Mine is clear most days. I belly dance because I want to express myself sensually and powerfully on my own terms, not the cultural sexist terms I have been taught. This is a transmutation of poison to power. And, it feels damn good. 

2. To create happy chemicals in your brain.
If I do not belly dance, I feel depressed. Trust me, I have tried to take a break, and BAM! within a few weeks I am a weepy mess. Research shows us over and over again that when we exercise a magnificent firework display of endorphins and dopamine fires away in our brains. For me, when I dance, it feels like the big bang. A whole new universe opens up in my mind. I feel like absolutely anything is possible. 

3. To stay sane, especially for mothers.
When you go to class or take some time to practice, this is officially your "me-time." Self care cannot be over-emphasized in today's manic-paced world. For mommy's, if you do not take care of yourself first, they will seriously suck the life out of you. They don't mean to, it is just programmed into their little brains to do it. So, take care of yourself so you don't become resentful of the most amazing job you will ever have on the planet.

4. To feel beautiful. 
I know this one is totally cliche. And, sort of obvious. But, I love it. All of us struggle with self acceptance, body image, and self worth issues sometimes because we live in an image-oriented culture that promotes narrowly defined and nearly unattainable ideals of beauty. So, we either succumb to the bullshit OR we learn that we have to define our own ideas of beauty and fight like she-tigers to feel it. I have had the honor of witnessing women transform. As they stand before the mirror sliding their hips into an infinity shape for the first time, they get this little glimmer of self-love in their eye. That is beautiful.

5. For the badass community.
I don't know about every single belly dance tribe, but I've met quite a few across the country now, and I think it is safe to say that primarily badass women are attracted to this art form. The weak, bitchy ones don't last long. Belly dance is for women who appreciate other women. It takes hard work, dedication, attention to detail, sensuality, passion, humility, confidence and grace (to name a few) to be a belly dancer. The women who are up for that are usually totally freaking cool to be around.  

6. For the badass costumes.
Do I really need to say anything else here?

7. To burn out old baggage.
Sort of like the happy chemicals and sanity reasons above, belly dance is great for burning out old sorrows. Louise Hay says we hold emotional pain in our bodies. The hips are supposed to be the storehouse of the deepest emotions. Belly dance gets in those hips and not only opens them, but strengthens them too. Because, as we have humbly learned, our suffering is also our strength. 

8. To heal from a divorce (or break-up). 
I cannot tell you how many divorcees I have had in my classes over the past 15 years. Let's just say I feel like a divorce dance therapist. When marriages end, people grieve the loss. Part of the healing process is acceptance and self love. Belly dance helps women get their groove back. It is sensual and sexy, but also dignified and powerful.  

9. Fun fitness that doesn't totally bore you out of your  mind.
I like fitness with a purpose, besides just to look good. Dance is the perfect combination. You get in shape while also learning a new skill and creating something beautiful you can offer others. Dance tells your ego-vain-monster to suck an apple.
 
10. To give your ass deep purpose.
All your life, your ass has been seeking its highest purpose. It has patiently hung out back there, full of some of the strongest muscle in your body and coated with juicy fats that can make a grown man cry. But I dare ask, what have you really been doing with it? I mean really-really? When we belly dance, we squeeze the glutes to make the hips move. Yes, it really should be called the butt dance, but whatever. When I discovered the Suhaila Salimpour technique, my glutes wept butt tears of joy. Yours will too!


By: Kandice Grossman
www.kandiceg.com

The DragonFlies Dance Company, of Moon Belly Dance Studio, is excited to offer a new collaborative choreographic work that explores cultural and spiritual meanings associated with female ghosts. The "ghost dance" is a theatrical fusion of contemporary modern dance with foundations in belly dance and feminist perspectives. 

Three dancers of The DragonFlies Company, Kandice Grossman, Nicole Beasley and Jessie Holdinghaus, each represent a female ghost character. The female ghost is a culturally fascinating figure. In part, because her role as an ephemeral character is not too far of a leap from her expected passive, submissive feminine real-life role. Her subtle, intriguing haunting is a mere extension of this expected gendered behavior. The other intriguing aspect is that the ghost implies a soul that is trapped. She cannot seem to find her way out of this life and into the next. Our interpretation of the female ghost is one who is trapped by her earthly, oppressive gender roles even in death. In fact, it is resentment that killed her.

The central theme of each ghost is motherhood. Each ghosts' submission to essentialist ideas about woman's nature as nurturer, victim and neurotic all play themselves out in this 17 minute choreography. The characters, costumes and choreographies were co-created by each dancer. Jessie plays the overburdened, over nurturing mother who cannot let go of the excessive, hyperactive attachment to giving - to the point that it kills her and she haunts all those she gave to, both begging them to love her and also hating them for taking. Nicole plays the victim mother who is lost and disoriented in her passivity - a true victim of gender violence in waking life, her haunt is forever disoriented and grieving - unable to accept misogyny and the loss of her child. Kandice plays the unfit daughter who's resentment toward her own mother leads to heroin addiction and ultimately death - her haunting is a constant oscillation between outbursts of child-like anger and euphoric highs, scaring everyone she haunts in an effort to get them to also try to escape reality.

Still in the shadow of the lunar eclipse and fast approaching Hallow's Eve, we are thrilled to present this eery work on the foggy banks of the Missouri River at Cooper's Landing on October 11th at 6pm. 

In addition to the ghost dance, we will present two other 15 minute choreographies: Warrior & Duality, both include newer and older choreographies and includes student dancers from the Moon Belly Dance Ensemble. 

Artistic Director: Kandice Grossman