fame

i watched fame, the movie. it was both less and more this time around. all in terms of choreography, acting, singing, etc etc etc... i think i was thinking about it too much... too busy evaluating and not letting me sit back and just let it sink in and listen.

I eventually did, towards the end. Ano nga ba ang fame, para sa akin? Why do I beat myself up over flamenco day in and day out?

Easy enough to answer: There's a connection, a spark, a flame. I'm me, when I'm twisting my hands up in the air and breathing for the compas.

Pero fame? I've no delusions. It's hard to climb all the way up and see it plummet down. I mean, look at Clara, my gad. That's a heartbreaker. Flamenco is so strict, so obsessed with PURO with blood with your history. I don't know how to get in. I don't want to delude myself, because I know I don't stand a chance to even get to that top, tight ring.

I wonder if I would dance any better if my nationality, my blood, weren't a factor. If fame and glory were real and tangible, would I work harder, be more intricately into it than I am now?

All of a sudden, I don't know what the hell I'm doing.