Fifteen full heads of hair, spinning and jumping and traveling around the stage attached to our dancing bodies, adding to the movement we make to the rhythm. The rhythm, intense and innate, all percepted different in our minds, minds of fifteen teenagers that guide our bodies and heads, full of hair. Hair that is like a zoo animal, caged in, ready to be let out. Wishing, wanting, waiting for the moment we can take the bun out.
Tessa’s voluminous, vermilion hair stands out from the rest. She leads the pack as we graciously grand jete through the air resisting us. Our hair still stiffly tied up, ready to be let down. We hit our ending pose and scuttle of stage, back to the dressing room we go to let down our hurting hair. It falls behind us finally feeling free. As I comb my shiny, soft hair, it lays there like a dog whose belly is being rubbed. And I relax and reflect on what our fifteen heads full of hair put together just did.