Tuesday, January 12, 2010
One summer a few years ago, my husband and I were wandering in and out of galleries in Provincetown, Massachusetts. As we drifted from one sculpture to another, a vibrant flamenco guitar played in the background. Curious, we inquired and learned that the musician was a Canadian musician named Jesse Cook. His CD was for sale in the gallery. We bought it, and from that moment became avid fans. One cannot sit still listening to him, and I often find myself dancing around the house as I perform the most mundane of tasks.
When the time came for me to suggest ideas for the cover of my first novel, Dancing on Sunday Afternoons, I recommended that the artist listen to Jesse to understand the spirit and energy of my heroine, Giulia Serafini.
Fast forward to the launch of Dancing. My husband, who does not know the meaning of the word "impossible," seized upon the idea of inviting Jesse and his band to perform at my party. It took him nearly a year. But one Sunday afternoon in March, the celebration that he had envisioned one night listening to Jesse came together in one of the most memorable days of my life: family and friends filling a theater we had rented; dancers from a local conservatory interpreting the rhythms and melodies we had come to love; Jesse Cook and his musicians expressing the joy and exuberance of his compositions; and me, alone in the spotlight with only my words to share.
As I write this tonight, I am listening to Jesse and dancing.
What makes you dance?