It's been a week filled with performing arts:
To kick off things off, Jon and I celebrated the Sabbath by attending Spielpalast Cabaret's scandalous show. (If you live in Burlington and don't know about this burlesque cabaret, click on the link. Buy tickets. It's running for two more weeks and it's not to be missed.) I laughed. I cried... I laughed harder. I felt inspired and empowered and so very happy to be in a community with an abundance of talented, passionate peeps. I also felt a little sad that I wasn't on stage. (I performed with the group a few years ago and loved every minute of it.) Or dancing at all. I realized that I miss dance. Terribly.
Then I learned that the next day (yesterday) the spring-semester dance classes at the Flynn were putting on a recital. (Many of these classes are taught the amazing Lois Trombley, director and co-creator of Spielpalast.) I pinged Jon and suggested we take the boys. This show wasn't scandalous. But it was awesome. There were middle-school girls (and a couple of boys) rocking what might have been their stage debuts. There was a tap-dancing troupe that included an 80-year-old guy and his daughter. There was a beautiful lyrical performed by Lois's Afro-jazz dancers (including my friend Melissa). And there were two engaged little boys on my lap--and Jon's. They clapped at the right times. Jules asked questions about the moves and the dancers - including "why aren't there more boys?" (Good question. My answer: I don't know but boys who dance are super cool.) After an hour, Jules was hungry and Kai had dropped a nasty bomb in his pants that needed attending. We bailed early... but Jon and I were psyched. Our little boys - just 4 and 2 - seem to appreciate the arts as much as we do.
It often seems that way... Jules shouts "Vivaldi" whenever we turn on any music that's instrumental. This evening, it was Miles Davis. Usually, our pre-dinner routine involves a kid-initiated dance party to Mos Def or Vampire Weekend. Tonight, Jules demanded that Kai and I make a band with him. He played the ukelele and sang - loudly. I was instructed to beat on two drums while blowing into a plastic flute designed to be used in the bathtub. Kai was assigned to a guitar shaped like a dog that plays itself but opted instead to sit in the middle of our assemble and quietly amuse himself with a picture book about animals.
But does this mean that Jules is "really into the arts" and could potentially benefit from an arts-focused elementary school curriculum in the near future? Or is my interest in exploring the Integrated Arts Academy for him just me wishing that I could have gone to such an elementary school? Am I projecting my interests onto him... a stage mom in the making? I mean the kid does love basketball. And baseball. And worms.
These were thoughts running through my head as I drove home from the Flynn show with foul-smelling Kai in the backseat. (Jules left with Jon - we'd come from our respective offices.) Kai and I were pointing out things we were seeing along the way and, as we passed Burlington High School with its football and baseball fields, I heard Kai say, "purple flowers." We had, after all, just passed a lilac tree.
Purple flowers? I repeated.
No, no, he corrected me sweetly, amused by how far off my interpretation was. He repeated himself.
Purple flowers? I said again. (What didn't I understand about the double no?)
No, no, no. Now Kai was full-out giggling. He repeated the two words again, then added one more: Catch.
Hmm... A sign? I'm projecting, huh?