is not voluntary. First I feel it in the shoulders, then move one up, the other down, or back and forth, as the pace. Then they sit on the hip, down your legs, up to the arms and runs through the fingers. As I recall, when I was little shocked that my aunt put me out to dance, or rather dragged me to dance. I do not know if it occurred suddenly, on a grounder, or if it was a gradual thing. The thing is that now I can not move with the happy music.
I think it's good to dance because it is happy or sad, alone, together or just because. I like to dance alone, to jump at my ease the pace of hippy hippy shake, mmm ba duba dop bop, a-well-a bird bird bird b-bird's the word, shovel blade dove dove dove, yo! pump the jam pump it up pump it up, pipipí, ajotajó, wooly Booly, how rich the mambo mambo, Who put the bump in the bompbopopbomp'a, and other rolas that, for being so bad, would mourn the National Symphony therefore excludes the tasteful, but the dance.
Spontaneous Organization
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