Ok. Let me begin by expressing my supreme love of the art of interpretive dance. Every now and again, I get a divine inspiration and there is but one medium of expression. It can't be stopped. It is spontaneous and wild and I think that ultimately, if you don't love it, you can learn to appreciate it. I think it will grow on Doris, despite her scrunched nose at the site of it. Otherwise, I feel as though my dance interpretation of the land of Scot has gone off like gang busters. I concur. ("Sweet," says Cait.)
Monday was a longish day, although fairly enjoyable. We began by taking the bus to the Writer's museum. It was in a great old house in a close along the Royal Mile. I was really fascinated by all the art in the building as well as the history there. We followed that with a trip to the museum of childhood. I embraced this idea by reclaiming my youth. I put my hair in pigtails and spent about half an hour making a cootie catcher in the "Make your own art room". Ultimately, we left and walked around forever and I started feeling sick and had to head back.
When I returned, I hit my second wind and I suddenly couldn't contain myself. My Ipod hit "Levon" by Elton John and I suddenly had an explosion of desire to bust a sweet move. I probably danced for a good twenty minutes. And by "danced," I mean flailed around in the dark. It was pretty much amazing, although I did have a nervous moment where I was afraid that there may be cameras in my room.
Today was kind of long. I wasn't feeling so great but I figured it would pass, so I hopped the train to Glasgow with the rest of the class. Photography is apparently not allowed in the Edinburgh train station, which we learned the hard way. I must say, at the risk of offending someone, I think that cop was a total jackass. Love, Hayley.
Glasgow is cool, but much less picturesque than Edinburgh. We visited the Art School, which I loved, and to which Dr. Rushing told me I looked like I belonged, which I absolutely took as a compliment. We followed it with a trip to a neat tea room and I had an amazing mocha and a croissant. It was lovely. By then, though, I was completely exhausted and had to stop. We headed back on the train and then, of course, we got lost on the city bus. Navigation be damned! I was sitting down though, so I minded way less than I probably should have. We finally got back and Cait and Beth partook of moldy sandwiches and we had a hilarious conversation. It may just be delirium, but I'm ok with that.
Tomorrow is Robbie Burns. Rock on!
Love y'all! xoxoxo
Haylezzzz
P.S. Ketchup flavored chips = rockin'!!
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2 comments:
Hi Sweetie,
I must admit I'm a little flat-footed myself when it comes to Fart Whistles and Cootie Catchers ??? and must say that may be why you're feeling a little "off-your-feed? But (as you know) I'm all about interpretive dance, AND Elton. Stay away from the moldy sandwiches tho, cause I imagine they could give you Fart Whistles for sure...
love you MOM
further proof of why i love your mom.
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