I just came back from a West African dance camp where I danced all week long. I have a love hate relationship with West African dance. It is beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, and when I am dancing to movements I have already learned I feel like I am flying. But constantly learning new moves while my whole body feels like one entire left foot, and my brain a soggy loaf of bread, I wonder what I am doing here. That is how I felt all week long. Thankfully on the last day, class wasn’t too difficult, and although I didn’t feel like I was flying, I reminded myself that I was there to gather more feathers for my wings.

The two pictures on the outside are outfits that I was trying on. I went with an agenda to buy one outfit I could perform in. I went with the one on the right. The middle picture was my little vendor station, I made a bunch of skirts hoping they would sell well to help pay off camp.

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