Let The Rainbow Dance

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Pixabay Images

Let The Rainbow Dance!

“We all live in a rainbow of chaos” Paul Cezanne

When l was between the ages of twenty to thirty l used to dance – l don’t mean professionally and l certainly don’t mean flouncy dresses and top hat and tie ballroom stuff. No, l mean Dirty Dancing, grind it out on the nightclub dance floor! That’s the style – when if not the fandango or tripping the light fantastic, but the stuff that Fame would have been proud of – in your face, foot stomping and feeling the groove of the night.

I personally believe that the scene of rave, house and jungle and a host of other intermingling rhythms were designs with me and only me in mind! They were MY music; they were my years of young!

Back then l didn’t need coaxing onto the floor, nor did l need to be plied with drink or high on drugs – l danced from midnight to dawn in my own world and to my own delights! Not overly social, didn’t need to be, for dancing was my ‘chill out downtime’, l could come along, and switch off to everything, everyone and with my eyes shut just let go and boogie down!

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Music became my air; it filled me with a joyousness – the scene was so just right for me at that time, it was the eighties breaking into the nineties and anyone who knows me, knows l am always promoting then for the bestest beats of all time – YES folks ALL TIME!
Working as hard as l did for up to fifteen hours a day as l was, l needed to ‘come down’ and the sex, drugs and rock and roll scene was the way to achieve it – l could just be me, no constant pressures to conform – to pray to the mechanics of societies conventionality – there l was who l wanted to be.

At that time in my life, whilst l was not in the slightest bit aware of the spectrum or my role within autism – l was already being considered a potential for sectioning by my family – my Father was a firm believer in the school of thought that his Son was not right! My absolute love or addiction as he classed it to MY music was in his head just confirmation that l was living up to his fears – that l was constantly high on drugs, drunk every night and quite possibly a practising homosexual and that was only because of the way l dressed! Hey, it was the eighties and l was in fashion retail – it was as it was! But dang it was vibrant and oh so alive!

I guess also, because l was quite shy, and l did hang with the guys from the shop and they were ‘on the wild side of gaiety’- but l loved their company and they were wicked dancers [learned many of my moves from them] – so in my Father’s eyes – l had to be ‘one’ too! Of course he was a homophobe – everyone was “Bloody Gay!” So there was never any winning – but hey ho, it is what it was!

They couldn’t section me, they had no proof that l was ‘mad as a hatter’, just that l was ‘colourful’ and at times ‘horribly inappropriate’, and that my ‘sense of humour was a little – well you know weird!’ BUT, it was the fricking eighties – that is how we all survived! You ask someone from the sixties or the seventies and they will all come back with the same “Cool man, this was our time!”

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But l digressed, the musical fusions of the time filled me with something else other than the beat – at the time l never thought much of it and yet when l told the others they too alongside my Father simply thought l was tripping out! That maybe l had had one coke too many and l was just snorting my own way! But as l said l didn’t do drugs, l was naturally high on something else!

Something happened to me when l danced and was zoning out, almost like l was asleep at the same time but not, perhaps inner mind hallucinations best describes the experiences? Describing the sensation mm, well l am guessing it’s normal for people to listen to a beat and hear it again in their heads? That’s normal right? But how many times do they hear that piece of music in their heads and what else does it do in there? Does it dance inside their brains?

Does it go over, and over, and over, and over, and over and … you get the gist? Does it do that to everyone, so that in truth, you have the physical beat on-going, but inside your mind you have traces of the echo and traces of those echoes, but additionally breaks down and travels at different speeds and pace styles? Is that normal? That actual troupes danced their way up and down the inside of your skull or that you can stop the music at a specific point, slow it down, break it into separate pieces whilst the tune is still playing behind the broken one?

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You see l don’t know because as of yet l am still to meet someone with the same gift. My music SPOKE to me in so many different vibrantly exciting ways it was unreal! When l tried to explain the feelings to my friends they just looked at me like l was still spaced out! So l knew l was onto something!

At the time, in the fashion industry as l was, with the eighties at large there was only one thing to do with this flair for breaking music and that was tie it into my business! So a new enterprise was born ‘Nightclub Fashion Dance!’ I was never trained as a choreographer but l loved to dance, thrived on music and could mentally visualise every step, jump, slide, bounce and hop or spin needed to make everything the success it became.

Lighting, dance, the fashion, the models themselves, the colours and choosing the right retailers made it all totally happen – and all because l could do with music in my head then what keyboards can do now!

With a weakness for anything energetic, pulsating, vibrating and effervescent l could design, create and pull together the most awesome displays of kaleidoscopic fashion jazz! It was the right time for that kind of free spirited fabric coated skin flaunting! The eighties were a time of bejewelled rawness – so much awakened from that time and came to life on its own merits! It was a good time, and a great time for the gift l had.

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Music was in my life this way till the late eighties, and so by the early nineties l was involved in a different journey with music purely as a companion, a background love. But the story is far from over …

Looking back, l think the ‘gift’ as l classed it, was a form of Temple Grandin’s Thinking in Pictures and from what l have read over the years, it slots into that fit – and of course everyone thinks differently anyway – it was after all just another thinking style!
As a business it came to an end late eighties, but as is always my way, l evolved again and moved on …

Music has always been part and parcel of my life, however as l have aged and especially in the last ten years or so, l have noticed significant changes to how the gift works and sadly these days it is more of a problem than it used to be. Once the gift was a useful tool or brain application l had at my disposal, and after the fashion dance business, l was able to utilise it further in my career path with nightclub advertising and marketing or just writing designs.

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You cannot live life to the fullest, surrounded by colourful sparkles all day every day, burning the candle at both ends in a world where you pretend to be someone else without there being some kind of retribution meted out to you! That came in the form of a horrendously long and painful mental breakdown – music took a backseat – because in truth as much as l liked to listen to it loud and thumping – my brain reacted violently to it and caused me to become over stimulated! So for some years l stopped listening to music as l once did as it turned nasty inside my mind!

I love listening to music still, but limit myself – and do not play it every day as l once did – for the gift is still there, but different – more impactive and troubled – more energetic and stimulating – the voice speaks to me differently now,

Now …

…now it’s untamed, very wild, bursting with enriched enthusiasm and it acts like an escaped ferocity looking to unleash its overgrown luxuriousness – for now, yes now it dances with an attitude – and as they say ‘Once a dancer always a dancer!’

For now – now the gift is different, now the pictures really move!

Playing music can be deadly, oh l still love to become totally swept off my feet in the natural high, to feel that over stimulation seduce my inner core and send a thousand million tingles racing through my veins – Yes – what can you not love about that? But can you also love what that means … as my brain receives a trillion electrodes pulsating from each and every nerve ending and produces vast works of art, numbers, words, colours, shapes, smells, tastes, scents, senses – for everything explodes – everything vibrates, everything jumps and slides, and bounces and hops – everything, everything!

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I love music, and l love the fact that in my head, everything is done, everything can be done, everything is there, everything, anything can be created, designed, let loose – but sadly, to do so frivolously l feel – the over stimulations exhaust me – the gift is lovely, but must be treated like a caged beast – and only occasionally now do l let the rainbow dance.

Always remember this..
Gardeners do it on their knees!
Australians do it Down Under
Skiers do it with both hands
And …
Aspies do it in their heads….
….over, and over, and over again!

So what’s your poison?

These posts are my views on my autism/Asperger’s, they may not be everyone else’s who is on the spectrum.

n27

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