Circle Thanks

Hoop Dancer DeGrazia

Today, I was gifted this stunning, limited-edition print by DeGrazia. I can hardly wait to get home and frame it... it so wonderfully captures the magic of the hoop. The DeGrazia Gallery was home to Ted and his wife Marion. Both created exceptional art within the walls of the studio. Yet, what stuck me as most precious was the love and creativity that they put into the grounds in which they lived. Touring the place is like walking in a desert painting, alive with color and the native american spirit of serving the whole.

I was reminded how the hoop is a symbol for that wholeness... of unity... this weekend. Our Thanksgiving celebration was at Daniel's uncle's home in Scottsdale. This was my first time meeting this side of the family. They were all so warm and welcoming. One of the highlights of the evening was after dinner. I had a hoop in the rental car. Upon the urging of the group, we brought it out for a demonstration. I made sure that everyone else had a chance in the hoop first. Daniel's younger brother, Nathan, is a good sport. He jumped in first... followed by Daniel... his stepmom... then aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was immediate joy bursting from the seams! I gazed around in awe as the entire family was bathed in contagious laughter. And I remembered why this simple service that I offer is so potent.

The Circle.
It brings people together.
By its very nature, it unites.
And for its simple teachings, I am grateful.

When I was searching for an image of the above print to share with you, I ran across this poem. I hope you enjoy it as I did. And I hope that you find yourself in a circle dance of your own, sometime soon.

Hoop Dancer
(Based on the painting by Ted De Grazia)

A stream of light flows in circles around me.
Hoops and halos surround my body,
as I reach through each center with a dancing limb.
My pointed foot draws a blue circle
while my outstretched hand
paints a swirl of bright yellow.

I am the hoop dancer.
I carve a story into the night air,
as I move in rhythms,
that make my heart pump stronger
and my skin tremble with pure knowledge.

The lyrical notes fall all at once
from the dark, speckled sky.
They come crashing in waves,
and jingle at my beaded, fringed ankles.
Movement creates a limitless space between
my feet and the dry, crumbled earth beneath.
The hoops are as light as the air itself.
They raise me up and I am in flight.
Each circle is a galaxy –
each waving feather in my headdress
creates the stardust that lights up the world around me
so that my body is the bonfire –
aglow with a story.
It is the narrative of the hoop.

Cristina M. R. Norcross
August 2, 2006