Why SALT?

A very close friend of mine, an avid reader, whose judgement I value above many others, wanted to hear about this blog. So, I started at the beginning. 

I started at the choosing of the name "SALT" and my intentions behind it. The idea that salt is so poetically and profoundly related to the subject of dancer health. Because health for dancers is made up of more than cross-training and injury prevention alone. It's made up of a complex need to be nourished. To be nourished as an artist, and to be nourished as a human being. That's why several posts are dedicated to food. Good food. With a little salt. 

Dancer health is also made up of an unusual number of tears. And, cliched so it may be, an extraordinary amount of sweat. It's hard work. It's physically demanding, and emotionally demanding. And that's why a huge number of posts are dedicated to the complex emotional health of dancers, and a number of them also dedicated to exercise. 

I think a vital part of dancer health, that is never discussed, is the need for vacation and escape. The need for experience outside of our profession. When you've been working towards the same thing since you were five years old and "I want to be a ballerina" was an admired and childish notion, it is overwhelmingly easy to get sucked in. To forget there is a whole world outside of dance. A world you won't get to explore on the company tour. And that's why some of SALT's posts are dedicated to travel, movement, and experience outside the realm we work in. 

In my introductory post, I attempted to define these goals. And in some ways, I succeeded. But the part that my very close and trusted friend did not understand despite having read this blog, was why it isn't called "Summer Health for Dancers." It's called "SALT." 

And my friend, the avid reader, the intellectual with whom I almost always agree couldn't understand why. 

And at the beginning, I'm not sure I would have been able to answer her. Now, I know the answer. 

It goes something like this. 

When I leave the studio, it's late. It's dark. It's usually cold (although this time of year it's just the opposite.) And somehow I can't stand the idea of having to walk all the way home in the cold unless I put my headphones in. 

And with the headphones, something strange happens. 

I start walking.

I'm not the only one who would react this way. There are entire magazine articles dedicated to what songs you should listen to on your morning run, what songs to play at your party so people will get up and dance. 

So here's the thing, here's the thing that's amazing and incredibly profound despite its simplicity: we seem to all have this in common. As human beings, we share this intrinsic physical desire to move to music. 

Just like salt, which is essential to the functioning of the human body. It's a physical need. It's built in to us.