David Paris Acro Dance

Out of 50 trials, 90 percent of participants experienced a significant reduction in their anxiety, in under 15 minutes. Try it for free (and then review please!) or check out sessions on Youtube (https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL0UfYVSbzO8keiIX-Wz5GatqrdiF-Vbsa&si=FiZ7Pj3iyS1LU9u6). Or message me for a free session. It involves mindfulness, yes, a bit of life coaching, and yes, movement. It may revolutionize your life. It has mine. Free for next two days on Kindle https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0G1TTG1DJ/

Anxiety Transformation: 5 Steps Towards Inner Peace Anxiety Transformation introduces a powerful method for reclaiming inner peace in five steps by: 1. Articulating what's bothering you 2. Considering the hidden question beneath your worry 3. Expressing the anxiety through a simple movement 4. Embracing an empowering belief 5. Establishing an acti...

I am doing my first David Peck questions show in my studio for this Sunday at 6 PM.
It will be interactive experience with some traditional acrobatic shows. There are two seats left. If you're interested, private message me please.

Dave Paris
I was challenged yesterday teaching latin dance at the senior center in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Usually, seniors come up to the dance floor, one at a time, and after 15 minutes, it’s a party, as I hop from one woman to another, grooving to my favorite salsa songs. But on this day, no one came to join me. Maybe it was haircut, maybe the novelty of subbing had worn off. Maybe the new soap I was using wasn’t as effective as I thought, a casualty to living alone. I am not sure what it was, but I was alone dancing by myself, reminding painfully of my 90’s experiences at the Copacabana.
Then, Carmen, who was the most abled of the woman at the senior center, brought her friend, who was the most physically challenged, to the dance floor. Carmen asked if we could do chair dancing. I was up for the challenge. We started out with the feet, and then for variety, did different body isolations, a throwback to taking Frankie Martinez’s movement classes two decades ago. Carmen was very clear that she didn’t want any sad songs, and so I invoked Pupy, my Afro-Cuban’s teachers spirit, and gestured sharply to the sky and below, ridding myself of those energies I wanted to burn. Fresh off Angela Butch’s spiritual ceremony last Sunday, I let go what wasn’t useful, and manifested what was.

The class was a triangle of energy, all of us feeling the power of moving together, with spiritual gestures, with what collectively our bodies could still do, in the time we had left. I was reminded of when I was in the hospital, and I couldn’t do anything without the assistance of four people, and it was only then that I finally could appreciate humanity, as I was met in my time of need with the love and care of a nurturing community. I was able to pass this forward yesterday, and although we never got out of chair, I had never been moved so much in an hour of dance before. My physically challenged elder student smiled 10 times in the hour, and felt a groove that was unearthed by the music, by Carmen, by myself, and 20 years of dance education. We were all grateful for all of the elements that brought us together and channelled a unique energy that happens when we collectively move ceremoniously to celestial sounds. Most of us do not maintain the traditional dance of our ancestors, but the cathartic possibility of harnessing that energy are always one collective intentional gesture away.

For three years, I went to the annual Floyd Chisholm memorial hustle content, to pay tribute to a dance and acrobatic pioneer and legend, to be in the presence of her partner Nelly Cotto, to be in the birth place of Latin hustle, and celebrate with a community that paved the way for modern partner dancing, acrobatic theatrics, and soulful expression. Last Saturday, I was feeling a little more competent in my hustle dance skills after 20 plus years of lessons and practice, and I entered the competition with my friend Josette Penzel. I told her that if we were lucky, we might come in eighth place, based on what I saw the first year, but placement was not the point. We were there to have fun, dance, and connect. She was 100% down.

I started the morning blasting Donna Summer at my apartment, a pleasure that was not allowed in my Brooklyn childhood, as dance did not exist for me, and vulnerability in any form made you a target or ridicule or worse. I embodied the beautiful expressive arms of hustle dancers, big bold movements, and an energized body. I was ready.

I went to 149th and 3rd ave on the 2 train, and saw the old and new of the South Bronx. A sign outside a house posted a yoga invitation. Curious, I looked over to read, “Do Yoga! Bend over and pick up your dog sh*t!” So Bronx.

When I arrived at the park, I immediately reached out to Nelly and Kenny, who were my first acrobatic inspirations when they danced with Eddie Torres as featured acrobats. I rested on the side as Josette warmed up with another veteran hustle competitor, who subsequently tried to enlist her to dance with him instead of me. I felt honored! The dance was called the hustle. Franc Reyes was there, and wrote a whole book on this phenomenon.

For the competition, we danced three songs in a row for the first round. Billy Marti, another inspiration for me, was one of the judges and had previously told me that as a competitor and a judge, he wanted to see latin movement in latin hustle. So, after being tired after one minute of dancing, I stood side-by-side with Josette, initiating in place hip movements, which the crowd loved, but served an important dual purpose.

We made it to the second round, gave it our all, and won first place. Upon receiving the trophy, I looked up to the sky to thank Floyd for paving the way for this experience. Hustle, latin movement, and partner acrobatics changed my life. Recently, I got to thank my doctor who saved me when I was sick with Covid. This experience was similar.

On the subway ride home, I had a tough choice. I was very tired, and the only available seat was next to a guy that was flicking a pocket knife, perhaps innocuously, but perhaps ready to commit terror. With a trophy in one hand, and my massage gun in the other, I sat down next to him, wondering who was making the bigger spectacle. My eyes monitored his every move in case he was gonna flip out, as any New Yorker can tell you is necessary, ready to defend ourselves, as we commit ourselves to our craft, bask in our accomplishments, and rest in who we are.

At the beginning of my acrobatic dance class, I ask everyone to share their name and anything we should know. It’s an umbrella question meant to address the range of needs of everyone. A few students mentioned their physical ailments. Some shared what they wanted to learn in class. One student was distracted by my shirt. Not the guacamole stain, but the text, which said, “No Cheese Down That Tunnel” I first heard the phrase when a coach at a Landmark meeting (worth looking up Landmark if you don’t know) tell a student who was immersed in blaming the world, that there’s no cheese down that tunnel. Brilliant! It immediately reminded me of my bike ride to class, in which a clueless biker turned suddenly without looking, crashed into me, and had some terse words for my ears. Well, if you know me, I don’t mind being wrong, I don’t mind being in pain, but if you want me to go from 0-10, blame me for something I am not at fault for. While I appreciated the material for a good therapy session, I was stunned in the moment and it took me a bit of time before I was able to catch up to him. But I did. And his first words were that I should have made a sound if I was passing him. A crowd gathered, curious as to what I was going to do. There was no cheese down this tunnel. I explained to him that he needs to look before turning and he caused me pain. He gave me a forced apology, more due to the size of my body and my steel gaze, but I accepted his apology and headed to class, biking slowly to recuperate my serenity. Then the same biker passed me by a few blocks later, rang his bell, and said, “That’s what you should have of done.”
I shared this story in class, as that is what I wanted others to know, before we started, giving me a little space in case I was unduly loud or aggressive. We went late because opening circle became a bit of story time for a few people. One student shared that he was kicked out of landmark, which is odd because they’ll do just about anything to keep you there. And I realized sharing is a tunnel that has cheese waiting for me, and others, at the end of the maze.

After 10 years of wanting to do this loop to loop move, which is normally done on roller skaters, I finally got to perform it with Sam Sweet from Cosmic Fit Club in July. It was an Nimbo in Greenwood Cementary with Bindlestiff Circus. Next....just wait..