Mermaid Galene
04-15-2014, 12:31 PM
We all have mentors and inspirers in our lives. Sometimes a chance encounter with a kindred spirit can open our eyes to wonders we’d never previously seen. Sometimes we wake up to a world of new possibility because of a gentle nudge from someone so small that the power of their single gesture sweeps us upward in a tidal wave of awe and delight.
That is who Galene, my champion seahorse dancer, was to me.
When I got my first seahorses, I was well prepared. With specific artistic intent, I had thoroughly researched their species, their needs, and their documented behaviors. My goldfish made music, so I figured with really precise training, seahorses might be able to, as well. But because I was so busy with other projects, it was nearly a year after their arrival before I found the time to invite my ponies to music school.
I decided to begin their education by simply playing music for them. There had been a lot of goldfish music wafting around our house, but I wasn’t sure how well the seahorses could hear the stereo based at the opposite end of our living room. So I bought an ipod speaker system just for my seahorses, and I placed it right by their tank. One morning, ready to begin their musical conditioning, I picked out a gentle but rhythmic tune, turned on their ipod, and walked away to do other things. A few moments later, I turned my attention back to the ponies. And what I saw literally made me gasp with surprise and joy.
Galene, my lovely, creamy white female Mustang seahorse, was dancing in time to the music. And as I watched, I realized she was not only dancing. She was choreographing! When the pitch of the music fell, she curled her tail and sank lower in the water. When it rose, she stretched out and shot upward. When a smooth passage rolled out, she glided gracefully to the side. When the beat got snappy, she flicked her limber, prehensile tail to the beat.
Nature gave seahorses a dancer’s anatomy and preinstalled a repertoire of dancelike movements in their behavioral portfolio. They dance with specific, ritualized motion during courtship and greeting displays. But before Galene, no one knew that seahorses could or would dance to music. No one knew seahorses were not merely movers, but motion artists. That revelation changed me. In that moment when I first saw Galene dance for musical joy, my understanding of the beautiful intricacies of animal life on this planet, and the hidden bonds we humans share with all creatures, deepened. Really deep. Like the sea.
During Galene’s very first dance concert, I had the presence of mind to grab my video camera, start the music again, and film her impromptu performance (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtU7qkT1f-Q). I’m so glad I did. Thanks to the Internet, thousands of other people around the world have witnessed her artistry.
Over time, Galene’s language of dance (as well as that of her tankmates) became commonplace in my life. But I never took it for granted. Every time Galene danced when I played the ipod; or sang for her just beyond the walls of her glass home; or danced myself, like a giddy human fool, in front of her tank — I received her offering as a precious gift.
I lost my darling Galene last night. She died after a very sudden parasitic illness. I am stunned and shredded and aching in the face of the realization that this unlikely ballerina — this google-eyed, monkey-tailed, galloping, elegant sea sprite with the pink pinstripes — will never physically dance for me again.
But she dances inside me. And I dance with the waters. In her memory, her love, and her name. My eyes are stinging with salt, but they’re open.
I am now Mermaid Galene.
Thank you, Seahorse Galene. May Mermaid Galene make someone’s heart dance. My heart will always dance with the unfathomable joy of you.
20077
That is who Galene, my champion seahorse dancer, was to me.
When I got my first seahorses, I was well prepared. With specific artistic intent, I had thoroughly researched their species, their needs, and their documented behaviors. My goldfish made music, so I figured with really precise training, seahorses might be able to, as well. But because I was so busy with other projects, it was nearly a year after their arrival before I found the time to invite my ponies to music school.
I decided to begin their education by simply playing music for them. There had been a lot of goldfish music wafting around our house, but I wasn’t sure how well the seahorses could hear the stereo based at the opposite end of our living room. So I bought an ipod speaker system just for my seahorses, and I placed it right by their tank. One morning, ready to begin their musical conditioning, I picked out a gentle but rhythmic tune, turned on their ipod, and walked away to do other things. A few moments later, I turned my attention back to the ponies. And what I saw literally made me gasp with surprise and joy.
Galene, my lovely, creamy white female Mustang seahorse, was dancing in time to the music. And as I watched, I realized she was not only dancing. She was choreographing! When the pitch of the music fell, she curled her tail and sank lower in the water. When it rose, she stretched out and shot upward. When a smooth passage rolled out, she glided gracefully to the side. When the beat got snappy, she flicked her limber, prehensile tail to the beat.
Nature gave seahorses a dancer’s anatomy and preinstalled a repertoire of dancelike movements in their behavioral portfolio. They dance with specific, ritualized motion during courtship and greeting displays. But before Galene, no one knew that seahorses could or would dance to music. No one knew seahorses were not merely movers, but motion artists. That revelation changed me. In that moment when I first saw Galene dance for musical joy, my understanding of the beautiful intricacies of animal life on this planet, and the hidden bonds we humans share with all creatures, deepened. Really deep. Like the sea.
During Galene’s very first dance concert, I had the presence of mind to grab my video camera, start the music again, and film her impromptu performance (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtU7qkT1f-Q). I’m so glad I did. Thanks to the Internet, thousands of other people around the world have witnessed her artistry.
Over time, Galene’s language of dance (as well as that of her tankmates) became commonplace in my life. But I never took it for granted. Every time Galene danced when I played the ipod; or sang for her just beyond the walls of her glass home; or danced myself, like a giddy human fool, in front of her tank — I received her offering as a precious gift.
I lost my darling Galene last night. She died after a very sudden parasitic illness. I am stunned and shredded and aching in the face of the realization that this unlikely ballerina — this google-eyed, monkey-tailed, galloping, elegant sea sprite with the pink pinstripes — will never physically dance for me again.
But she dances inside me. And I dance with the waters. In her memory, her love, and her name. My eyes are stinging with salt, but they’re open.
I am now Mermaid Galene.
Thank you, Seahorse Galene. May Mermaid Galene make someone’s heart dance. My heart will always dance with the unfathomable joy of you.
20077