“The dance has actually evolved over time,” says Scott. “It was the hands first, for sure. I’d kind of move them very quickly, like vibration. Then, as I got more comfortable with it, I started jumping up and down, and then I started twirling.”
CAN YOU FIND THE SUN GOD?
28 |
DECEMBER 2015
As he listened to EDM on his iPod Shuffle, the river began to take on a new meaning. He became aware of what he calls “synchronicity,” a force that he credits for leading him to San Marcos. It’s also the same force he credits for driving him out. Scott began experimenting with dubstep, techno and house music, but no other sub-genre gave him the same kind of outof-body experience that trance music did. The dancing that he’s famous for began unassumingly, just a lighthearted release brought on by the beauty of San Marcos and the rhythm of trance music. But Scott soon began to feel like something more spiritual was happening, as if some sort of divine force were overtaking him. What started as a pulsing hand motion toward the sun soon evolved into what my ballet instructors would call “working the space,” i.e. uncontrollable twirling. “The dance has actually evolved over time,” says Scott. “It was the hands first, for sure. I’d kind of move them very quickly, like vibration. Then, as I got more comfortable with it, I started jumping up and down, and then I started twirling.” A spiritual man, Scott believes he’s inspired by a higher power, although he’s reluctant to call that power “God.” He compares himself to the whirling Sufi Dervishes, religious dancers whose trademark spinning routine is considered to be a form of physical meditation. I imagine his white, shoulder-length hair tucked into a lampshade-shaped sikke, and his pooka-shell necklace peeping out from his destegul. It’s a fun thing to imagine. “Rumi, the poet and mystic, really speaks to me,” says Scott.