Turning the Unfamiliar into Something Familiar
There are certain songs that make me want to move before I even think about dancing. Mariana’s “Kol Ma Bashoufak” is one of those songs for me.
There is something incredibly cinematic about it. The melody carries a softness that feels almost nostalgic, even when I cannot fully explain what I am feeling. There is longing in it, but not the kind that feels heavy. It feels delicate, intimate, and a little mysterious — like seeing someone from across the room and suddenly becoming aware of your own heartbeat.
That feeling is what inspired this dance.
When I dance to this song, I find myself paying a lot of attention to the hips. Hip movements are such a fundamental part of belly dance, but I never think of them as “just basics.” The more I dance, the more I realize how much expression can exist inside a movement that looks simple.
A hip drop, a hip lift, a circle, a figure eight, a subtle shift of weight — each one can have a completely different feeling depending on the timing, the texture, the direction, and the music. The movement itself may be familiar, but the way it feels in the body can always change.
That is also why I love putting fundamental hip movements into combinations.
Repeating the same movement over and over can sometimes make the body feel disconnected from the music. But when those movements become part of a combo, something changes. A simple hip movement suddenly has somewhere to go. It connects with a transition, answers a rhythm, creates a pause, or becomes the accent of a musical phrase.
The body starts listening differently.
Instead of thinking about each individual movement, I can begin to feel the relationship between them. One movement leads naturally into another. The hips follow the rhythm, the upper body responds, and the entire combination starts to breathe with the music.
For me, this is where the beauty of repetition really begins.
At first, a movement may feel unfamiliar. I might have to think about where the weight is, how much energy to use, how to keep the movement clean, or how to make it feel effortless. But after repeating it enough times, something changes. The body remembers what the mind once had to think about.
And then, the movement becomes familiar.
Not boring. Not automatic.
Familiar in the best possible way — like returning to a place you have been before and suddenly noticing something you never saw the first time.
I think emotions can work in much the same way.
Sometimes we experience a feeling before we know what to call it. A certain person appears, a certain song starts playing, or a certain moment stays in our mind a little longer than it should. At first, the feeling seems unfamiliar. We don't know whether it is attraction, curiosity, longing, nostalgia, or simply the beauty of a moment.
Then, somehow, we experience it again.
And again.
Until one day, it no longer feels unfamiliar.
It feels like something we have always known.
That is what this song feels like to me.
“Kol Ma Bashoufak” carries the feeling of seeing someone and having that little spark return — not necessarily louder, but deeper. The kind of feeling that doesn't need to announce itself. It simply appears in the smallest details: a glance, a pause, a breath, a change in rhythm.
And maybe that is why the hips feel so natural with this music.
There is something beautiful about letting a basic movement become emotional. A simple hip accent can suddenly feel like a heartbeat. A slow circle can feel like hesitation. A change of direction can feel like turning toward someone. A pause can say more than a whole sequence of movements.
Dance doesn't always need to be complicated to be expressive.
Sometimes, the most familiar movements become the most meaningful ones when we give them the right music, the right timing, and enough space to breathe.
So I keep returning to the basics.
I repeat them. I connect them. I play with them. I let them become part of combinations until I no longer have to think about every detail.
And somewhere along the way, something beautiful happens.
The movement that once felt unfamiliar becomes familiar.
The rhythm that once felt distant becomes something my body understands.
And perhaps a feeling that I couldn't quite name becomes something I can finally recognize.
Maybe that is what dancing is for me — not simply learning how to move, but discovering how a movement can make an unfamiliar feeling feel like home.
Turning the unfamiliar heart into a familiar rhythm.
Or simply:
Turning an unfamiliar feeling into something familiar.
Video Information on Social Media
Dancer: Cathy Hsieh
Song: Mariana - Kol Ma Bashoufak
#凱西CATHY
There is something incredibly cinematic about it. The melody carries a softness that feels almost nostalgic, even when I cannot fully explain what I am feeling. There is longing in it, but not the kind that feels heavy. It feels delicate, intimate, and a little mysterious — like seeing someone from across the room and suddenly becoming aware of your own heartbeat.
That feeling is what inspired this dance.
When I dance to this song, I find myself paying a lot of attention to the hips. Hip movements are such a fundamental part of belly dance, but I never think of them as “just basics.” The more I dance, the more I realize how much expression can exist inside a movement that looks simple.
A hip drop, a hip lift, a circle, a figure eight, a subtle shift of weight — each one can have a completely different feeling depending on the timing, the texture, the direction, and the music. The movement itself may be familiar, but the way it feels in the body can always change.
That is also why I love putting fundamental hip movements into combinations.
Repeating the same movement over and over can sometimes make the body feel disconnected from the music. But when those movements become part of a combo, something changes. A simple hip movement suddenly has somewhere to go. It connects with a transition, answers a rhythm, creates a pause, or becomes the accent of a musical phrase.
The body starts listening differently.
Instead of thinking about each individual movement, I can begin to feel the relationship between them. One movement leads naturally into another. The hips follow the rhythm, the upper body responds, and the entire combination starts to breathe with the music.
For me, this is where the beauty of repetition really begins.
At first, a movement may feel unfamiliar. I might have to think about where the weight is, how much energy to use, how to keep the movement clean, or how to make it feel effortless. But after repeating it enough times, something changes. The body remembers what the mind once had to think about.
And then, the movement becomes familiar.
Not boring. Not automatic.
Familiar in the best possible way — like returning to a place you have been before and suddenly noticing something you never saw the first time.
I think emotions can work in much the same way.
Sometimes we experience a feeling before we know what to call it. A certain person appears, a certain song starts playing, or a certain moment stays in our mind a little longer than it should. At first, the feeling seems unfamiliar. We don't know whether it is attraction, curiosity, longing, nostalgia, or simply the beauty of a moment.
Then, somehow, we experience it again.
And again.
Until one day, it no longer feels unfamiliar.
It feels like something we have always known.
That is what this song feels like to me.
“Kol Ma Bashoufak” carries the feeling of seeing someone and having that little spark return — not necessarily louder, but deeper. The kind of feeling that doesn't need to announce itself. It simply appears in the smallest details: a glance, a pause, a breath, a change in rhythm.
And maybe that is why the hips feel so natural with this music.
There is something beautiful about letting a basic movement become emotional. A simple hip accent can suddenly feel like a heartbeat. A slow circle can feel like hesitation. A change of direction can feel like turning toward someone. A pause can say more than a whole sequence of movements.
Dance doesn't always need to be complicated to be expressive.
Sometimes, the most familiar movements become the most meaningful ones when we give them the right music, the right timing, and enough space to breathe.
So I keep returning to the basics.
I repeat them. I connect them. I play with them. I let them become part of combinations until I no longer have to think about every detail.
And somewhere along the way, something beautiful happens.
The movement that once felt unfamiliar becomes familiar.
The rhythm that once felt distant becomes something my body understands.
And perhaps a feeling that I couldn't quite name becomes something I can finally recognize.
Maybe that is what dancing is for me — not simply learning how to move, but discovering how a movement can make an unfamiliar feeling feel like home.
Turning the unfamiliar heart into a familiar rhythm.
Or simply:
Turning an unfamiliar feeling into something familiar.
Video Information on Social Media
Dancer: Cathy Hsieh
Song: Mariana - Kol Ma Bashoufak
#凱西CATHY
凱西CATHY YouTube：https://www.youtube.com/c/CathyHsieh
凱西CATHY TikTok：https://www.tiktok.com/@cathyhsieh66
凱西CATHY Facebook：https://www.facebook.com/cathybellydance
凱西CATHY Instagram：https://www.instagram.com/cathyhsieh106
凱西CATHY TikTok：https://www.tiktok.com/@cathyhsieh66
凱西CATHY Facebook：https://www.facebook.com/cathybellydance
凱西CATHY Instagram：https://www.instagram.com/cathyhsieh106
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