So you put twist tightly wrapped kevlar around a pair of chains, weave the band around your fingers and practice figure eights. A lot of them. Keep practicing. Practice till you’re bored. Post bored.  Totally sick of it.  Just keep practicing.  Muscle memory kicks in.  Just keep practicing.  Eventually, you are ready to light. And the sound, ah, the sound. Fire whizzing past your ear, the power of your own inertia.  The light, the light, the light!  The glow inside lasts for days.  In fact, once you’ve done this, you’re never the same again.  My friend Charity taught me everything I know about Firedancing. She lives in Tuscon now but had a transfer in LA, we only had about an hour by the time we reached the Santa Monica Pier. One moment we’re trying to figure out whether or not we had enough Fiji water in the bottle to wet the safety towel and the next moment, we’re collapsed on the sand laughing. OMG, the world’s largest water supply is right in front of us!! I run to into this receding tide. My legs keep running, running, running. The Pacific’s night tide’s edge is just so far back. My toes sinking into in the cold wet seaweed and sand. I drench the towel in salt water. Jumping up, utter delight, I run back. We’re dipping the kevlar into the lamp oil now. Circling, figure eights all around. And oh, the sound! As I spin poi, Charity stands by w/ wet towel, in case of mishap.  As she spins poi, I do the same.  Two guys in uniform approaching. Were we too close to the Santa Monica Pier’s Ferris Wheel?  How could we possible be a threat to anyone?  Here were are, dancing with fire in the middle of this ginormous kittly litter box!! “What’s going on?” We tell them the truth; that we didn’t know whether or not it was illegal to spin poi on the beach and that Charity actually has a liscence to do this (which she does, insurance as well!) The two uniformed guys are laughing. “We’re EMTs” they explain to us, pointing to their white rectangular ambulance parked way, way, back.”  We show them the wet towel to legitimate that we treat our craft with respect.  Standby, one another, ready, in a heartbeat, to smother flames, if necessary.  “No worries” they assure us.  “Just stopped by to watch the show.” Was just one of those nights where even the smallest minute detail just clicks into place.  The world around morphs into timelessness macro mode of it’s own accord and everything, everything, everything, just seems to make sense.