The Dance

It does not touch the intellect. It is at its most potent and passionate when not placed under analysis. To pick it apart would be like using foot positions and hand movements to describe a dance. That is what it is, a collection of steps, but the beauty is not in moving a leg from here to there, but in the performance. To analyze would not reveal anything greater, but would rob it of what makes it incredible. The only word I could use to describe it is feeling. There is a structure but it melts away; there is meaning, but meaning through feeling not thinking.

It is like the music and I am the dancer. When I hear it I start to move, unconsciously. There is a connection, that I never decided to make. When I notice what’s happening, I’m in the middle of a dance. The music leads to unconscious movement, which leads to dancing, that stirs the dust on the floor, in your clothes, so that when you stop to take a breath, you are surrounded by particles you never saw before or had forgotten about. 


Featured Image Credit: Frederick Glasier, Loïe Fuller, 1902

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