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A Dancer's Skin

Who are we when we dance? When do we embody the little quavers, the running trills, the long sweep of a bow, the staccatoed steps of a quick beat and weight change, the spiralling ochos and giros leaning upon a centered foot and a delicate balance of weight?

We start a story everytime we enter a dance situation, a strung together version of a longer epic Homer-type story that continues through the ages, forges through and chases each other like white sea-foam horses gallop and dissipate across a vast ocean. Nothing but a drop.

This dance is music personified, it is a cloak we wear, which is why music is fundamental, THE core to everything. The puppet-master.


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