DanceDance, to me is the moment I let go-It's harder than I think, every time.Letting go, especially when I have to interchange let go and start moving.(Momentum usually isn't that kind) -unless you're falling.Dance becomes the moment of a second, the instant in midair when you've jumped, you slow, and know, beyond all beliefs where you are and going. The instant of a being.Focus.Dance is liminal, falling and catching and stepping and stopping, layering moves and mixing colours, becoming part of music that surrounds me and at the same time being inescapably detached from my background.Of course, like with any performance the moment y
i've been listening to the...I've been listening to the wind.but I never thought I'd hear the daisies and the clouds harmonize. (like yellow and orange.)Thought maybe the spiders spun tenuous strings between the twoand turned their hearts into kites,little bubbles of tactile secret-moment,the kind that aren't itchy or overwhelmingandDreams, slowly ascending into your fringe,combed like the windblown trees,Everymotion spun together into a whirl of emotion, being presencesits so heavy comfort upon your chest, a part of your skin(One) that never (two) came off.But soon-soon hushes motherbristlesComb your hair and arrange your stars;y
Sta.sh
