Est modus in rebus

This is a continuation from [Kat Tales - A Special Black Box ] …

 

 

I quietly sit down to watch my friend.

I take pictures.

She’s in her own world. There is no music.

Her long limbs stretch out, sometimes in a slow and gentle

cadence, sometimes leaping in frenetic bursts.

 

 

She’s a joy to behold, and I find myself honoured

to be allowed to watch. I don’t think I would have done

so well if someone were behind me, watching me write.

 

I find out later those weren’t even prepared steps or

moves, she was just trying out ideas in her head.

I find myself admiring dancers even more.

The dance ignoramus that I am, I ask her sometime later:

“You mean, I could just make up a sentence, a concept or a story,

and you could think up a whole dance to it? Anything?”

“Well, yes.”

“Like….if I were to describe…errrrr…a building, you could

dance to that, create a sequence?”

“I suppose… Yes.”

Cue me going Wow in my head, imagining all sorts

of moves I could never execute without looking

like I was stepping on coals… or like I was.. Urkel.

 

 

Somehow after all that,

I got the distinct feeling that dancers may be the

most ‘free’ of those in the arts.

But perhaps that’s just me.

I tend to get rather emotional with art, paintings etc,

and I read too much into poetry and lyrics in songs sometimes.

But with dance, I just am constantly in awe

of how people use their bodies.

It’s right there, in your face, artist as the work of art.

I’m always hopeful when I see people dance.

Yes, from abstract, to Swan Lake, from line dancing (LOL)

to street hip-hop, and from bekside boys choreography

to salsa, I’m always hopeful

when there’s a dance

to be had.

 

 

 

[To be continued ... in Kat Tales ..]