To move is to breathe.

 


Dance can be extremely personal. It can be difficult to articulate its meaning, its relevance, using just words. But to me, its relevance is inherent in its existence. When I'm moving, creating, collaborating, experimenting, my body knows my mind, and my heart.

Dance is not just an outlet, or an escape from reality. To call it either one of those things diminishes its meaning and downplays its necessity. In my life, dance does not exist to showcase my "creativity," nor provide a convenient opportunity for me to utilize my former gymnastics training. Dance, or rather Movement, is how I can understand my world. It's what I do when I'm walking from the couch to the kitchen, or randomly (often unknowingly) in public. It helps me work through difficult problems (whether personally or professionally), and has quite honestly, saved me from making some otherwise terrible mistakes more than once. It's what I do almost every time music is playing, but also what I can feel when everything is silent, and when I am still.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"There are likewise three kinds of dancers: first, those who consider dancing as a sort of gymnastic drill, made up of impersonal and graceful arabesques; second, those who, by concentrating their minds, lead the body into the rhythm of a desired emotion, expressing a remembered feeling or experience.

And finally, there are those who convert the body into a luminous fluidity, surrendering it to the inspiration of the soul."

- Isadora Duncan