1.06 - 1.19

i talk about 'dance' a lot. it can be exercise or it can be meditative, it can be all raucous or it can be timid, it can be frustrating or it can be awkward. for others it's like writing, or like telling someone you love them wholly, cutting yourself down the middle and staring at this beast inside of you and addressing it in a non-verbal way. it is not linear, and it doesn't always happen. it doesn't HAVE to have a name (jerk, krump, relevé, street, lyrical, pop, lock...) i believe that. and i believe in it because it's like photography in that we all have our own fingerprints attached to the THING (photo/movement). its fascinating because a roomful of people doing the 'same' movements do not move the 'same.' it is detail oriented, but very much whole. in the end its beauty lies in the manner in which it emerges from you... i love watching people dance, like i like finding the THING in a photograph, like i like seeing how people run if i've never seen them do so, like i like watching people eat if i've never seen them hold a fork...when i picked it up again in 2005 it was about addressing my own reflection, from top to bottom, in the grand mirror. we all have mirror faces and we all have our own relationships with the mirror; some more than others (i know not everyone weighs things so heavily). it was about acknowledging myself, where others might have disregarded it, but none so rudely as my very own self. this moving mirror produces the kind of high that can only be triggered by things that, or people who, make you feel beautiful. like, you never paid the mirror much mind, and now you regard yourself in it...that kind of love can produce such a thing that...

this kid is very young, and teaches in LA and ATL. i'm concerned with phrases like 1.06-1.19. . . beyond understanding a song. it's not overt or over the top, it's not for show, it's not tricky...it's like understanding what you want to say. it offers an eloquence to kids who aren't when they speak or write or converse...eloquence is overrated, anyway. my own dance, however insufficient the word, is one that is and needs to be.