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You
evade me and so I chase you in circles. Iarch back and you are at my feet.I
bend forward and you inhabit the space I've left. I fold, I twist, I gather,
I make space, I think, fill space, weave, stagger, I scratch...gasp. Mix,
remix, galvanize, stretch, condense, sweat, fall, I birth, erase, destroy,
arrive. I arrive. Wait, waiting, I leave, return, sweat, I think, rethink,
intuit, move, become, embody...gasp. Breathe...breathe... Doris Humphrey
spoke of the arc between two deaths, the drift between any two points
fixed. The place of falling where meaning becomes, where it unravels and
shifts, and becomes itself again. The dancing body is becoming, unraveling,
shifting, and becoming itself again and again and again... The power of
the expression of the body is immense. It can stretch dimensions. It can
blur the edges of perception. What is deemed to be real and thought to
be fiction can and do become confused for both performer and spectator.
Socially, politically, and artistically I am interested in the space between,
that which connects; not the finite ends of things, but the connections
themselves. I prefer the transitions. Erase all else. Isabel Lewis |
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