Rachael Ashe
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Alone, in her new apartment, in a dress red and hot as a jalapeño, she dances. She hears a new sort of music echoing around her new walls and she creates a new dance…a spiral dance, supple and sweet as red licorice. Each step is a new step, each movement utterly new, never before danced in that apartment, in that neighborhood, in that city, in this world.
The world over, women in red dresses are dancing. In new apartments and old, they dance. In brownstones and split-level ranch houses, they dance. In Prague and Seoul, they dance. In shadow and light, they dance. To guitar and drum, to oud and bodhrán, to pipe and djembe, they dance. In silence, they dance, they dance.
Outside her new apartment the old world, the old city, the old neighborhood continue on as if nothing has changed. But it has. It most surely has. With each new step, with each new flounce of red fabric, she alters the fundamental structures of existence. Each red-dressed dancing woman in every neighborhood in every city in the world does the same.
The world is not what it was when she began the dance. That’s why she dances.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
