I live with you
It’s not what you think it is.
They’ll call it Dance. Not dance, as in the act of dancing. No, Dance. With inflection italics so pronounced you can actually hear the capital D. As if it’s raised above mortal performance, as if dancing in and of itself isn’t beautiful, isn’t liberating, isn’t intensely holy.
It’s not Dance, though it could pass for it. It’s not even dancing, though it looks very much like it. It’s not what you think it is. It is not what you—whoever you are, sitting there, sitting still in your chair, looking at a photograph—think it is.
It’s the beginning of flight.
Photo "4879834164" not found (invalid ID)Photo "4879834164" not found (invalid ID)Photo "4879834164" not found (invalid ID)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
