on top of this world
yes. we started on a rooftop. today. perfect.
I work with Davy who dances from a such a pure place. Not sure what else to call it. I can watch her for a long time because she listens with great attention. She is Cambodian. She is 26. She lives in a small place with a large family. she always wears matching outfits. today was a purple suit.
I again think on the motivation for movement and wonder how much we are affected/effected by the environments we move through pre dance and post dance.
I write this:
It is dirty on the floor and she wears small stocking socks on her feet. they have lace on their edges. outside the sunrise ( as she calls it) and a man who plays a radio. street below us. sending up only parts of its sounds. there is small announcing on a megaphone and I think of all the war movies i have ever seen and remember a train in India in mid of night, woken to a similar megaphone, thinking I am somewhere in Eastern Europe. no i am in india. no i am in cambodia. time accumulates and spreads thinly across my remembering. she listens to the song of the world from the heart (kunyum sop baii chet....in bad phonetics) means: I am happy - from the heart. I learn this last night. I lean into this thinking. she tells me to stop, she tells herself. small walks forward. hmm. her small stockinged feet are dirty now. white large tiles. square. 'yes' she says.
the wind it passes through this quiet rooftop dance. i recall a friend talking late at night in roadside bar in spain of the necessity of monks meditating in caves. to save the world she said. quiet to balance the lack of. and sometimes i think we dancers, we are part of some quietness in the gaps between and it is necessary, all this sensing. to balance out the lack of it.
and so, i think, we are the only ones who know we are doing this. below us, life at rapid and not so rapid pace.
