Thoughts of a quarantined dancer
In a world that is threatened and scared, what is the point of creating dance.
The assurance that the body is still alive?
That it is still sensing and it is fierce and soft and curious. That it responds to music and plays with music and creates music. That its flesh can still transform to retell the stories and change the stories and create new ones. And maybe that it doesn't drown. Not even in a sea of viruses and bad decisions. It floats instead.
Back to the shore and back to its rhythm.
Maybe that's the point.