Blue

August 2020

I want to dive in all the seas of the world.

Open my eyes inside

and see these million blues 

dancing in front of me

with me.

This eternal blue.

For all the moments i am inside it

I am part of nature itself

and I am calm

like I am floating in a mother's womb.

The womb of the mother of all mothers.

And for these few moments

I feel eternal.

Black Lives Matter

June 2020

Black is a colour.

Skin is just skin.

It is not a sign of danger.

Your mind is danger.

It thinks you are superior.

Your eyes are danger.

They are blinded with hatred.

Your body is danger.

It suffocates people.

You are danger.

You are angry and stupid,

and you are spreading death.

Quarantine  Thoughts

In a world that is threatened and scared, what is the point of creating dance.

 

What

Is

The

Point

?

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. 

May 2020

About Dance

December 2017

Dance is stories.

Stories of the past. A secret past. A nostalgic past.

Stories of the future. A future of potentials and surprises.

Stories of the now, of the moment, of the reality and the illusion, of that which lies in between the past and the future; your sorrows, your desires, your regrets, your state of mind. Life is a state of mind. The tongue fails to narrate and movement takes over. Some stories can only be told through the body. They pierce the body with the desire to be touched, to lose gravity, to transform, to vibrate, to explode and BOOM! Your body shatters in million pieces. You levitate. You fall down. You gather the pieces. You play with them as if they are pieces of a puzzle. You explode again. And again. And again. You let your body die for some seconds and then bring it back to life. Your body opens to the space, you float, you fly, you hit the ground. You let the story unravel in you and through you. You let the story kill you and revive you. You let the story take over you.

Until you become the story.