Not who we dance with, but what we dance around.
Not closeness, but distance made aware of itself. The heartbeat in the next room, eyes meeting in the crowd.
Turn it inside out and every emptiness is an ache. Angles of expectation add up to desire.
We must return to the old savageries. You bring the broken dances, my love. I'll bring the fire.
Just returned from watching a performance by the Zenon Dance Company, the highlight of which was the premiere of luciana achugar's glorious Structures of Feeling, but which also included a mesmerizing performance of a 1992 piece by Susana Tambutti called Like An Octopus - a sort of deconstruction of the tango that is also the inspiration for this post.