In This Dance
(A response to Pause, Listen)
This is what you said to me.
Let me explain it like this: if you look carefully you will see a cloud floating in this dance.
Yes a cloud. Without a cloud there wouldn’t be rain, without the rain, trees wouldn’t grow and without trees we would have no wood for floors. If the cloud is not there, the wooden floor cannot be there either…. This dance is nourished by trees.
And if you look into this dance again, you can see that next to the cloud there is sunlight. Without sunlight trees couldn’t grow, crops couldn’t grow. In fact nothing could grow.
Neither we, nor the dancer could grow without sunlight.
What else lies in this dance? I asked.
Time lies in this dance. There is the time of the church clock striking, people speaking and the cars as they pass in the street below. There is the way time feels inside the dancer and the way her mind reveals it for us to see.
The time that it takes for her body to remember these movements and the time that we have to see them. Time also lies in our thoughts as we watch. The last time we saw a head nod like this, and our anticipation of when such a nod might happen again.
There is time within time as the fragment of music arrives, extending itself into the present, reminding us of what we have already left behind.
The city lies in this dance. It is in the building that surrounds this dance; the ceiling that receives the shadow of the dancer before we can see the dancer herself. The floor that lies beneath the dancer, remaining constant. The windows that begin as open and will end as closed and that cast their shadow on the patient floor until the blind is drawn and erases the shadow…. The woman pacing in front of the window in the house opposite, her cigarette smoke, the road, the street lamps, the moon – these bits of city are also in this dance.
And air lies in this dance. It comes in from the night outside. It brings the city closer. It is the current beneath the dancer’s arms, and our breath as we watch her.
We are in this dance. The head movements of the young man next to us as he follows the path of the dancer’s body; the shift of weight of the woman opposite as she gently exhales, deep in thought. All of the thousands of thoughts in each of our heads as we watch, those lie in this dance. The questions, the answers, our experiences of beauty and pain, joy and sadness, all these are in the dance, too.
This dance allows the outside to come inside, to offer its rhythm and flow, its sounds and feelings. This dance allows the inside to go outside, to offer its rhythm and flow, its sounds and feelings.
– Lucy Cash, 20 September 2014