For a moment, I saw my humanity lying on the floor on a stage during a ballet performance. He laid there with his eyes dutifully glued to the ceiling. I could see him because my ticket said A24. Only once he tried to roll his eyes back to see his colleague dancing. How difficult it must be to lay there with everyone dancing behind you, just out of reach. Right now, it’s not my turn dance but to quiet catch my breath, looking dutifully where I’m supposed to, because it’s a part of my performance.
I started to cry and directed all my concentration on him. I hope he could feel it: the human extension.
The second time I felt my worth, was during the duet. This time I felt myself on Earth, as a part of a whole. I felt all the tenderness of touch . Most importantly, it reminded me that I was full of love and emotion. It seemed that there (in that moment), I had no more hate to give. How could I let this (my will) expire? No, this (feeling) could not be wrong. No, this should not be snuffed. There was no man, no woman, no black, no what; there wasn’t a thing as power. It was me, the world, the world within and without me.
How beautiful a thing that as humans, we dance for each other. We play music for each other. We give each other these gifts. It made me feel very hopeful and glad to be alive.
If art is not your most valuable currency, then I am a pauper.
Watching 21st Century Choreographers at the New York City Ballet, May 1, 2018.
Pictures at an Exhibition
Year of the Rabbit