Dance — a mesmerizing harmony of elegant movements. A thin line between love and hate, a cross-section between sex and fight, the border between life and death...
Just as every fight does not lead to death, and as every sexual union does not create a new life, not every dance gets rewarded with applause.
What looks like the ambivalently harmless and childishly naive play of two partners in each moment can, in a few steps, turn into a fight or passionate love. The charge between two opposite bodies that makes them move and keeps them both close and apart at the same time is what captures our attention. The anticipation of what is going to happen next is confusing thinkering minds of audiences — brains struggling to predict the next move. Enchanted by ever-emerging surprise, the watcher’s mind is transcended to childish joy. The music of bodies entwined in rhythm leads to a pinnacle moment of ecstasy. After, only silent stillness remains.
Some dance because of joy, and others just to stay alive. Throughout history, artists danced to amuse their rulers, each with his or her own art, passing around secretly-concealed messages, melting the hardened wax of people minds. In that dangerous dance, how carefully they threaded their steps decided whether they were going to see another day — whether they stay alive.
In the Art of War, foes dance with the waves of their armies, each trying to get an advantage by creating allies and fighting enemies. Sometimes, the cards switch, twisting the dance in an unknown direction. Every martial art began as a display of a few basic steps. With time, it built on complexity, searching the balance between defence and attack. In one moment, a beautiful and hypnotising art. In the next, turning into a harbinger of demise.
We all dance. Some of us dance alone, some with a partner, and others prefer to do it in a group. While we dance, everything around us dances: nature, life, objects and elements, planets and stars, mighty galaxies... They all dance. Sometimes, a dance has a beginning and end, and, sometimes, it seems it does not have either, leaving us to think in infinite awe.
Every motion is a dance. Even when we choose not to, our stand still reluctant, our refusal to move, is a form of dance. That pause, creating suspense, is a crucial part of the harmony. Dance is the tale of time — so much so that we can say that dance is a synonym for the fourth dimension. To dance is to experience time. Space dimensions owe their glory to time. Without it, no one would be there to feel or tell the tale.
We all dance on that thin line of time ...
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