when one thinks of dance they think of a choreographed piece, with fluidity and grace, and moves where if you saw them you would think you could never achieve them. through some of my observations not only as an artist and seeing things as the colors they truly are but also the way they move, have found that dancing is everywhere. it’s in the blades of grass in the large open fields as the wind weaves its way between them in the ripples of a still pond as a pebble is dropped within, in the tallest trees as the breeze tickles the top branches and they sway back and forth, shadows as they dash between buildings, leaping as gazelles, as if to a song that so many of us are far too busy to stop and hear. dancing is all around us, in the tiniest things you can see the common sway, or the twisting, or the waving. they all dance to their own beat, their own song, it must be such a beautiful song for all of them to dance in such a way, usually with the wind leading. when i see all of these beautiful dances i think that we have nothing on them, that our dances all choreographed and practiced can never be as beautiful as the ones from the silent song. that dance is the one that makes me want to join in, mimic the grass as it waves, the water as it ripples, the trees as they sway, the shadows as they leap, and maybe just maybe i may hear that silent song.





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