The Public Body
There are bodies in most places that we visit. Adult bodies are mostly doing the
same thing: walking, standing, sitting. Sometimes, we see an adult body running, or
doing yoga. Younger bodies might be climbing trees, or shaking not-yet-hips, or
scrabbling over grass. For adult bodies, dancing appears to be reserved largely for those behind silver screens, or in shiny studios. In public, at least, our adult bodies seem to worship a rigid conformity of angled, utilitarian shapes.
We might make the mistake of thinking, then, that the other kind of moving, the dancing kind, is intended only for the people in between YouTube squares, or maybe on a stage. For some of us, it has become forgotten, or only enters our reality when we are full on wine or in the privacy of our own homes. The word dancing comes from the Frankish dansōn, which means 'to draw, pull, stretch out'. But for so many of us, drawing out what lives on the inside, into outward, moving expression, feels awkward, alien even.
enters the realm of possibility for us perhaps only kind that spells words into sky or paints pictures through air, is reserved for people caught behind silver screens or in shiny studios, maybe ourselves in the privacy of our own bedrooms, or when we are full on wine. how much of the time are we restricting our not only our bodies but the emotions flowing through us when we follow the rules that say: Use Your Body in This Way in This Space Please?
the societal conditioning that creates this kind of pressure has sat heavy on my physical form for a lot of my life. don't draw attention to yourself. don't move your hips like that in this space. don't show how you really feel. don't feel!
that last one is probably the biggest one, for me. when we disconnect from our bodies and from our impulses to move, our emotions get stuck. when we allow life to move through us, we experience our capacity to feel and experience so many things. we experience our kaleidoscopic nature as humans.