LIFEDANCE: I borrow the name
from my autobiography,
written some years ago as a necessity
when I was stalled in life…in dance.
I needed to tell my story to myself.
Apparently I still do need to tell my story;
my most recent means is by decorating pots.
I have found that telling one’s story is an attempt
to integrate the various parts of self.
For me the various gestures of life
can become fragmented.
One part rejected as less acceptable…
can be split off,
and so the struggle to re-unite ensues.
The first two figures I drew upon this pot
were harmonious, balanced…and acceptable.
The third appeared: proportion all wrong,
her gesture heavy and reluctant,
unacceptable until…
I smiled at her awkward sweetness…
her trust in my eventual surrender.
I recognized the conflict…
and my own inevitable struggle before the flow resumes.
I know my dance reflects my life,
and life is happening.
And life unfolds…
I begin to see once more the various parts
that work together for the good.
The life, the dance, the story will be told.
Each gesture will invariably contain the whole.