Choreographic moments

Every moment is a possibility to dance.                                                                                           I choose that every moment is a dance of possibility.                                                                      As I had a day in isolation to gather strength for days to come, I found myself moving about in my pyjamas before going to bed, elaborating as I was dancing, on how it feels not to have the strenght in my legs and body to move about. (A contradition ). And the tears came, and the body caved in, and I went into bed. But in that moment of dancing; I choreographed a dance, and its an authentic moment, that sits with me, lets me know me, my truth.

Photo: Ole Henrik Kongsvik @okfotokurs

The ambivalence of moving, and not being able to move, makes for an interesting range of emotions, and as I lull myself to sleep I find my happy place again. I can choreograph. I can map out my choreographies in my blog, in my shorter moments of dancing, in my life spent with the people I occasionally manage to mingle with.

Photo: Anja Wroldsen @anja_wroldsen

As I was discussing art process work with people, I discover new truths. I was pondering the idea of why, when I seemingly am so unafraid, I am worried to show people what I write. I came to the conclusion its because my body doesnt lie, and I easily confuse myself with words. I need my body to find my truth in words. I need to choreograph. I need to think of my words as choreography.

Photo: Mette Karina Søreide @karomette