The Running, Dancing God, Ekstasis, January 2023

Watching ballet usually makes me twitch like a marionette, not in a jerky way, but as if moved by invisible strings. Though I haven’t danced consistently for nearly two decades, the movements and positions that shaped my body from elementary school to high school graduation still inhabit me. They sleep in my muscles like shadows, waiting for music to wake them. When music does come—paired with images of dancers on stage or screen—subliminal movements commandeer my body. I sit straight, watching. My breath grows calm and quiet. My neck, back, and arms strain and elongate with those of the dancers, my head tilts with theirs, my toes count beats of music.