As in one’s hand a lighted match blinds you before
it comes aflame and sends out brilliant flickering
tongues to every side — so, within the ring of the
spectators, her dance begins in hasty, heated rhythms
and spreads itself darting flames around.
There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost.
― Martha: The Life and Work of Martha Graham
Hey (hey) What’s the matter with your head? yeah…
Hey (hey) What’s the matter with your mind and all your sighing?
Hey (hey) Nothin’s a matter with your head, baby, find it
Come on and find it
Hell, with it, baby, ’cause you’re fine and you’re mine
And you look so divine
― Redbone, Come and Get Your Love (watch the video)
She was not tall, but her slender and elastic figure made her appear so. Her skin was brown, but one guessed that by day it would have the warm golden tint of the Andalusian and Roman women. Her small foot too, so perfectly at ease in its narrow, graceful shoe, was quite Andalusian. She was dancing, pirouetting, whirling on an old Persian carpet spread carelessly on the ground, and each time her radiant face passed before you, you caught the flash of her great dark eyes.
The crowd stood round her open-mouthed, every eye fixed upon her, and in truth, as she danced thus to the drumming of a tambourine held high above her head by her round and delicate arms, slender, fragile, airy as a wasp, with her gold-laced bodice closely moulded to her form, her bare shoulders, her gaily striped skirt swelling out round her, affording glimpses of her exquisitely shaped limbs, the dusky masses of her hair, her gleaming eyes, she seemed a creature of some other world.
“In very truth,” thought Grainier, “it is a salamander—a nymph—’tis a goddess—a bacchante of Mount Mænalus!”
At this moment a tress of the “salamander’s” hair became uncoiled, and a piece of brass attached to it fell to the ground.
“Why, no,” said he, “ ’tis a gipsy!” and all illusion vanished.
― Victor Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris (The Hunchback of Notre-Dame)
Let me entertain you.
Let me make you smile.
Let me do a few tricks.
Some old and then some new tricks.
I’m very versatile.
And if you’re real good,
I’ll make you feel good.
I want your spirits to climb.
So let me entertain you.
And we’ll have a real good time;
Yes, sir! We’ll have a real good time.
– Gypsy (1962)
My 100th photo posted on this blog! w00t!