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“My body is all that exists. It is the only thing I can depend on. Music or no music, there is a rhythm that cancels out all the other noise, all the nonsense that keeps screaming for attention, all the pain of the world outside. I point and leap and spin, and sweat whips off me, showering the duct-taped boards under my bare, calloused feet. I see myself in the fractured shards of mirror I glue-gunned to the wall. This is how I know myself--in this tattered leotard; in these ripped tights; in this broken, salvaged room. This is the only place I’m real. This is the place I come when I need to remember who I am. This is where I come when I need to forget everything else.” — Amy Reed
My body is all that exists. It is the only thing I can depend on. Music or no music, there is a rhythm that cancels out all the other noise, all the nonsense that keeps screaming for attention, all the pain of the world outside.
I point and leap and spin, and sweat whips off me, showering the duct-taped boards under my bare, calloused feet. I see myself in the fractured shards of mirror I glue-gunned to the wall. This is how I know myself--in this tattered leotard; in these ripped tights; in this broken, salvaged room. This is the only place I’m real.
This is the place I come when I need to remember who I am. This is where I come when I need to forget everything else.