This summer, while working on my solo, I was thrilled at the discovery of dancing as if in the arms of your beloved. So pleasurable, so easy, I thought I had discovered the wheel or something: a response to the usual framework it seemed to me that dance operated from - dancing in longing for the beloved. I thought I had discovered a new value system to change the world with.
Well, this morning, I looked for the first time at the video of my solo showing at the end of July. Well, holy crap, fuck that shit. What a namby pamby body. Dancing as if in the arms of your beloved makes for crap art.
Same thing when Benoît and I were looking at videos of the Body-Scan process the other night. Parts that we remembered as particularly pleasurable to be in were horrendous to watch.
So, if pleasure is delusional, does that mean pain is the alternative? No. Because pain is equally delusional.
Curiosity is my proposition.