Sunday, June 24, 2012


I see him in my mind
He moves, he stirs tonight 
But when I come to him, 
Our limbs entwined 
That arm wraps around me 
It holds me and controls me—
Can we take flight?

The beauty of ballet is in wondering, how effortlessly the dancers seems to soar in the air. This verse of the poem Dust, included in my book Twisted, and my bronze sculpture inspired by it, are about the illusion presented to us by bounds and leaps, by the ingenious choreography and the virtuosity of the dancers. But in a larger sense, this verse is about the way we relate to one another. Can she take flight without the support he offers--or else, is it his hold that holds her back?

The sculpture takes this ambiguity to an ultimate extreme, because as you may notice, the body of the male dancer is entirely porous, and worse--it is disconnected: The torso is completely separate from the hips, it hovers in space in utter discontinuity! You, the viewer, are invited to 'connect the dots'... It is, in fact, her body that holds him--not the other way around. If not for her, his upper body would be in pieces on the floor...

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  1. "Without you I am nothing!" He moans and yells at her back. Her hand is on the doorknob.

    She laughs, scornfully, thinking about this dramatic show of too-little-too-late emotions.

    "Don't go. I will fall apart without you." He speaks to the air, for she is gone, the door clicking closed mournfully.

    Days later, when she comes back...not for him...but for the rest of her belongings, she lets herself in with the key. She is relaxed, calm-he is at the office, working.

    So it is with a scream, and utter shock when she finds him there, on the floor, in spiraled pieces, their shimmering beauty belying the ugly truth...the truth he had tried, finally, to express to her. She wishes she had listened.

    1. What can I say to this beautiful story, but Wow!

      Thank you so, so much, dear Britton!

  2. Wow! What a lovely sculpture and what lovely symbolism.