by Grace Kelly
Looking up from the ground, it looks like a decoration. Its size leads you to think of large tapestries used to cover the grandest window. It flows like a sail, hinting on the infinite paths one can take with it. Its purpose can be experienced through a single touch. You can feel how this fabric is different. You can sense its purpose of a stage, used to frame the acrobatic movement. It draws in your gaze, like water swirling down a drain. Its movement is mesmerizing.
It’s capable of an unimaginable amount of forms, shifting from soft and flowy to rigid and taut. Stretchy then stiff within a sudden movement, steadily shifting through its many forms. It creates a physical representation of abstract ideas, blending together in an indescribable way, only able to be understood through sight and touch.
As I climb higher my body melts away. Subconscious thoughts are all that guides me, moving in and out of the fabric. Flowing through movements, exploring without the construct and limits of what is right or possible.
I can sense the gaze of many, filled with excitement and confusion, but I do not pay attention. If my thoughts stray I cease to float. My arms become rough stones, each movement uneven and uncertain. My torso stiffens like cement as all motion once posible disappears, leaving me trapped in place as the eyes of the many become ravenous vultures, picking off what is left of me. I must ignore the uncomfortable and break off the hardened stone. I adventure higher into the air, twisting and flowing like a stream unaffected by gravity, intertwining myself in the fabric.
Wrapping myself up in intricate movements feels instinctive. No matter how much I am challenged, these movements fulfill something deep inside my body. Something that was once empty and covered in dust, forgotten and denied, but is now filled with something better.