The Work Of The Feet

Press.

There are days of quiet dance. Days when you tuck, solitary, into the studio to work and rework the floor like a worry stone. Days when the rain wraps around the windows and the light fades and it is you, the music, and the work of the feet. On these days I feel my feet spread, thick and swollen against the wood the previous days dances appearing like ghosts in my soles. I shift my weight, forward and back, and settle, dropping my weight between my legs. I bend my knees and move, pressing through the floor, my feet the only thing left to drive my body into movement against exhaustion and soreness. My mind interrupts me and I falter, losing the sequence. The music stops, but the rhythm of the rain beats on. My feet begin again.

Photograph
Sandhya Ramen, University of Oregon Spring Student Dance Concert 2009, Erinn Ernst choreography