When I think of dance my pulse creates a rhythm of its own beat. Light surrounds me and creates a mystical aura. I feel my own body surrounded by a rainbow of colors. I feel like a Matisse painting, a Picasso sculpture or a Dali dream.

When I think of dance each pore of my skin, each cell in my body deep into my bones are open to be part of my mind's imagination.

When I think of dance I have to stop this because there are no words that can express what I am feeling in those moments. It may give you an idea, a glimpse but it never gets too close.

So I keep thinking ..........

Thinking of the origin. My dance is the origin of me and I am the origin of my dance. None of us exists without the other.