The body says what words cannot.
You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out.
The spine is the tree of life. Respect it.
Dance is the landscape of man's soul.
First we have to believe, and then we believe.
Every dance is a kind of fever chart, a graph of the heart. The instrument through which the dance speaks is also the instrument through which life is lived ... the human body.