Bande à part (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964) Madison dance
For pleasure. For the pleasure of being aware: of your feet, of your breasts. For the pleasure of being unaware, lost in the moment, you and your body and the bodies next to you, in space, arcing and swinging in time. Lost, and profoundly found.
How many moments like these are we granted? How many moments like these do we claim?
"I would not believe in a god who does not dance."
FN
And the pleasure of just shutting up for a change.
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